Free The Summer of Chasing Mermaids by Sarah Ockler Page B

“Same, dude.”
    â€œYou guys cool to hang out a minute?” Christian asked once Noah had disappeared. He pointed in the distance toward a sleek ­yellow-and-blue boat at the other end of the marina. “That’s the Never Flounder . I need to do a quick recon. Be right back.”
    â€œHey.” Sebastian set down all his stuff, then looked up at me with a wide grin. “You’re the birthday cake girl.”
    I smiled and held up my hands, guilty as charged.
    Sebastian sat down on the bench, gesturing for me to follow.
    â€œHere’s a game I just invented,” he said as I sat beside him. “Let’s pretend we’re underwater. Only it’s like a dream, because we can breathe underwater and we can talk.”
    I frowned and pointed to my throat. Can’t talk , I mouthed. No voice.
    â€œAre you a mermaid?” he asked.
    I grinned. Maybe.
    After regarding me with open curiosity for several long but not uncomfortable moments, Sebastian said, “I read a story about a mermaid who couldn’t talk because the sea witch cut out her tongue.”
    I stuck out my tongue to alleviate his concern.
    Relived, he said, “Did you know some mermaids are boys?”
    He was right. I wondered if he’d read about the mermaids back home. Men, the old ones. Maybe Granna could send over some of the books, the island fairy tales she’d read to us growing up—I’d have to ask her next time we Skyped.
    I pulled out my notebook and made a quick sketch for him, something I remembered from those stories. He stayed utterly silent, watching each stroke with awe. At the bottom, I wrote:
    A mermaid from the Caribbean Sea, where I used to live.
    When I tore out the page and handed it to him, he said, “I can keep this?”
    I nodded. Sebastian considered me with those wide, genuine eyes, and when he reached up toward my throat, I didn’t flinch. His pink fingers found the shell around my neck, touched it softly. He lifted it and saw the scar. His brow furrowed.
    He whispered, “Is your voice inside the shell?”
    I smiled a little sadly.
    â€œThat’s okay,” he said. “We don’t have to talk to be friends.”
    â€œWhat are you two conspiring about over here?” Christian was back, standing on the dock with his arms folded. I wondered how long he’d been watching us, how much he’d heard.
    â€œI’m goin’ on a mermaid hunt,” Sebastian said, as if this explained everything. He rose from the bench and gathered up his gear. A thin silver camera dangled from a strap around his wrist.
    â€œThink this is the year you’ll find her?” Christian asked.
    Find who? I wanted to know.
    â€œRemember when I was telling you about Atargatis?” Sebastian said. Even his curls bounced with excitement. “She used to be a star, and then this one time she fell in love with a shepherd. And he loved her too, so he was always watching her. But he should’ve been paying attention to where he was going, because one night he tripped and fell into the sea and then he died.”
    My eyes widened. Sebastian was not one for the cartoon versions of fairy tales.
    â€œIt’s true,” he said. “Right, Christian?”
    Christian nodded. “According to the legend, she was so heart­broken and guilty over the death of her lover that she broke her oaths with the moon and the gods, and flung herself into the sea. She wanted to drown so she could find him again.”
    â€œYeah,” Sebastian said, “but the sea was like, ‘No way. You’re too beautiful and I can’t kill you. But I can’t send you back home, either.’”
    Goose bumps rose along my arms.
    â€œAnd then the sea turned her into the world’s first mermaid,” Sebastian said, “and she’s cursed to live in the ocean forever, and I’m going to find her.”
    Christian ruffled Sebastian’s curls.