The Tail of Emily Windsnap (10 page)

“Monday night, then.” I smiled. “And good luck.”

By the time I got home, I was so tired I could have fallen asleep standing up. But my head was spinning with thoughts and questions. And sadness. I’d found out where my father was, but how would we ever get there? Would we really find him? It felt like I was losing him all over again. I’d virtually lost my mom as well. If only I could make her remember!

As I tried to get to sleep, something Shona had said swam into the corner of my mind.
Sometimes it doesn’t work at all, especially if you go near merfolk areas.

Of course!

I knew
exactly
what I was going to do.

Mom always sleeps in on Sundays. She says even God had a day of rest, and she doesn’t see why she can’t. I’m not allowed to disturb her until she says it’s morning — which usually isn’t until around noon.

I paced up and down the boat, willing her to wake up. What if she slept right through the afternoon and woke up at coffee time? Disaster! I couldn’t take the risk of Mr. Beeston showing up before I’d spoken to her. So I broke a golden rule. I crept into her room and sat on the bed.

“Mom,” I stage-whispered from the end of the bed. She didn’t stir. I inched farther up and leaned toward her ear. “Mom,” I croaked a bit louder.

She opened one eye and then closed it again. “Whadyouwan?” she grumbled.

“You have to get up.”

“Whassamatter?”

“I want to go out.”

Mom groaned and turned over.

“Mom, I want us to go out together.”

Silence.

“Please get up.”

She turned back to face me and opened her eyes a crack.

“We never do anything together,” I said.

“Why now? Why can’t you leave me in peace? What time is it, anyway?”

I quickly turned her alarm clock around so she couldn’t see it. “It’s late. Come on, Mom.
Please.
”

Mom rubbed her eyes and lay on her back. “I don’t suppose you’re going to give me any peace until I do, are you?”

I smiled hopefully.

“Just leave me alone and I’ll get up.”

I didn’t move. “How do I know you won’t go back to sleep the minute I leave?”

“Emily! I said I’ll get up and I will. Now leave me alone! And if you want to get back in my good graces, you can make me a nice cup of tea. And then I might forgive you.”

Mom took a bite of her toast. “So, where do you imagine we’re going, now that you’ve ruined my Sunday morning?”

I knew
exactly
where we were going. Shiprock Bay. The nearest you could get to Rainbow Rocks by road. I’d been studying the bus routes, and there was one that took us almost all the way there. We could get off on the coast road and walk along the headland. It must be worth a try. I had to jog her memory somehow.

“I just thought we could have a day trip around the coast,” I said casually as I popped a piece of toast and strawberry jelly in my mouth.

“What about Mr. Beeston?”

“What about him?” I nearly choked on my toast.

“We’ll have to be back by three. We can’t let him down.”

“Oh, Mom! Can’t you break your date with him for once?”

“
Emily.
Mr. Beeston is a lonely man and a good friend. How many times do I have to tell you that? You know I don’t like letting him down. He has not broken our arrangement once in all these years, and I’m not about to do it to him now. And it is
not
a date!”

“Whatever.” This wasn’t the time to tell her what I knew about the ‘lonely man.’ What
did
I know, anyway? Nothing that made any sense. I swallowed hard to get my toast down. My throat was dry. We’d still have time to get there. Maybe we could accidentally-on-purpose miss the bus back. I’d think of something. I
had
to!

“This is really nice, actually.” Mom looked out of the window as we bumped around the coast road. It had started to turn inland, and I was trying to figure out which stop would be best for us to try. The ocean looked completely different from this angle. Then I saw a familiar clump of rocks and decided to take a chance. I got up and rang the bell. “This is our stop,” I said.

“You know, I think I’m almost glad you woke me up,” Mom said as we got off the bus. “Not that that’s an excuse to do it every week!” She walked over to a green bench on the headland that looked out to sea and sat down. “And you’ve picked such a nice spot, too.”

“What are you doing?” I asked as she reached into her bag and brought out the sandwiches.

“We’re having a picnic, aren’t we?”

“Not
here
!”

Mom looked around. “Why not? I can’t see anywhere better.”

“Mom, we’re right by the road! Let’s walk out toward the water a bit.”

She frowned.

“Come on, just a little way.
Please.
You promised.”

“I did no such thing!” she snapped. But she put the sandwiches back anyway, and we headed along a little headland path that led out toward the beach.

After we’d been walking for about fifteen minutes, the path came to an abrupt end. In front of us was a gravelly climb down the cliff.

“Now what?” Mom looked around.

“Let’s go down there.”

“You must be joking. Have you seen my shoes?”

I looked at her feet. Why hadn’t I thought to tell her not to wear her platform sandals? “They’re okay,” I said.

“Emily. I am
not
going to break my ankles just so you can drag me off down some dangerous cliff.” She turned around and started walking back.

