Sink or Swim (6 page)

O
nce again, I toss and turn and turn and toss. I can’t sleep.

Lana is going to come by in the morning, and I have no idea how to get her a happy ending. My only option is to convince her that her current life is super awesome
without
the prince.

And it
so
is. She’s a princess! She has great hair! If she lived where we do, she could be in a shampoo commercial. She has five sisters — I wish I had
one
sister, never mind five. Legs just aren’t
that
great. I look down at mine. Sure, they can run and dance and stuff. But I’ve seen her swim, and she moves a lot faster than I do.

There’s a loud noise outside the window. It sounds like, “Oooooh!” but it’s more of a moaning.

I bet it’s quieter underwater. Land has all kinds of creepy sounds.

“Ooooh,” I hear again.

Wait. That sounds like a person.

I run out to the balcony and look down at the beach.

“Ooooooooh!” I hear a third time. I look around in the moonlight and eventually see that the sound
is
coming from a person. From Lana. She’s lying on the sand.

As I try to figure out what’s going on, she starts to flop from side to side. Her tail starts to quiver. And then as I watch, her tail splits right down the middle into two.

OH. MY. GOODNESS.

I have seen a lot of crazy things in fairy tale worlds. But I have never seen anything like this.

I step over the divider and pound on Jonah’s balcony door. “Wake up!” I yell. “We have to help her!”

When I turn back to Lana, the green in her legs is slowly fading to the same light color of her skin. Her hair is the same. Her upper body is the same. But now she has legs. LEGS!

And green bikini bottoms.

“What’s up?” Jonah asks, opening his balcony door.

“That’s what’s up!” I say, pointing to Lana. “She made the deal with the sea witch! Why would she do that when I told her not to?” I stomp my right foot. I am mad. So very mad.

“Oooohhhh!” Lana moans.

“We need to help her,” I say. “Get a towel.”

We hurry down to the beach and find her still twisting in pain on the sand.

“Does it hurt?” Jonah asks her.

“Obviously, it hurts!” I exclaim. “She wouldn’t be making those sad sounds if it didn’t hurt!”

Lana just nods.

I put my hands on my hips. “Did you go to the sea witch?”

She nods again.

“Why would you do that?” I wonder. “I told you
not
to!”

She opens her mouth to say something but then immediately closes it.

I gasp in horror. Since she has legs and went to the sea witch … the sea witch has her … has her … has her tongue. “Did you give her your …?” I can’t even say the word. It’s too gross.

Lana nods. But then she points to her legs.

My stomach churns. She really did it. Gave away her tongue for legs. Why would she do that? Why would anyone do that?

I take a deep breath. I take the towel from a very wide-eyed Jonah and wrap it around her wet shoulders. “Can you stand?” I ask.

She shrugs, which I take to mean
I don’t know
. Communicating with someone with no tongue is
not
going to be easy. She holds my hands, and I gently lift her up.

She’s shaky on her feet, but it seems to work. At the same time, she grimaces, so I guess it hurts. After a few seconds, she is able to walk on her own.

We take her back to the palace.

I want to yell at her. To tell her that she made a huge mistake.

But by the pained look on her face, I think she already knows it.

“Come sleep in my suite,” I tell her. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

She looks like she wants to say something, but then just nods. Without a word, she follows me to my room.

L
ana is up before I am. She’s sitting on the floor of my room, examining her toes.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

She gives me a big smile and a thumbs-up.

She motions to her body. I have no idea what she’s trying to say.

She motions again.

“You’re cold?”

She shakes her head.

“Hot?”

She tugs on the yellow nightie I lent her last night. Maybe she’s saying thank you.

“You’re welcome,” I tell her.

She shakes her head again and then makes a waving motion with her hands.

“You want to go swimming?”

Her cheeks turn red and she stomps her foot. She pulls at the nightie again and grunts.

“Oh, you want to get dressed!”

She gives me a big nod. Then she makes a show of patting down her hair.

“You want to wash your hair and then get dressed and then see Prince Mortimer?”

She claps. I guess I got it.

The door bursts open. “Who are you?” Vivian looks at Lana and demands.

Lana’s eyes widen in fear. She opens her mouth to answer but then seems to remember she can’t say anything.

“She’s a mermaid!” I say. “Remember I told you I was looking for a half fish, half human?”

Vivian clucks her tongue. “She doesn’t look like she’s half fish. She has legs.”

