Magnus Fin and the Ocean Quest (12 page)

Magnus Fin clutched at the jagged black rock. Hoisting himself up through the water, his feet scrambled to find a foothold. Breaking through to the air, he hauled himself upright and breathed. It was low tide. Limpets clung to the sides of the rocks. A shoal of small black fish, disturbed by the sudden splash of a boy in a wetsuit, turned for a moment to stare at Magnus Fin then swam away. A strange feeling came over him, as though he had just awoken from a long and wonderful dream. One of those dreams where you wake up and know that everything has changed for the better. Magnus felt something prick his toe. He looked down and a tiny pink crab with missing pincers travelled over his foot. It scuttled off and disappeared.

Magnus Fin gazed over the skerries towards the beach. Smoke drifted over the water. The smoke was coming from the cave, his father’s cave. And there on the beach stood not his father, but Tarkin. He was waving madly and running towards Magnus, splashing through the water, then leaping from rock to rock. The tide was out and the light of the moon plus the light of the setting sun bathed the whole shore in a red glow.

“You did it, Fin, you did it! You were away for three whole minutes,” he shouted, excitedly waving his hands.

Magnus Fin jumped from rock to rock towards his friend. With every rock closer to the shore, the world under the sea faded like a dream.

“Hi-fives!” shouted Tarkin, drawing face to face with his friend. The two boys slapped hands together then raced along the beach, and in moments the whole adventure under the sea faded in the mind of Magnus Fin.

When they reached the door of the cottage, the two boys stopped running and leant against the wall, panting like dogs. “I think I beat you, Fin. We were neck and neck but I think I got here first. It’s just cos I’ve got longer legs. And you’ve got bare feet!”

“OK, you win,” said Magnus, gasping. “You’re taller. If it was a swimming competition I bet I’d win.”

“Yeah, I know that, Fin. You are one cool swimmer. Look, don’t tell people at school about me not swimming, OK? Let’s keep it secret, and I was thinking, maybe you could teach me. And I could teach you to play guitar. Deal?”

“Yeah,” said Magnus Fin, still out of breath and not sure what was real and what was not.

“Cool, I mean, how about we go to Neptune’s Cave and you tell me all about it. Like, what was it like under the sea? Did you meet the mermaid?” Tarkin’s eyes were gleaming and he tugged at Fin’s elbow. “Come on, let’s go!”

It came back to Magnus Fin in flashes: being under the water, blood and seals and crumbling
stone. It was too soon to talk about it …

Magnus Fin looked at his friend and as he did so more images of his adventure came flooding back. It was real. It had happened.

“Tarkin – I did it. It worked.”

“I want to hear all about it. Everything.”

They sat on the stone wall outside Magnus Fin’s house and he turned the moon-stone round and round in his hands. “It really worked. I went under. I found the door. I met the selkies. I really did go under the sea.”

“I know, Fin. I know. I sneaked out of my house. I wanted to be there for you. I saw a flash of green light. I saw the rock open. I was there at the cave. I got there early and made a fire. I wanted to help you, Fin. I chanted a Native American prayer the whole time you were away.”

“I thought you said it was just a few minutes?”

“It was.”

“But look, Tarkin – I got gifts. You won’t believe this but they are from Neptune. I can’t remember what they’re for though. But cool shells, eh? You can have one.” And Magnus Fin stretched out his fist and uncurled it. The four rainbow shells lay in the palm of his hand.

Tarkin stared at the shells as though they were diamonds. “Wow! Oh wow! Can I really, Fin?”

“Yeah – really.”

Tarkin looked at each one then finally chose the smallest shell, which was bright green with tiny red dots over it.

Just then someone called out. The boys glanced up and saw the figure of a man running along the beach path towards the cottage. “Hey! Tarkin!” the man shouted at the top of his voice.

“Oh drat, it’s Mom’s boyfriend!” Tarkin said, jumping off the wall.

Magnus Fin thought of his parents inside. He had already caught a glance of his father peering through the curtain. He would be anxious to know what had happened. And now, of all times, it seemed they had visitors! Tarkin’s mum’s boyfriend arrived at the garden wall, puffing and panting.

“Tarkin! We were so worried about you! Your mom’s in a panic. Where have you been, boy? You should have told us you were going out. Thank God you’re OK.” He stopped and turned to Magnus Fin. “So this is Magnus Fin? Heard a lot about you and your treasure-hunting, Fin. Tarkin can’t seem to talk about anything else,” the man said, stretching out his hand to shake the hand of the surprised boy in front of him. Magnus Fin wasn’t in the habit of shaking hands and didn’t like it much, having his hand pumped vigorously up and down. Suddenly the man let go of his hand and swung round again to his girlfriend’s son.

“But it’s eleven o’clock at night, Tark, and you are eleven years old. You’re just a child! You go out, you ask. Your mother, she’s been so darned worried about you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s midsummer. Look at the moon, and the sun, and Fin here had an adventure, something he had to do, and he needed my help.
It was important for me to be here. I thought if I asked, you and Mom would say no!”

