The Tail of Emily Windsnap - Liz Kessler [40]
“It’s too late, Mary P. I can’t pretend anymore. And I won’t. Why should I?”
“What are you talking about?” Mom looked from Mr. Beeston to me. I didn’t say anything. Let him explain it.
Mr. Beeston sat down on the bench opposite me. “It was for your own good,” he said. “All of you.” His hands were still clutching his head, his hair all mangled and tangled up with blood and sweat and seawater.
“What was for my own good?” Mom’s face hardened and grew thinner as she spoke.
“The two worlds — they don’t belong together. It doesn’t work.” He leaned forward, his head almost between his knees. “And I should know,” he added, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re not the only one to grow up without a father.” He spoke to the floor. “Mine disappeared the minute I was born, he did. Just like all the others. Fishermen. All very nice having an unusual girlfriend, isn’t it? Taming a beautiful siren. Show off to your friends about that, can’t you?”
A tear fell from his face onto the deck. He brushed his cheek roughly. “But it’s a bit different when your own son sprouts a tail! Don’t want to know then, do you?”
“What are you saying?” Mom’s voice was as tight as her face, her hand still gripping the mast. The sea lifted us up and down; the sail still flapped uselessly over the water.
“You can’t put humans and merfolk together and expect it to work. It doesn’t. All you get is pain.” Finally, Mr. Beeston raised his head to look at us. “I was trying to save you from that. From what I’ve been through myself.”
The boat shook violently as another wave hit us. I clutched the tiller more tightly. “I told you he wasn’t really your friend,” I hissed to Mom, the wind biting my face.
“Friendship?” he spat. “Loyalty is all that matters. To Neptune and the protection of the species. That is my life.” He held up a fist across his chest. Then he glanced at Mom. His fist fell open. “That’s to say,” he faltered, “I mean — look, I never wanted to . . .” His voice trailed away, his chin dropping to his chest.
Mom looked like she’d been hit over the head herself. Her face was as white as the sail and her body had gone rigid. “I often wondered why they got a new lighthouse keeper so suddenly,” she said. “No one ever did quite explain what happened to old Bernard. You just appeared one day. And something else I’ve never really thought about — you never invited me in. Not once in twelve years. Not like Bernard. We used to go up there all the time when I was younger, up on the top deck, looking all around with binoculars and telescopes. But you — my friend — you always kept the door closed to me. And to think I actually felt sorry for you.”
The boat was starting to careen up and down, the sea getting wilder as we held the tiller together. She put her hand on my arm. “He saw you once,” she said quietly to me in the darkness. “At Rainbow Rocks. Held you against his chest at the water’s edge. I wouldn’t let him take you in the water. Maybe if he had . . .” Her words slipped away as she looked at me, her hair plastered across her face with seawater. “I’ve lost twelve years.”
I bit my lip, tasting salty water.
“Hidden from my own mind like everything else.” She stood up and inched over toward Mr. Beeston. “You stole my life from me,” she said, anger creeping into her voice. “You’re nothing but a thief! A nasty, rotten, scheming THIEF!”
“Hey now, hold on a minute!” Mr. Beeston stood up. “I’ve been good to you. I’ve looked after you. You should hear what some of them wanted to —”
“You had no right.” Mom shook his arm, tears rolling down her cheeks. “He is my husband. Who do you think you are?”
“Who do I think I am? I know exactly who I am! I’m Charles —” He stopped. Glanced briefly at Mom and took a breath. Then he suddenly thrust out his chin, his eyes clear and focused for a brief moment. “I am Charles Finright Beeston, adviser to Neptune, and I have conducted my duties with pride and loyalty for twelve years.”
“How dare you!” Mom snapped. “All these years, pretending to be my friend.”
“Now, wait a minute. I wasn’t — I mean, I am your friend. You think