Sink or Swim (3 page)

W
e jump back into the water and each grab one of the guy’s arms. He’s wearing a yellow shirt and dark-brown pants that are soaked and torn. He’s handsome. Really handsome. Floppy brown hair, chiseled cheekbones. Full lips that are tinged blue.

Uh-oh, that’s not a good sign.

“Don’t drop him!” I order.

Jonah’s eyes are wide with worry. “Is he okay?”

A wave crashes into my back and I ignore the question. “Let’s just get him to the shore!”

We pull and we heave, and a few minutes later we lay him
down on the sand. I cup my ear against his mouth. He’s breathing! “He’s okay! Just unconscious, maybe?”

Jonah exhales in relief. “Who do you think he is?”

As I collapse on the hot sand beside him, the original story floats back to me. Prince … shipwreck … the Little Mermaid saved the prince … “Oh! That
was
the Little Mermaid! And this is the prince she saved from the shipwreck!”

“But why was the prince in the water?”

“Don’t you remember?” I ask. Nana read him the same stories she read to me. Although I paid attention 110 percent of the time and he paid attention about 10 percent of the time.

He shrugs. “Just start at the beginning.”

“Fine,” I say. I lie down on the sand and close my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “There was a mermaid. And she was, um, little.”

“What was her name?” Jonah asks.

Hmm. Good question. “I don’t think she has a name in the actual story.”

“Who wrote the story? Was it the Grimm brothers again?”

“No, it was a Danish guy. Hans Christian Andersen.”

“He liked Danish? The cheese kind?”

I open my eyes just long enough to roll them at my brother and then close them again. “No, he was from Denmark. The country.”

“But the Little Mermaid lived in the ocean, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Why are you being mean?” he whines.

“Because you’re asking dumb questions!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking. Just go on with the story.”

“The Little Mermaid really wanted to swim to the surface but she wasn’t allowed until her fifteenth birthday. She had a bunch of older sisters and they’d already done it. When the Little Mermaid was finally allowed to peek out above the water, she saw a prince fall off a boat. Instead of letting him drown, she brought him to shore and saved him.”

“That’s what we just saw!” he exclaims.

“Exactly.”

Beside us, the prince coughs up some seawater. Both of us spring up, but the prince’s eyes stay closed.

“So what happens next?” Jonah asks.

“Well, after she saved him, she fell in love with him.”

“And then they got married?”

“No,” I say. “It’s kind of a long story, actually, but what happened is that she hid. She didn’t want the prince to see her since she was a mermaid. So when he woke up, he didn’t know she had saved him. She went back underwater and asked around and discovered that the only way to get a human on land to fall in love with her was to have two legs. And the only way for her to get two legs was to make a deal with the sea witch. So she went to the sea witch and —”

The prince lets out a loud snore.

“And,” I continue, “the sea witch offered to give her legs, but the witch wanted payment. So the Little Mermaid gave her —” I stop. This part is gross.

“Her allowance?”

I squirm. “No.”

“Her sneakers?”

“What sneakers? She had a tail.”

“Oh. Right. Then what?”

“Her tongue.”

“Are you kidding me?” he gasps. “The Little Mermaid gave away her tongue?”

I nod, trying not to picture it.

Jonah’s eyes light up. “That’s disgusting! Awesome!”

My brother tends to like the gross parts of these stories. He has a stronger stomach than I do. He loves roller coasters. Especially the ones that go upside-down. Not me, thank you very much. I prefer staying upright.

“Well,” I say, “technically, it was the Little Mermaid’s voice that the sea witch wanted. The Little Mermaid had an amazing singing voice. But she gave that up for legs. Forever.”

Jonah shakes his head. “I can’t imagine never speaking again.”

“Me neither,” I say. I doubt you can be a judge if you can’t speak. How would you sentence people? “Also, the sea witch added an extra curse to the spell — if the prince married anyone else, the morning after the wedding, the Little Mermaid would … would …”

“Would what?” Jonah asks. “Have to give the sea witch her fingers? Her nose?”