“Still, Tark, you should have asked her.”

“This was important. You don’t understand – Fin needed me.”

“Yeah – well, not at this hour. You’re a long way from home. Anything might happen …”

“Home? That’s a laugh. Where’s home?”

The conversation was going on a while and Magnus Fin began to feel awkward. He sensed his father hiding behind the curtains inside the house, anxious to know about Miranda and the seal folk.

“I’ve got to go,” he interrupted shyly, “sorry. See you tomorrow, Tarkin. Goodbye Mr … um, bye.” Magnus Fin turned and ran up the path to the cottage.

“See ya, Fin,” Tarkin shouted, “and thanks buddy,” he added, waving his fist with the gift shell in his hand.

“Good night then, Magnus Fin,” shouted the man.

Magnus Fin turned and looked at them. He felt sorry for Tarkin, who looked like he might burst into tears. He waved at them both then turned, opened the front door of his house and went inside.

“I’m home,” he called as he stepped into the cosy living room. He expected everything to be different. He felt as though he had been away for a long time, but looking around, everything was just as he had left it. Even the fire had hardly died down. He could smell hot chocolate.

His father appeared at the kitchen door with a mug in his hands. “Good to see you, son,” he said.

Magnus Fin peered into his father’s face, half expecting the deep lines in his skin to melt away. His father looked at him quizzically then said, “I’ll take this hot chocolate to your mother and I’ll be right back. Or better still – you take it, son. She likes it when you take in her drink.”

So Magnus Fin took the drink in to his mother. It was still light in her room and the last rays of the midsummer sun streamed low on to her face. She took the drink and cupped her hands around the mug.

“I thought it was never coming,” she said, smiling. Magnus Fin sat on the edge of the bed and watched his mother wrap her hands round the steaming cup of cocoa.

“Neptune said yes,” Magnus whispered. Barbara, sipping, nodded, and a slow fat tear ran down her cheek. She turned and smiled at her son.

“You are forgiven. Neptune said yes,” Magnus Fin said again. Thinking perhaps his mother hadn’t heard, he repeated himself, louder this time, “Neptune said yes.”

But Barbara was so choked with tears she couldn’t speak. She could only nod her head, tears now running down her lined face, and landing with a splash into her drink.

‘Did the door open for you, son?” Ragnor asked after Barbara had fallen asleep and father and son were sitting together by the fire. Excitement burst
through his speech and his deep green eyes shone.

Magnus Fin nodded. Yes, it had, hadn’t it? There had been many doors, opening.

“And Miranda?” Ragnor went on. “Did you meet Miranda? Was she waiting for you, son?” Again the boy nodded. Yes, there had been a Miranda. A Miranda with long white hair and, so he thought, a belt of amber and a necklace of shells. There had been a selkie who had spoken to him, who had given him a message. His grandmother, sometimes a woman, sometimes a seal: that was Miranda.

“She loves you,” said Magnus and he took off the moon-stone necklace and put it round his father’s neck. “You’ve to wear this for three days she said,” Magnus Fin whispered, “then let Mum wear it for three days.” A tear rolled down Ragnor’s old lined face and he lifted a finger to stroke the stone.

“Did you go to Sule Skerrie?”

Magnus Fin nodded.

“And the waves, Fin? Did you manage to bring them back?”

Magnus Fin could only shrug. Bringing back the waves was Neptune’s job, wasn’t it? Speech was difficult. It was like waking from a vivid dream and then having to immediately talk about it. It had been real, Magnus decided, but now, in the last rays of the midsummer sunlight, in familiar surroundings, it seemed so strange. Ragnor sighed, then father and son turned and stared into the flames of the fire.

The next day after school Magnus Fin and Tarkin were in Neptune’s Cave doing their homework. “Seventeen times three is?”

Tarkin chewed the end of his pencil, looking thoughtful. “Well, seven times three is –
twenty-one
and three times ten is thirty.”

“And twenty-one plus thirty is … fifty-one!” Magnus Fin scribbled the answer down. “So what is the square root of sixteen?”

“Square root just means divide it by four, I think. I mean, that’s how it was in New York. Maybe in Scotland it’s different. Or, um, does it mean divide it by itself? Um, maybe I got it wrong!”

Finding it hard to focus on homework, the image of four shells flashed into Magnus Fin’s mind and something about beauty and freedom. “Maybe it was all a dream,” he said, suddenly forgetting square roots.

“Or time-travel?” said Tarkin.

“Or magic?”

“Or a near death experience because you dunked your head underwater for three whole minutes?”

They both laughed. Magnus Fin jumped up and
brought out the three tiny shells that he had left beside his bed the night he returned from the sea. They were patterned in all the colours of the rainbow. “I remember now – beauty, truth, love and freedom. That’s what Neptune said.”

“Well, Fin, which one do you think I got?” said Tarkin, staring at the beautiful shells. “Can you remember which shell was which?”

“No, Tarkin. It’s hard enough for me to remember what it was like under the sea. Sometimes I remember selkies and a monster and horrible blood and eyes and a bottle and a treasure chest – and even a fridge!” Then Magnus Fin’s eyes lit up. “You got the freedom shell. I remember now. You got freedom, Tark.”

