The Tail of Emily Windsnap Read online

  “Emily!” Mom was tugging at my arm.

  I shook her off. “I’m busy.”

  Mom tugged again. “I think you should take a look.”

  I opened my fingers wide enough to sneak a peek between them. It was hard to see anything, actually; the boat was careening up and down so much. I felt even more giddy and reached out for the railing. That was when I heard it — someone calling my name! I looked at Mom even though I knew it hadn’t been her. Holding the railing beside me, she pointed out to the mountainous waves with her free hand.

  “Emily!” a familiar voice called again. Then a familiar head poked out above the waves, bobbing up and down in the swell. It was Shona! She grinned and waved at me.

  “What are you doing here?” I shouted.

  “It’s Monday. You didn’t show up at the rocks. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Oh, Shona, I’m so sorry.”

  “When you didn’t come, I had a funny feeling you’d be doing something like this!”

  “I’ve messed it all up,” I called, my throat clogged up. “We’re never going to get there now.”

  “Don’t be too sure!” she called back. “Throw me a rope. I’ll see if I can tow you.”

  “But the boat must weigh a ton!”

  “Not in water it doesn’t, so long as I can get some momentum going with my tail. We do it in P.E. all the time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Let’s just give it a try, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said uncertainly, and with a flick of her tail, she was gone. Shona’s tail! Of course! Not a shark fin at all!

  I made my way up to the front deck, untied a rope and threw it down. Mom came with me. I tried to avoid looking at her, but I could feel her eyes boring into the side of my face. “What?” I asked without turning to her.

  “Is she a . . . friend of yours?” Mom asked carefully.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Mom sighed. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, don’t we, sweetie?”

  I carried on looking ahead. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

  “A freak?” Mom reached over to pick up one of my hands. “Darling, I couldn’t be more proud.”

  Still holding my hand, she put her other arm around me. The boat had leveled out again, and I snuggled into Mom’s shoulder; wet, cold, and frightened. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes while we watched Shona pull us ever nearer to the prison — and Jake.

  A few moments later, Mom and I caught each other’s eyes, the same thought coming into our minds. Where is Mr. Beeston?

  “He might be hiding,” Mom said.

  “I think we should check it out.”

  Mom stood up. “I’ll go.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  She didn’t argue as we stood up and edged our way down the side of the boat. The deck was still soaking, and it was a slippery trip to the door.

  I pushed my head inside. Mr. Beeston was standing by a window in the saloon, his back to us, the window pushed open and a large shell in his hands.

  “A conch? What on earth is he doing with that?” Mom whispered.

  Mr. Beeston put the shell to his mouth.

  “Talking to it?” I whispered back.

  He muttered quietly into the shell.

  “What’s he saying?” I looked at Mom.

  She shook her head. “Stay here,” she ordered. “Crouch down behind the door. Don’t let him see you. I’ll be back in a second.”

  “Where are you going?” But she’d slid back outside. I hunched low and waited for her to return.

  Two minutes later, Mom was back with a huge fishing net in her arms. “What are you doing with —”

  Mom shushed me with a finger over her lips and crept inside. She beckoned me to follow.

  Mr. Beeston was still leaning out of the window, talking softly into his conch. Mom inched toward him, and I tiptoed behind her. When we were right behind him, she passed me one end of the net and mouthed, “Three . . . two . . .”

  When she mouthed, “One,” I threw my side of the net over Mr. Beeston’s head. Mom did the same on her side.

  “What the —” Mr. Beeston dropped the conch and fell back into a chair.

  “Quick, wrap it around him,” Mom urged.

  I ran in a circle around him, dragging the net with me. Mr. Beeston struggled and lashed out, but we kept wrapping, like when someone’s dog runs up to you in the park and knots your ankles together with its leash. Only better.

  Mom pushed him back into his chair and lifted his legs up. “Get his feet,” she demanded, dodging his kicks. I slipped under his legs with the net. There was still tons of net left over, so I ran around him again, fastening him to his chair. Mom grabbed my end of the net and tied it securely to hers, and we stood back to admire our work.

  “You won’t get away with this, you know,” Mr. Beeston said, struggling and trying to kick out. All he managed to do was make the chair wobble on its legs.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice suddenly boomed from the other side of the saloon.

  We all turned to see Millie clambering up off the sofa. She stood majestically in the center of the room, arms raised as though waiting for a voice from heaven.

  “I put my back out for weeks once, falling backward off a chair. Had to see a chiropractor for six months. And they’re not cheap, I can tell you.” She swept into the galley. “Okay, who’s ready for a nice, hot cup of tea?” she asked. “I’m parched.”

  The sea had calmed down, and the three of us drank our tea on the front deck. The sky sparkled with dancing colors. As we watched, the lights danced faster and faster. Pink, blue, green, gold — every color you could imagine, in a million different shades, jumping around, stabbing at the water as though it were too hot for them to settle. It seemed as though the lights were speaking — in an alien language that I had no chance of understanding.

  Millie looked at them intently for a while, then sniffed her cup of tea. “I don’t know what they put in this,” she said, draining the cup and heading back inside, “but I’ll have to get some.”