“
Snoooort!
” groans the prince, but his eyes stay closed.

“Worse than that,” I say gravely. “If the prince married anyone else, the morning after the wedding, the Little Mermaid would die.”

Jonah pales. “But we don’t have to worry, right? Because there must have been a happy ending. The prince fell in love with
the Little Mermaid, they got married, and they lived happily after?”

“Well …” I hesitate.

Just then we see a splash in the distance. It’s the mermaid again. The
Little
Mermaid. Her blond hair, her green bikini top, and her green-and-orange tail peek out of the water and then disappear.

“I see her,” Jonah whispers. “Should we hide? Maybe if we run away she’ll forget she saw us and the story can continue the way it’s supposed to?”

“Yeah,” I say, remembering what I’d said back in the basement. That we should stay out of the way so that whatever fairy tale we landed in wouldn’t get messed up.

Except maybe I want to mess this one up.

I look at the Little Mermaid and then back at the prince. “Here’s the thing. The ending of the real story of the Little Mermaid isn’t good. It isn’t like the happy ending in
Cinderella
or
Snow White
. In the end of the Little Mermaid’s real story, the Little Mermaid
doesn’t
get the prince. She doesn’t get her happy ending at all. In the end of the real story the prince marries someone else, another princess, and the Little Mermaid …” I take a deep breath. “The Little Mermaid dies.”

“You’re wrong,” Jonah tells me. “I saw the movie. The Little Mermaid doesn’t die!”

“The movie isn’t the real story,” I say. “Haven’t you ever heard of a Hollywood ending? When the movie writers give the story a happy ending even though that’s not what happens?”

“But she can’t die,” Jonah cries, and bangs his fist against the sand. “That’s the worst ending I ever heard!”

I nod. “It definitely is a bummer.”

Okay. I think I
do
want to mess up the ending. “I have a new plan. I think we should change the rest of the story.”

He twists his lower lip. “I thought that was against the rules.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “Maryrose has never even spoken to us! Whose rules?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Your rules.”

Oh. Right. “Yes, well, technically changing the ending is against my rules. But maybe that rule is a mistake. I don’t want the Little Mermaid to die. I want to give her a new ending — a happy ending.”

T
here’s another groan beside me. This time the prince’s eyes flutter.

“I think he’s waking up,” my brother says.

The prince’s eyes open all the way. He looks at Jonah and then at me. “Where am I?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“You’re on a beach,” Jonah says.

“How did I get here? I was on a ship.” The prince sits up slowly and rubs his forehead. “I don’t remember what happened. Wait. I do remember. There was a storm. I fell overboard. How did I survive?” He notices our soaking wet clothes. “Did you two save me?”

I crouch beside him. “It wasn’t us. It was the Little Mermaid!”

His eyes crinkle. “The what?”

“The Little Mermaid!” I point to the water. “She was right there a few minutes ago.”

He twists to look but the water is smooth. “What’s a mermaid?”

“You know,” Jonah says. “Half fish, half person?”

The prince shakes his floppy hair, and I wonder if he lost his crown in the ocean.

“There’s no such thing as a half person, half fish,” he says. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It isn’t,” I say. At home, I’d have to agree with him. If one of my new friends told me that she’d seen a mermaid at the beach I would have to ask her if she’d hit her head recently. But we aren’t in Smithville. “Where I live, you’d be right,” I say.

“You don’t know that,” Jonah tells me. “We might have mermaids at home.”

“We do not,” I say.

Jonah shrugs. “You don’t know for sure. He thinks there are no mermaids here, and he’s wrong.”

Fair point, I guess. I motion around me. “Where are we, anyway?” I ask. From the beach, I spot a path that leads toward
a big stone building in the distance. Just as I’m trying to figure out what it is, a bell rings from it. A school?

The prince stretches his arms up above his head. “The kingdom of Mustard.”

Jonah and I both laugh. “Seriously?” I ask.