Good point. “Well, she used to be half fish,” I say.

“I don’t approve of lying, Miss Abby,” Vivian says. “Does your friend with legs have any clothes, or did she lose her luggage, too?”

I shake my head. “No luggage.”

“I’ll call the tailor,” Vivian barks.

Twenty minutes later, Lana has been measured and has showered and is wearing a brand-new sleeveless yellow sundress. She still smells a little salty, but I guess that’s what happens when you live most of your life in the ocean.

“Now get outside, both of you, so I can clean,” Vivian orders.

Through the balcony window, we spot Prince Mortimer already out on the beach, standing by the royal boathouse. Jonah is up, too — he and Russell are building sandcastles.

Prince Mortimer looks up, and Lana waves at him.

Prince Mortimer waves back and gives Lana a slightly quizzical look.

Lana curtsies. Then she pulls my hand and hurries me outside.

Prince Mortimer watches us as we approach.

“Hi,” I say. “Do you remember Lana? She gave up her tail to be with you, so I hope you’re happy.” I don’t mean to sound as grumpy as I do, but I guess I can’t help it. I feel grumpy.

“You have legs!” the prince exclaims.

She blushes and nods.

“She gave up her voice for those legs,” I say.

Lana gives me a sour look.

What? She did! Lana should be thanking me. In the original story, the Little Mermaid had no translator, and the prince never knew that she was the one who saved him and he ended up marrying someone else. The only reason he knows what’s going on here is because of me.

And maybe Jonah. My brother who is currently making snow angels in the sand.

Mostly me.

“Who cares about your voice?” the prince exclaims. “You look gorgeous.”

I have no choice but to roll my eyes.

He takes Lana’s hand and twirls her around. Then he drops to one knee. “I will honor my earlier proposal. Will you marry me?”

She nods happily.

Lana and the prince embrace. Everyone on the beach — the king, queen, Jonah, Russell, and the guy manning the royal boathouse — claps and cheers.

And me? Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel. On the one hand, I’m happy that Lana got what she wanted. She wanted to marry the prince, and now she will. She’s getting her happy ending.

But on the other hand, she:

1. Lost her tail!
   
2. Lost her voice!
   
3. Lost her underwater kingdom! Will she ever even see her family again?
   
4. Is marrying a guy who only likes her for her legs!
   

Even though she seems happy, I can’t help feeling sad.

The prince takes Lana’s hand. “We’ll get married immediately. Three days from now. We’ll do it in the ballroom, of course.”

Of course? I had so expected him to stay on the beach.

Lana follows him into the palace. For someone who just got legs, she looks very glamorous as she walks.

“See?” Jonah says, running up to me, covered in sand. “It all worked out.”

“Not all of it,” I say. I can’t shake the sad feeling.

“So now what?”

“I guess we go home.”

“Already?” He looks longingly at the water. “Don’t you think we should stay a few more days? Just until the wedding? That way we can make sure Lana gets married and has her happy ending. What time is it at home?”

I glance at my watch. “Three
A.M
.”

“Great!” he cheers. “Then we have four hours until Mom and Dad wake us up. Which is four days. I’m going kayaking.”

I grab his arm before he runs away. “We need to look for the portal!”

“We will, we will,” he says. “How about we split up?

“All right,” I say. “That sounds reasonable.”

He scrunches his nose. “You go check the furniture,” he says.

“We already checked the mirrors. I guess I can check the tables and chairs. What are you checking?” I’m glad he’s finally willing to do some work.

As he runs toward the beach, he calls over his shoulder, “I’m going to check all the kayaks!”

I walked right into that one.

T
he next day, we’re in the dining room having tea and discussing wedding details.

Chef Carolyn can’t stop staring at Lana. “She’s really a mermaid?” she asks, eyes wide.

“She was, but she gave it up,” I explain.

“I wish she could talk! I have so many questions!”

The prince clears his throat. “Back to the menu,” he says. “Chef Carolyn, I’d like you to prepare sole, tilapia, and yellowfin tuna. Fish, in honor of my little mermaid!”

Lana’s eyes widen to the size of her teacup.

“What’s wrong, my pet?” Prince Mortimer asks, patting her knee. “You don’t like tuna?”

She shakes her head frantically.

“What about sole?”

More head shaking.

“Then what would you like to serve?” he asks.