  Mom buttoned up her coat, her eyes fixed on the lights.

  “All of this,” she whispered. “I remember it all.”

  “Do you remember my dad?” I asked nervously, recalling what happened last time I had tried to find out about him.

  “We never meant it to happen,” she said, her eyes misting over. “He told me right from the start how dangerous it would be. It was after the regatta.”

  “The regatta?”

  “We used to hold it every year, but that was the last one. I don’t know how we went so wrong, but we did. I went with Mrs. Brig, who used to run the Sea View B & B. She had a little two-person yacht. We got into trouble on the rocks. That was when I met Jake.” She looked at me for the first time. “Your father,” she added before looking away again. “I don’t know what happened to Mrs. Brig. She moved away soon afterward. But Jake and I — well, I couldn’t help it. I went back to Rainbow Rocks every night.”

  “Rainbow Rocks?”

  “Well, near enough. I waited by those rocks you took me to. You know?”

  “Yes. I know.”

  She smiled sadly. “You knew more than I did. But not anymore. I remember it all.”

  “So did he come?”

  She shook her head. “I waited every night. Then one night I told myself I’d give it one last try before giving up for good. I just wanted to thank him.” She turned to face me again. “He saved my life, Emily.”

  “And he came?”

  She smiled. “He’d been there every night.”

  “Every night? But you said —”

  “He had hidden himself. But he had seen me every time I went. Said he couldn’t keep away either, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk to me.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know, that first time, when he helped us . . . he never got out of the water.” Mom laughed. “I thought at the time, what an amazing
swimmer!”

  “So you didn’t know . . .”

  “He thought I’d be shocked, or disgusted or something.”

  I took a deep breath. “And were you?”

  Mom put her hand out to me, cupped my chin. “Emily, when I saw his tail, when I knew what he was — I think that was the moment I fell in love with him.”

  “Really?”

  She smiled. “Really.”

  “So then what happened?”

  “Well, that was when I left home.”

  “Left home? You mean Nan and Granddad used to live here?”

  Mom swallowed hard. “I remember why we argued, now. They wouldn’t believe me. They thought I was crazy. They tried to make me see a psychiatrist.”

  “And you wouldn’t.”

  She shook her head. “So then they sold off everything and moved away from the ocean for good. They gave me an ultimatum — either I came with them, or . . .”

  “Or they didn’t want to know anything about you.” I finished her sentence for her.

  “The boat was your granddad’s. He didn’t want anything more to do with it — or me. Said he’d had enough of the sea to last him a lifetime.”

  “He gave it to you?”

  She nodded. “I like to think the gesture meant that a part of him knew it was true. That he knew I wasn’t crazy.”

  “And what about Jake?”

  “I used to sail out to sea to meet him, or around to Rainbow Rocks.”

  “Was that where they caught him?”

  She dabbed the edge of her eye with the palm of her hand. “I never believed it would happen,” she said. “Somehow, I thought everything would be all right. Especially after you were born.”

  “How come they didn’t make you move away?”

  “Maybe they wanted to keep an eye on us.”

  “On me, you mean?”

  She pulled me close, hugging me tight. “Oh, Emily,” she whispered into my hair. “You only saw him once. You were so tiny.”

  “I’m going to see him again, Mom,” I said, my voice coming out in a squeak. “I’m going to find him.”

  She smiled at me through misty eyes.

  “I am.”

  A moment later, I noticed Shona swimming around to the side of the boat. “We’re nearly there,” she called. “Are you coming in?”

  I looked at Mom. “Is it okay?” I asked.

  For an answer, she pulled me tighter — then she let me go.

  I ran inside and changed into my swimsuit. Millie came back out with me. I perched on the edge of the boat. “See you.” I smiled.

  Mom swallowed hard and held Millie’s hand as I jumped into the water. Within seconds I felt my tail form. My legs melted and stretched, spreading warmth through my whole body. I waved to Mom and Millie as they watched me from the front deck.

  “Look!” I shouted, then ducked under the water. I flicked my tail as gracefully as I could, waving it from side to side while I stretched out in a downward handstand. When I came back up, Mom was clapping. “Beautiful,” she called, wiping her hand across her eye. She blew me a kiss as I grinned at her. Millie’s eyes widened. She shook her head, then picked up Mom’s cup of tea and finished that one off, too.

  “Are you ready?” Shona asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, and we set off.

  The Great Mermer Reef isn’t like anything you’re ever likely to see in your life. It’s the highest, widest, longest wall in the world — in the universe, probably — made out of rainbow-colored coral, miles and miles from anywhere, smack in the middle of the sea.

  You don’t realize what it is at first. It feels like the end of the world, stretching up and down and across, farther than you can see in every direction. I shielded my eyes from the brightness. It reminded me of the school dance we had at our graduation at the end of last year. They’d borrowed a machine that threw disco lights across the room, swirling around and changing color in time to the music. The Great Mermer Reef was a bit like that, but about a million times bigger and brighter, and the colors swirled and flashed even more.

  And somehow, we had to get past it! It was the only way to the prison.

  As we got closer, the swirling lights became laser-beam rays, shooting out at every angle from jagged layers of coral heaped upon coral.