The prince squints into the sun. “Why would I joke about the name of my kingdom?”

“Your kingdom is named after something you put on a sandwich?” Jonah asks.

“Maybe they don’t have mustard here,” I tell Jonah. “Like how in Floom they didn’t have brownies.”

The prince shakes his head. “We eat mustard. It’s our favorite condiment. We eat brownies, too. We even dip them in mustard.”

“That’s disgusting,” I say.

Even Jonah agrees. “Yuck,” he says. “I wish we were in the kingdom of Ketchup.”

My brother is obsessed with ketchup. He puts it on everything. Fries. Mac and cheese. Plain bread.

Seriously, plain bread. Now, that’s disgusting.

“Brownies in ketchup,” Jonah says. “That I’d try.”

Now, that’s
really
disgusting.

The prince wobbles to his feet. “Who are you?” He eyes our outfits. “You didn’t escape from a prison, did you?”

I look down at our matching pj’s. Our matching black-and-white-striped pj’s. We do look like inmates.

“No,” I say quickly. “We’re just in our pajamas.”

“So if you two didn’t save me, how did I survive? Maybe a fisherman brought me in? Or I washed up on a piece of driftwood? Or are you two just being modest?”

“No,” I say. “I can barely swim. It was the Little Mermaid — we just dragged you in.”

“Aha! So you DID save me! Then I, Prince Mortimer, am in your debt. Would you please accompany me back to the palace so you can be celebrated?”

“But Prince Morty … can I call you Prince Morty?” Jonah asks hopefully.

“Only my parents call me Morty.”

Jonah pouts, then continues, “But Prince Mortimer, it really wasn’t us who saved you.”

Hold on.
I elbow Jonah in the side.

“Ouch!”

“I just need a minute to talk to my brother,” I say, and yank him a few feet away. “We may as well go to his palace,” I whisper.
“We might not be able to find the Little Mermaid tonight, and we’re going to need somewhere to sleep.”

Jonah shrugs. “I’m game if you are. But we’re definitely going to mess this story up.”

I look out at the water. “Let’s hope so.”

W
e’re walking up the path toward the building when we run smack into three teenage girls. They all start shrieking the second they see us.

At first I think they’re making fun of our matching prison pajamas, but then I realize they’re shrieking at the sight of the prince.

“Oh! My! Goodness!” swoons one.

“It’s him! It’s him! It’s him!” cries another, looking like she might faint.

Jonah and I aren’t the only ones dressed in matching outfits — the girls are all wearing white collared shirts, yellow
skirts, white kneesocks, and yellow patent-leather shoes. A uniform? I guess the building is a school after all.

“Prince Mortimer!” the third girl cries out. “Everyone is looking for you! I’m, like, so happy that you’re okay!” The girl has a mouth full of bubble gum and super-curly brown hair. Each curl looks like a Slinky.

I wish my curls did that. I also wouldn’t mind a piece of gum. Especially since my toothbrush drowned with the rest of my suitcase.

“I’m fine,” the prince says. “But I need to get back to the palace.”

“Let me get help!” the girl with curly hair says, and then runs back up the path. The rest of the girls just continue to stare.

A few minutes later, she’s back with a bunch of important looking grown-ups, and soon we’re on our way to Prince Mortimer’s palace.

The hour-long carriage ride swerves us around the beautiful coast. All along the beach are small villas with big outdoor decks and docks and boats. The waves crash against the white sand. The water sparkles like emeralds. The sky is bright blue. Leafy green trees sway in the distance. It kind of looks like the pictures my parents took of their tenth anniversary trip to St. Thomas,
which is an island in the Caribbean. Even though Nana came to stay with me and Jonah, we were NOT pleased about being left behind. Jonah was bummed to miss out on the Waterinn Resort’s many activities — snorkeling! swimming! kayaking! — while I was bummed that we missed out on the hot tub. Also, I love tall frosty drinks that come with tiny umbrellas, and I’m pretty sure that’s what all the drinks are like in the Caribbean.