She shakes her head no, and then makes a weird squiggly motion with her hands.

“She doesn’t want fish. She must want lobster. Perfect!” He kisses her on the forehead, gets up, and leaves the room.

Lana’s eyes fill with tears.

“Did you not want lobster?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Jonah says. “You did want lobster or you didn’t?”

She shakes her head again.

“Which one?”

Lana drops her head down on the table and sighs.

What can I say? It’s tough to talk without a voice.

Since they got engaged, the prince and Lana don’t seem to understand each other at all. Lana does a lot of nodding and
shaking her head, but it’s tough to answer questions like: What do you want to serve for dinner? You can’t answer that with a nod or a head shake.

Vivian hurries into the living room clutching a paper card. “Look,” she calls out. “The calligrapher just finished the wedding invitations. Don’t they look nice?” She places one in Lana’s hands. “I’ll send one to your family.”

Lana shakes her head. I notice that her eyes fill with tears but that she blinks them away.

“You’re not inviting your dad?” I ask, shocked.

She shakes her head again.

Communicating would be so much easier if mermaids knew how to read and write.

“What about your sisters?” I ask. “Aren’t they going to be your bridesmaids?”

She points to me.

“Me?” I ask. “You want me to be your bridesmaid?”

She nods.

Wow! I’ve never been a bridesmaid before. But I’ve always, always, ALWAYS wanted to! The dress! The bouquet! I don’t know what else bridesmaids do, but I’m sure it’s fun.

“I accept!” I cheer. “I’m going to be an amazing bridesmaid. The best bridesmaid ever. But wait — if I’m the only bridesmaid, does that make me the maid of honor?”

Lana nods.

This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. Besides falling into fairy tales through my magical mirror, obviously.

I am going to be
the
Little Mermaid’s maid of honor! Who else can say that? No one! Only me! “But are you sure you don’t want to ask your sisters?”

She shakes her head and looks down at the invitation.

“Read it out loud!” Jonah says.

I shoot him a look across the table.

He blushes. “Oh, right. I keep forgetting you can’t talk.”

“She can’t read, either,” I say. A lightbulb goes off in my head. “I have an idea! An idea that’s going to fix everything. Okay, not everything, but definitely your communication problems.”

Lana looks up at me eagerly.

I wait for Jonah to make a drum roll or something, but when none comes I turn to Lana and announce, “I’m going to teach you to write! If you can write, then you’ll be able to communicate
with Prince Mortimer. And with everyone. Then you won’t be so frustrated. When anyone asks you a question you can just write the answer down!”

“Great idea, Abby,” Jonah says. “I think I’ll go play tennis while you do that. Russell is having his tutoring lessons now, but maybe I can get him to sneak away.”

I sigh.

Lana points to the invitation.

I don’t understand what she wants. “You want me to read it to you?”

She shakes her head no. She nods. She shakes her head no again. She points to herself and then her eyes and then the invitation.

“I think she wants you to teach her to
read
, too,” Jonah says.

“Of course! Reading and writing go hand in hand.” I square my shoulders. “Just call me Professor Abby.” All I need now is a pair of eyeglasses and a blazer. Oh, and pencils. And paper. “Jonah, before you disappear for the day, please find me some paper and pencils.”

Jonah hurries off. When he comes back with paper and different-colored pencils, I spread them all out on the table.

Pencils, check! Paper, check!

Now what? I’ve never actually taught anyone to read before. Where do I start?

“Okay, bye!” Jonah calls.

“Wait! Jonah. You just learned to read, right?”

“Right,” he says. “This year.”

“Can you, um, tell me how to start?”

He fidgets with the door. “How about with A?”

I nod. “So we’ll go through all the letters, and I’ll teach Lana the sounds. Thanks. You can go now.”

Jonah bolts out the door.

I write a capital A. No need to confuse her with small letters yet. “A makes an ‘ahhhh’ sound. Ahhh!” I overemphasize. “Also, sometimes ‘ay.’ A is for … ‘Abby’! That’s me. A is also for ‘at’ and ‘animal.’ Why don’t I write it down and then you copy it?”

I write a big A, and then she copies it ten times.

I smile. “A is for ‘awesome.’ Now let’s do B. Do you know what B is for?”

She shakes her head.

“B is for ‘brother,’” I say. “And ‘ballroom.’ And best of all, ‘bridesmaid.’”