Tarkin brightened up. “Freedom to stay, do you think?”

“Yeah, why not?” said Magnus Fin.

“But don’t you want freedom too?” said Tarkin.

“I’ve got it and I gave it to you – you can have beauty, truth and love as well. We can share them all. Woo! We’re rich!” shouted Magnus Fin, getting up and jumping around his room.

“We’re rich, we’re rich, we’re very, very rich, we got no car but thumbs to hitch, we’re rich, we’re rich, we’re very, very rich, got the sea and the sky and we sleep in a ditch,” Tarkin sang, joining Magnus Fin in dancing around the room.

“Hey, Tarkin – you should write musicals.” Magnus laughed. “That’s not bad.”

“Yeah, I get it from Mom. Hey, come on, Fin – I want the whole story. Tell me all about it. Did you see the mermaid?” Tarkin nudged Magnus Fin in the ribs.

“Well – yes, but just once, and she was asleep. But I saw lots of selkies, and loads of sunken ships. And the monster – and the crab.”

Tarkin loved the crab. He wanted to know all about it – in detail. “Like, was it a hermit crab or a velvet crab? Did it have barnacles all over its shell?”

And Magnus Fin told his story. And when he’d told it once he had to tell it again. And even when the sun sank in the west, the two friends were still talking selkies and mermaids and monsters and sunken ships and crabs.

“Tell me one more time about the crab. I love that crab. That was just so brave what he did. Wow! Do you think we could go under the sea and you could take me with you? I mean, once I’ve learnt how to swim. Then I’d see the mermaid – and the crab. D’you think so, Fin?”

“Yeah, sure. Miranda said I’d go back. She said I would.”

“I’m sure it would be OK if I went with you, Fin. I’m special too. Remember, I saw a mermaid and Dad couldn’t see her – or hear her? I did. I can’t wait for you to teach me how to swim. When are you going to start the swimming lessons, Fin?” Tarkin asked, shaking his friend’s arm. “I’ll bring my guitar round. I’ll teach you ‘Smoke on the Water’. Hey, Fin. You OK? You look funny, man.”

Magnus Fin shook himself then laughed. “Yeah. I’m fine. Fine. It’s just – you might go away. You said you might.”

Tarkin grew silent and twisted the end of his ponytail. “Yeah, but, we could – you know, Fin –
keep in touch.” But Tarkin’s voice didn’t sound as hopeful as he tried to make it.

Magnus Fin forced a smile. “Well, I hope you don’t leave.” Then he remembered the shells he had been holding all this time in his hand. He lifted them to his ear. “Listen, Tarkin,” he gasped, “they’re making a noise! I can hear the waves crashing.”

Tarkin brought his ear to the cowrie shells and listened. “Wow! Oh, man, that is wild. What a din!”

Then Magnus Fin pressed the shells close to his ear and imagined he could hear the voice of Miranda singing, “Son of Ragnor, the waves are crashing again.”

“Come on, Tarkin,” called Magnus, jumping to his feet, “race you down to the sea.”

Tarkin leapt up and followed Magnus out of the house and along the shore path. The two boys ran like the wind, Magnus Fin’s mop of black hair bouncing up and down, Tarkin’s long blond ponytail streaming behind him. Panting hard, they stopped before they reached the beach, and their jaws almost fell to their feet. Huge crashing waves twenty feet high reared up then flung themselves, white and thunderous, against the rocks.

“Wow, looks like a roller-coaster ride,” shouted Tarkin, wishing he had a surfboard and wishing he could swim. The two boys whooped and yelled. They ran into the sea when the waves sucked back and ran out when the waves pounded in. Salt spray splashed over them. They yelled and
got soaked as the waves rolled in, smashing over the rocks and cliff sides, flinging spray far up in the air.

As they watched the mighty waves, everything the sea had swallowed for years was spewed up. Hundreds of plastic bottles were flung on to the beach and then more: car parts, batteries, ropes, nets, tin cans, bicycles, crash helmets, forks, tents, dead sheep, all hurled back to the land. Norwegian milk cartons, Orcadian juice bottles, Swedish washing-up liquid, broken boats, creels, oil drums, bits of toys, all flung themselves at Magnus Fin and Tarkin’s feet. The two boys yelled at the top of their lungs when a huge wave soaked both of them.

And as they ran up the beach with the waves crashing and smashing just yards from them, they looked up and saw they weren’t the only ones on the beach. Ragnor was coming towards them, waving and walking as fast as he could. The limp, Magnus Fin thought, didn’t look as bad as it usually did.

Behind him the boys could see a crowd of people. They were swarming down from the village, some running, and some walking, all eager to see the leaping waves. Mrs McLeod was amongst them. She approached Tarkin and Magnus Fin with a big smile on her face.

“Looks like you boys have got some work to do cleaning this beach,” she laughed. “See you on Monday. And Magnus Fin,” she said, winking at him, “be on time!”