I put a hand to the back of one ear. The skin was rough and scabby. I felt behind the other ear. Same thing.
“That’s them. Those are the gills,” Mom said.
“Can you see them?” I said nervously. “Do they show a lot? Do they look right?”
“We can’t see them from here,” she said, “but they’ll work just fine. Go ahead and try it out.”
“I guess I have to do this sometime, don’t I,” I sighed.
“Yes, and now is a good time,” Dad said. “If you mess up we can pull you out.” Mom elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ben, she can’t mess up. It’s impossible.
“Miriam,” Mom called down to me. “Don’t worry. You can’t make a mistake with this. Just relax and breathe comfortably…you don’t even have to relax. Go ahead. Be tense. The gills work all by themselves.”
“Well… goodbye,” I said as I ducked reluctantly under the water.
I started out by opening my eyes just a little. Then, I opened them a lot. It was like wearing goggles on your eyeballs. Everything was crystal clear and the salt water didn’t sting.
So I tried a little sniff through my nose. Just the barest smallest sniff I could manage. Water went in. Nothing bad happened. I sniffed in a teensy bit more. It was still okay. I sniffed in a lot.
It was great. I was breathing under water. The water went in my nose and out my gills. It never went near my lungs.
I opened my mouth and let a little water in. It went out the gills just like the nose water. I tried swallowing some. I gagged.
It tasted terrible. But I was all right. I was still breathing…breathing water.
I powered up my tail and dolphined out of the water and took a deep breath. It still worked. I was officially a double breather.
“I love it,” I shouted. “This is great.” I did a couple more leaps, accidentally on purpose too close to the pier. Mom and Dad were soaked. Then I dove deep and came back up further away.
“I love you,” I called out to them, swimming backwards and waving with both hands. “I’ll call you tonight. Bye.”
“Don’t mess around with any rogue Sky and stay away from humans,” Mom shouted into the wind. “Stay far away from boats and don’t even think about teasing any scuba divers.”
CHAPTER 3
BOATS
Mom and Dad stood with their arms around each other, their heads leaning in and just touching. Mom held out her free hand like she does when we watch weepy movies. It means: `Ben. Give me a tissue. Hurry up!’
I missed them already.
“Don’t worry,” I shouted, counting on the wind to carry my voice back to them. “I won’t go near any boats. You can trust me,” I hollered, trying to remember where and when she told me about something called a rogue Sky. I waved one more time and dove under the water where the swimming would be easier.
It would have been easier too, but my wings made for an extra complication. They wouldn’t stay tucked in. Instead, they kept floating off without permission. Eventually, I gave in and let them hang loose.
Once the wing-thing was settled, I still had trouble keeping a steady pace. I always wanted straight hair. Now I had it. Not only straight, but floaty. Perfect mermaid hair. Small problem. Every time I looked behind me, my gorgeous mermaid hair got in my mouth, my eyes and my nose.
My fault. I kept twisting around to watch my wings billow out behind me as I swam. This slowed me down, but they were sooo beautiful underwater. They were like the fins on the back of some exquisite goldfish and with all the colors of a shiny wet pebble.
By now, I was far enough from land, so that the water was pretty sparsely populated, not much more than the occasional school of little silver fish, always looking like they knew exactly where they were going. If I moved too quickly, they scattered in a hundred different directions like flashing silver stars.
But if I didn’t make any jerky movements, they acted like I wasn’t there, sliding across my skin without a break in their swim rhythm, as if I was nothing more than a big lump of coral. It was kind of nice. Not slippery. Maybe a little ticklish, but mostly like dozens of short soft strokes all over my body. I almost purred.
I don’t really know a lot about the ocean. I guess I should have studied for this trip, but I didn’t. I asked one of the silver fish what they were called.
“We are the salt people,” it said. I was pretty sure that that wasn’t what they were called when they were turned into fishsticks.
I don’t know much about different kinds of sharks either, but I was also pretty sure that the gray shape headed straight towards me was a pretty classic example of the species. Dull gray, skin. Streamlined shape and of course the requisite menacing dorsal fin. Okay, Miriam, I tell myself. Stay cool. Remember. You’re not on the food chain.
I’m not on the food chain. I’m not on the food chain, I kept repeating to myself, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.
“Hello, Sky.” The shark spoke in a flat monotone. It was about half my size, plenty big enough. “Anything good to eat back in that direction?”
“N...no, not really,” somebody outside my head answered while inside my head my real self kept singing tunelessly...not on the food chain...not on the food chain.”
The shark grunted and turned around, coming a hair’s breadth to brushing against me with its sandpaper skin then it headed out to sea. People around here have no sense of personal space. “Not on the food chain...not on the food chain,” I kept humming. I thought of the wonderful cloud of silver fish and changed my tune. “Safe for another day...safe for another day.”
Nevertheless, I was still making pretty good time. Occasionally surfacing to keep the coastline in sight as a guide, I was headed south to the warm waters where my mother’s adoptive Sky-parents lived. At first, I felt jet propelled. This fishtail thing was so much faster than walking, even running.