  Sharp, spiky rocks were piled all the way up to the surface and higher, with soft, rubbery bushes buried in every crevice in the brightest purples and yellows and greens you’ve ever seen. A moving bush like a silver Christmas tree flapped toward us. Two spotted shrimp dragged a starfish along the seabed. All around us, fish and plants bustled and rustled about. But we were stuck — in a fortress of bubbles and bushes and rocks. We couldn’t even climb over the top; it was way too high and rough. Above the water, the coral shot diamond rays where it sparkled with stones like cut glass. I was never, ever going to find him.

  “It’s hopeless,” I said, trying desperately not to cry. It was like that darn game about going on a bear hunt. You keep coming across things that you’ve got to get past. “We can’t get over it; we can’t get under it.”

  Shona was by my side, her eyes bright like the coral. “We’ll have to go through it!” she exclaimed, her words gurgling away in multicolored bubbles. “There’s bound to be a gap somewhere. Come on.” She pulled at my arm and dove deeper.

  We weaved in and out of spaghetti-fringed tubes and swam into bushes with tentacles that opened wide enough to swim inside. But it was the same thing every time: a dead end.

  I perched on a rock, ready to give up, while Shona scaled the coral, tapping it with her fingers like a builder testing the thickness of a wall. A huge shoal of fish that had been sheltering in a cave suddenly darted out as one, writhing and spinning like a kaleidoscope pattern. I stared, transfixed.

  “I think I’ve found something.” Shona’s voice jolted me out of my trance. She was scratching at the coral, and I swam closer to see what she’d found.

  “Look!” She scrabbled some more. Bits of coral crumbled away like dust in her fingers. She pulled me around and made me look closer. “What can you see?” she asked.

  “I can’t see anything.”

  “Look harder.”

  “What at?”

  Shona pushed her face close to mine and pointed into the jagged hole she’d scraped away at. She pushed her fist into it and pulled out some more dust; it floated away, dancing around us as she scraped.

  “It’s a weak point,” she said. “This stuff’s millions of years old. I’m sure they have people who check the perimeter and maintain it and stuff, but there’s always going to be a bit of it that they miss.”

  I pushed my own hand into the hole and scrabbled at it with my fingertips as though I were digging a hole into sand. It felt different from the rest of the wall. Softer. I pushed farther.

  Scrabbling and scraping, we’d soon scooped all the way up to our shoulders, white dust clouds billowing around us.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “Make it wider. Big enough to swim into.”

  We worked silently at the hole. The coral didn’t glint and glisten with colors once we got inside it. We scraped and scratched in darkness.

  Eventually, as my arms were going numb and my whole body was aching and itching from the dust particles swirling all around us, Shona grabbed my arm. I looked up and saw it. The tiniest flicker of light ahead of us.

  “We’re through,” I gasped.

  “Nearly. Come on.”

  Filled with hope, I punched my fist deep into the hole, scratching my hand as I pulled at the wall. The hole grew bigger and rounder, eventually large enough to get through. I turned to Shona.

  “Go on. You first,” she urged. “You’re smaller than me.”

  I scrunched my arms tightly against my body and flicked my tail gently. Then, scratching my arms and tail on the sides, I slid through the hole.

  Once on the other side, I turned and carried on scraping so Shona could get through as
well. But nothing came away in my hands. No dust. I cut my fingers against jagged rock.

  “I can’t make it bigger,” I called through the hole.

  “Me, neither,” Shona replied, her voice echoing inside the dark cavern I’d left behind.

  “Try to squeeze through.”

  Shona’s head came close to the hole. “It’s my shoulders. I’m too big,” she said. “I’ll never manage it.”

  “Should I pull you?”

  “I just can’t do it.” Shona backed away from the gap. “I’ll get stuck — and then you won’t be able to get back through.”

  “I can’t do it without you.” My voice shook as it rippled through the water to her.

  “I’ll wait here!”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise. I’ll wait at the end of the tunnel.”

  I took a deep breath. “This is it, then,” I said, poking my head into the opening.

  “Good luck.”

  “Yeah.” I backed away from the hole again. “And thanks,” I added. “For everything. You’re the bestest best friend anyone could want.”

  Shona’s eyes shone brighter in the darkness. “You are, you mean.”

  There was no way I’d been as good a friend as she had. I didn’t tell her that, though — I didn’t want her to change her mind!

  Then I turned away from the hole. Leaving the Great Mermer Reef behind me, I swam toward a dark maze of caves covered in sharp, jagged pieces of coral.

  “I’m going to see my dad,” I whispered, trying out the unfamiliar thought, and desperately hoping it could be true.

  I swam cautiously away from the reef, glancing nervously around me as I moved ever closer to the prison. A solitary manta ray slid along the ground, flapping its fins like a cape. Small packs of moody-looking fish with open jaws threaded slowly through the silent darkness, glancing at me as they passed. Ahead of me, a barrel of thick blackness rotated slowly. Then suddenly, it parted! Thousands of tiny fish scattered and reformed into two spinning balls. Beyond them, a dark gray shadow, bigger than me and shaped like a submarine, moved silently between them.