When we arrive at the palace, there is a crowd of people waiting for us out front. At the center are the queen and king. They’re both wearing gold crowns, but they’re not dressed like a typical queen and king. Instead of robes, the king is wearing yellow shorts and a yellow-and-white flowered shirt. The queen is wearing a yellow tank dress with a gold belt, gold flip-flops, and big gold sunglasses.

These people really like yellow. Oh — it’s probably their official color, since it’s the kingdom of Mustard!

Both the king and queen have sun-bleached hair and leathery-looking skin from too many hours spent on the beach. Which is the kind of skin I don’t want to have when I’m older. Which is why I always wear sunscreen.

Except for now. Because I didn’t realize I’d be going to a beach.

After grabbing the prince in a bear hug, the king turns to us. “Dudes! We are so grateful that you saved our son,” he says.

Dudes? I’m not a dude. “It wasn’t just us,” I say. “A mermaid brought him to shore.”

The king laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say. We’re just grateful that he’s okay. After he disappeared off the ship we assumed the worst.”

“You’ll be our guest for a few days, won’t you, darlings?” the queen asks, not letting go of her son’s hand.

“Sure!” Jonah exclaims, gesturing toward the tennis courts to the left of the palace and the volleyball court to the right. “It’s awesome here.”

He’s not wrong.

The palace is amazing. All windows and marble. Yellowish marble. These people take the name of their kingdom seriously.

“Darlings, would you like something to drink?” the queen asks. “Maybe a banana smoothie?”

We nod. That definitely sounds tall and frosty. A minute later a tall, icy yellow drink — with a teeny, tiny yellow umbrella — is plunked into my hand. Hurray!

I slurp it down in twenty seconds. Yum.

Jonah nudges me. “Not bad, eh, darling?”

I laugh. “Pretty good, dude, pretty good.”

A maid named Vivian leads us inside the palace. She’s about my mom’s age, and her brown hair is tied back in a tight bun. She’s wearing a perfectly pressed yellow uniform.

Inside the palace, there are yellow flowers everywhere. The rooms are decked out with gold chandeliers and ginormous paintings. Paintings of the ocean, of the king and queen, of the prince, and of other people in crowns.

Vivian leads us upstairs. She opens the door to my room. And by
room
, I mean
suite
. Huge, gorgeous suite.

It’s the size of the entire top floor of my house in Smithville. In the middle is a king-sized yellow canopy bed. The room even has a balcony that overlooks the water. From the window I can also see a pool. And a mini-golf course. And a baseball diamond. And a hot tub.

Yes. A hot tub.

Forget the Waterinn — this might be the best hotel ever. Except it’s not a hotel. It’s Prince Mortimer’s house. Our house for the next few days.

Jonah’s room is right next door. There’s a door between our rooms that connects us if we want to be connected.

“You can unpack here,” Vivian says, motioning to a chest of drawers.

“Thanks,” I say. “But we lost our luggage. I don’t have anything to unpack.”

Speaking of stuff in my suitcase, now that I think about it, I bet the reason Maryrose let us in the mirror right away was
because
I had packed a bathing suit. It’s a must-have piece of clothing for this fairy tale. She must not be very happy that I let my suitcase vanish in the ocean.

“Nothing to unpack?” Vivian echoes. “I’ll ring for the royal tailor at once! You absolutely need something for the prince’s welcome-home party tonight!”

I can’t help but think about that fairy tale,
The Emperor’s New Clothes
. Wasn’t there a fake tailor who pretended to sew all these new outfits for the emperor, but the emperor was really walking around naked? Hopefully this tailor will make me
actual
clothes.

A few minutes later, the royal tailor knocks on my door to take my measurements. Then he takes Jonah’s and hurries away to get to work.

“In the meantime, get in the hot tub and relax,” Vivian orders. “I’ll bring you an extra swimsuit.”

Okay. If she insists.