“No, wait!” I looked around desperately. She couldn’t leave — she had to see the rocks. A winding path lay almost hidden under brambles, stony and rough but not nearly as steep as the other one. “Let’s try here,” I said. “And look — it gets flat again over there if we can just get down this part.”

“I don’t know.” Mom looked doubtfully down the cliff.

“Come on; let’s try it. I’ll go first and then I can cushion your fall if you trip and go flying.” I tried an impish smile, and she gave in.

“If I break my legs, you’re bringing me breakfast in bed every day until I’m better.”

“Deal.”

I picked my way through the brambles and stones, checking behind me every few seconds to make sure Mom was still there. We managed to get down to the rocks in one piece.

Mom rubbed her elbow. “Ouch. Thorns.” She pulled up a piece of seaweed and rubbed it on her arm. I gazed in front of us. Just a few yards of water separated us from Rainbow Rocks. I couldn’t help smiling as I watched the sea washing over the flat rocks, rainbow water caressing them with every wave.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

I took a deep breath. “Do you believe in mermaids?” I asked, my throat tight and strained.

Mom laughed. “Mermaids? Oh, Emily, you do ask some silly —”

But then she stopped. She dropped the seaweed on the ground. Looking out to sea, her face went all hard.

“What is it, Mom?” I asked gently.

“Where are we?” she whispered.

“Just by the coast. I just thought it’d be nice to go out for —”

“What is this place?”

I hadn’t actually thought about what I’d say once we got here! What would she do if she knew — not just about Jake but about me, too? What if she only half remembered? She might think we were
both
freaks. Maybe she’d be ashamed of us. Why hadn’t I thought this through?

I cleared my throat. “Um, it’s just some rocks,” I said carefully. “Isn’t it?”

Mom turned to me. “I’ve been here before,” she said, her face scrunched up as if she was in pain.

“When?”

“I don’t know. But I know this place.”

“Shall we go farther down?”

“No!” She turned back the way we’d come. “Emily. We have to go back. Mr. Beeston will be expecting us.”

“But we just got here. Mr. Beeston won’t be around for ages yet.”

“I can’t stay here,” Mom said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about it. We’re going home.” She started walking back so quickly I could hardly keep up.

We ate our sandwiches on that green bench on the headland, after all. A bus went whizzing past just as we were approaching the road, so there was nothing to do but wait for the next one. We ate in silence: me not knowing what to say, Mom gazing into space.

I kept wanting to ask her things, or tell her things, but where could I start?

Eventually another bus came, and we rode home in silence as well. By the time we got back to Brightport Pier, it was nearly four o’clock.

“Are you angry with me?” I asked as we let ourselves into the boat.

“Angry? Why? You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?” Mom searched my face.

“I wanted to have a nice day out and now you’ve gotten all sad.”

Mom shook her head. “Just thoughtful, sweetheart. There was something about that place. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“What? What was it?”

“It was such a strong memory, but I don’t even know what it was.” She shook her head again and took her coat off. “Listen to me, talking drivel as usual.”

“You’re not talking drivel at all,” I said urgently. “What was the memory?”

Mom hugged her coat. “Do you know, it wasn’t a memory of a
thing.
More a feeling of something. I felt an overwhelming feeling of . . . love.”

“Love?”

“And then something else. Sadness. Enormous sadness.” Mom took her coat down to the engine room to hang it up. “I told you I was talking nonsense, didn’t I?” she called. “Now get that teakettle on, and I’ll go and give Mr. Beeston a shout. I’ll bet he’s wondering where we’ve been.”

I glanced out of the window as I filled the kettle. Mr. Beeston was on his way up the pier! My whole body shivered. He was striding fast and didn’t look happy.

POUND! POUND! POUND!
He banged on the roof as Mom came back in the kitchen.

“Oh, good. He’s here.” Mom went to let him in. “Hello.” She smiled. “I was just coming to —”

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“We’ve been out for a little adventure, haven’t we Emily? Just up along the —”

“I was here at three o’clock,” he snapped, stabbing a finger at his watch. “I waited a whole hour. What’s the meaning of this?” His head snapped across to face me. I swallowed hard.

Mom frowned at us both. “Come on, there’s no need to get upset,” she said. “Let’s have some coffee.” She went to get the cups and saucers. “What have you got for us today, Mr. B.? Some lovely cinnamon buns? With vanilla glaze?”

“Doughnuts,” Mr. Beeston said without taking his eyes off me.

“I haven’t done anything,” I said.

“Of course you haven’t, Emily. Who said you did? Now, won’t you please join us?” Mom held a cup out to Mr. Beeston as he finally turned away. He took his jacket off and folded it over the back of a chair.

“No, thanks.” I lay on the sofa and eavesdropped, waiting for Mr. Beeston to try to inject her with the memory drug. I had to catch him in the act, to prove to Mom that he wasn’t really her friend. But what if he got to me first? What if he injected
me
with the memory drug, too?