But after a couple of hours of nothing but swimming and admiring myself, I started to think the unthinkable. I started to think about how long this trip was going to take and how much I wanted to meet my adoptive Grandparents now, not days from now. I started to think about a boat.
Now I realize that the middle of the ocean is not a particularly good place for hitchhikers. There was, for example, the small problem of explaining to the occupants of any boat I might find, how I came to be happily drifting with the currents.
So here I was, swimming along thoughtfully, thinking about cruise ships, the kind of boat where a kid could go undiscovered for a day or two. I was so lost in the fantasy of the beautiful mysterious girl on the Love Boat, that I never noticed the very small boat just over my head.
Small boat. Large fishing net. I didn’t notice that either. The net whomped closed, catching me and an assortment of small fish that had the bad luck to be nearby, and began to rise slowly to the surface.
I had no idea what kind of people were at the other end of the net, but I did know that I was not dressed for the party. I could feel the pressure building on the panic button that I keep right next to the butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
Then I remembered the sampo. It would give me anything I needed, including something to cut the net with. Even while I worried about what would happen to the bag if water got into it, I was trying to open it.
But I had tied the sampo extra snugly around my waist for fear of losing it in the water, and now the combination of trembling fingers and wet knots kept my bag closed tight.
Meanwhile, I could see, the surface of the water and the bottom of the boat above me, getting closer. I frantically worked to open the bag. There was no way I was going to get the sampo open in time. I was trapped.
Panic rose like vomit, from my stomach into my throat, choking me. I put my hands over my face and closed my eyes. If I can’t see it, maybe it will go away.
On their way to my face, my fingers brushed against the silver necklace, reminding me that I still had options. I twisted the charm and got my legs back just as the n
et reached the surface. But I still didn’t have the nerve to open my eyes and face whatever was waiting above the water.
Although I couldn’t bear to look, I could hear voices. I seemed to be the topic-du-jour.
“...not a dolphin, not a shark.”
“Giant manta ray!”
“Too skinny.”
“Tuna. Really big tuna fish. Yum.”
“Don’t be stupid. Tuna only come in cans.”
Cans? I cracked my eyes the thinnest slit I was able and could just see three scruffy looking heads peering down over the side of the boat.
“Hey, there’s a kid in the net. She must have fallen off a boat,” the middle head said.
“Fish don’t live on boats.”
“Moron. It’s not a fish. It’s a kid.”
“It’s a fish. I saw a fish.”
“Jerk. Fish don’t have legs.”
“Yea, well, kids don’t breathe under water. It’s a fish. We can eat it.”
Meanwhile, the net with me in it was still slowly rising and almost level with the boat. I could feel something hook into the netting, pulling it and me over to the Three Stooges.
“Look at that,” one of them said. “It’s half dead.” I got a bruisingly hard poke in the ribs, but I was too weak from fright to react. The only thing I did, was squeeze my eyes even tighter.
“Maybe, it’s all dead.”
“If it’s dead, can we eat it?”
“Shut up.”
“It’s a kid, all right. It must have fallen off a boat.”
“What boat? I saw a fish.”
“Forget the fish. You saw a dolphin. Dolphins rescue people all the time. Look at it. It’s practically drowned. The dolphin was probably trying to get it to the surface.”
“But I saw a fish.”
“Yea, well, you’re stupid.”
“Yea, you don’t know anything.”
CHAPTER 4
CAPTURED
Hands were everywhere. The net containing me and my new fishy friends swung over the boat rail and down. I landed so hard on the deck that my eyes popped open. The three heads had been joined by a fourth and I was now looking up at four of the most bizarre-looking people I had ever seen.
You could hardly see their skin for all the hair and dirt. Their clothes were so raggy and faded that it was actually difficult to tell exactly where clothes ended and skin began.
They honestly looked more like big shaggy dogs than people. They were that weird. Each of them seemed to be marked, doggie style, in different shades of gray with fur cut long and short in patches; like the brownish-gray bandanna around one neck that might have once been red, or the gray jacket on another that from the look of it was originally blue denim.
The boat didn’t look a whole lot better than its owners. The splintery wood of the deck was worn to gray, with patches of green stuff growing on the wood, like moss on a rock. Probably, they left the splinters to keep from slipping on the green stuff.
Anywhere there was metal, there was rust, especially the enormous winch that had dragged me out of the deep blue sea. It swallowed up the whole stern end of the boat. I also had a feeling that if I swam underneath to do a barnacle check on the hull, I wouldn’t be disappointed.
As soon as the doggie dudes saw that I was more or less alive, they backed off, moving to stand next to a low cabin at the front of the boat. They huddled together, more muttering all at once than actually speaking, occasionally waving their arms around and shouting out words that I could hear, but that made no sense at all.
One of them was tall and kind of vacant looking. He got my vote for the --it’s a fish, can we eat it-- award. One was short and pudgy with tiny greedy eyes that weren’t nice to look at.
The other two were almost as skinny as I am, with long narrow faces and buckteeth, kind of like big rats. They both had matted black hair, but no beards or mustaches, so they might have been women, but who could tell. Even their voices were more like each other than anything else, a little high for men and a little low for women.
They kept looking over at their unintended catch still caught up in the net. Me and the tangle of fish that surrounded me were clearly not what they had been looking for.