I slip on the suit — it’s yellow with gold, red, and green polka dots — and make my way outside in a plush yellow robe and matching slippers.

The hot tub overlooks the ocean. I dip my big toe in first.
Ahhh
. Hot and delicious.

As I sink under the steaming water, I think,
I could get used to this
.

After Jonah — in new yellow swim trunks — joins me for a bit, we both return to our rooms to get ready.

My closet is now filled with outfits. Real ones — nothing invisible here. There’s a beautiful long, flowy yellow dress with a beaded top and a silky skirt. There’s also a simpler cotton yellow sundress. Two yellow nighties. A few pairs of yellow undies. I’m going to look very sunny. Good thing they also gave me a new pair of red sunglasses.

I put on the fancy dress and step out onto my balcony, calling to Jonah to meet me outside.

Jonah steps onto his balcony, which is connected to mine with a short divider between them. He’s wearing new yellow
pants, a striped yellow-and-white collared shirt, and a massive smile. “I love it here,” he says. “This is the best vacation ever!”

“It’s not a vacation,” I remind him. But honestly — it does kind of feel like a vacation. The view from here is incredible — blue, blue water that goes on forever. Even though it’s warm and sunny, the ocean breeze is gentle and amazing. But still. “We have a job to do. We
really
have to find the Little Mermaid before it’s too late.” I look out into the water, hoping for a glimpse of her. Is she swimming up the coast looking for the prince right now? Where is she?

Jonah pumps his fist in the air. “We have to stop her from dying!”

“So, here’s the plan,” I say, rubbing my hands together. “We’re going to nip this problem in the bud. We’re going to stop the Little Mermaid from making the deal with the sea witch in the first place. If she stays a mermaid, then she won’t die, even if the prince marries someone else.”

Jonah cocks his head to the side. “That’s not what I think we should do. I think we should let her make the deal with the sea witch and then help her get the prince to fall in love with her so she can live happily ever after.”

What? He can’t be serious. “Jonah,” I say, “that is the worst plan ever.”

He motions around him. “But it’s so nice here! I bet the Little Mermaid would really like it.”

I wag my finger in his face. “That is a bad plan for many reasons. First of all, it’s very risky. If the Little Mermaid visits the sea witch, then she
has
to get the prince to marry her, or bye-bye mermaid.”

“Everything has risks,” Jonah says. “We keep going through the mirror even though we never know where we’re going to end up or if we can get home. Living on land with the prince is the Little Mermaid’s dream. We can’t tell her not to dream. Everyone has to dream big, right?”

“Of course we have to dream,” I say, annoyed. “But if you know your dream is impossible, then you give it up. You find a new dream and you make it work. You get used to it.”

He frowns. “That’s so sad.”

My brother’s just not getting it. “Jonah, we didn’t want to move to Smithville, did we?”

He shakes his head. “
You
didn’t want to move to Smithville.”

“Fine,
I
didn’t want to move to Smithville. But we did, and now we’re okay. We have friends. We have a magic mirror. It’s not so bad. You have to learn to make the best of what you have. You get what you get and you don’t get —”

He smirks. “Wet!”

“Upset,” I say. “Hmm. Maybe that’s the whole point of the original
Little Mermaid
story. That she should have been happy with being a mermaid. The Little Mermaid gave up her whole life — her family, her home, her tail, and even her voice — for a guy who didn’t appreciate her.”

Jonah nods. “That’s true. She even gave up her tongue.”

“Exactly. If she’d learned to be happy with what she had, she would have been much better off.” I squeeze the railing. “We have to stop the Little Mermaid from making the biggest mistake of her life.”

He nods. “You’re right.”

Of course I’m right. I’m always right. Well, not always, but usually. “Now the only issue is — how do we find her?”

“Maybe she’ll be at the party?” he asks.

“I doubt she’ll be hopping around on her tail,” I say. “But maybe someone at the party will know how to find her. Before she makes the deal with the sea witch.”

If she hasn’t made the deal already.