The thing was, that when I closed my eyes and just listened, even though the words didn’t make sense, it sounded like at least a dozen different voices were speaking, but when I looked, I could only see four of them. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and started to count again.
My headshake drew their attention. They all stopped talking and stared at me. Then, Greedy Eyes, glanced at the others, drew a short knife out from somewhere in his furry-looking jacket, if that’s what it was, and walked purposefully straight over to where I sat caught in the folds of the fish net.
Unlike a proper heroine who would have thrown off the nets and leaped into action, the sight of the knife and the menacing approach of its owner left me frozen. I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head and I know my mouth was hanging open. I sucked air hard but I couldn’t make a sound as he bent over me, the blade between us...
...and cut the cord that held my bag.
I breathed out.
The other three watched as he untangled the sampo from the net, opened it up and stuck his hand inside.
“It’s empty,” he said, handing it to the others who proceeded to poke, shake and turn it inside out, a fat grubby hand finally flinging it over the side.
“My bag,” I gasped, leaping to my feet at last. At least in my mind I leapt to my feet. What actually happened was, being tangled in the net, I kind of half rose, dripping fish, lost my balance and thumped back down, the poor fish squishing out from underneath me as I landed.
“What?” said No Beard Number One, looking hard at me. “What’s your name, kid? How did you get into the water?”
“Ohhhhhhhhh!” I groaned, and No Beard Number One and the others turned away. Having already decided that I was a dolphin rescue, I don’t think they were really interested in my name.
Tall and Vacant picked up another fishing net, hooked it onto the winch and tossed the whole thing into the water. He practically folded himself in half, leaning over the side of the boat, maybe to help the net along, maybe just to look. I don’t know.
But then Greedy Eyes tippy toed on his pudgy little feet up to Tall and Vacant’s exposed rear end. He put his grimy hands on Tall And Vacant’s butt and shoved.
CHAPTER 5
FISH DINNER
There was a splash, but no shouting or calling from the water. The No Beards watched passively as an expressionless Greedy Eyes took hold of the winch handle and started to lower the net.
The other two watched Greedy Eyes sweat and grunt as he pushed and pulled the rusty handle. Nobody could talk over the eyeball popping noise of the winch. The sun beat down on the deck, heating everything up. I couldn’t stop shivering.
Finally, to everyone’s relief, he was finished and the remaining three fur people, dripping dirt balls as they walked, retreated back to the cabin, where they resumed their huddle. But the muted conversation quickly changed to into an argument between Greedy Eyes and the No Beard Twins, that was loud enough for me to hear.
“Sell it,” Greedy Eyes was saying.
“Too puny,” No Beard Number One barked out.
“Yea,” said No Beard Number Two. “Throw it back. Let the dolphin keep it.”
“Lots of people want kids,” Greedy Eyes snarled at them. “They’ll pay all right.”
“Not for this one,” No Beard Number One snarled right back. “You’re so stupid. People only want babies.”
“I know a place where they always want kids,” Greedy Eyes lowered his voice, so it was hard to hear.
“This one isn’t big enough for the mines. They won’t pay you dipshit for it,” Number One growled.
“Yea. It’s too small for the mines and too big for people who want babies. Throw it back,” No Beard Number Two whined. “It’s useless.”
“L
ittle fish have parents,” Greedy Eyes said, clearly determined to turn me into treasure. “Sell it to the parents.”
It’s a good thing Tall And Vacant isn’t here, I thought, or I would be fish dinner for sure.
They continued this way for a while, trying to decide whether there might be anybody willing to pay money to get me back, whether I was worth ransoming and if it was a good idea in general. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, I have to get out of here and it better be soon.
All of a sudden, the winch started acting up on its own. They ran back to the winch so fast that the boat rocked, and started to pull up the net. Greedy Eyes cranked the handle while the two No Beards pulled at the chain. At last, after much heaving and complaining, they pulled aboard some big crates. Along with the crates came Tall And Vacant with a silly grin on his face. The thing was...he was totally dry.
Things were quickly found for prying open the boxes and pretty soon they were cheering, hollering, jumping up and down and generally celebrating. Drinks appeared and were sloshed around with a lot of singing and back thumping.
I tried to rise up through the tangle of nets to see if I could catch a glimpse of the contents of the boxes. I was spotted, of course, and an empty crate was immediately turned upside down on top of me and tied down with ropes to keep me from pushing it off.
I could see almost nothing out of the cracks in the sides but the bottom of the box, which was now my roof, was partly broken open, giving a view of the sky. Someone was raising a signal flag on the boat’s single mast.
For someone with so many advantages, I was in a pretty bad mess. I couldn’t fit out the top of the crate to fly away. I couldn’t get to the water to swim away, and my sampo was gone.
Mom’s last words were stuck on instant replay in my head. `Don’t go near any boats.’ It looks like my parents won’t be getting any phone calls from me tonight. My guilt button started competing with my panic button. I deserved to be somebody’s fish dinner.
CHAPTER 6
ABANDONED
I applied myself to getting untangled from the net. I had finally realized that there was still one thing that I could do.