Free A Mischief of Mermaids by Suzanne Harper

head, but said nothing. Her mother had been suggesting this ever since Rolly was one month old. It had never worked, for two reasons. One was that Rolly had decided, apparently on the day he was born, that he couldn’t waste any time sleeping because he had too much to do in his life.
    The second reason Mrs. Malone’s strategy was useless, of course, was that Rolly didn’t think happy thoughts. Cunning thoughts, yes. Obsessive thoughts, certainly. Stubborn thoughts, without a doubt. But happy thoughts? No.
    â€œI don’t want to nod off,” he said. “I don’t want to go to dreamland. I don’t want to sleep at all, not ever!”
    â€œYou have made that abundantly clear over the years,” said Mr. Malone through gritted teeth. “I don’t suppose you’d try counting sheep?”
    Rolly gave him a black look. “I don’t like sheep.”
    â€œWell, try counting lake monsters, then,” Mr. Malone snapped.
    â€œNow there’s a brainstorm!” Mrs. Malone said brightly. “In fact, why don’t you just close your eyes for a few minutes. You don’t have to actually sleep. You just need to rest for a few minutes and the best way to do that is with your eyes closed.”
    Rolly thought this over, as if testing the idea for a trap, but finally nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll rest. As long as I don’t have to sleep.” He fell back on the deck chair, screwed his eyes closed, and crossed his arms belligerently, as if daring sleep to overtake him.
    For several minutes, everyone worked in silence, scarcely daring to breathe. And then, the most delightful sound interrupted the quiet of the night. It was a deep buzzing that sounded like a hive of irritated bees. It was the sound of Rolly snoring.
    â€œFinally!” Mr. Malone said.
    â€œShh.” Mrs. Malone held up a warning hand. “Quietly, quietly! We don’t want him to wake up. . . .”
    Everyone tiptoed to the far side of the boat, where Mrs. Malone returned to the matter of the photos.
    â€œIt can’t be just a coincidence,” she insisted. “Ten of the last fifteen sightings in this area have involved three sets of moving lights, all shaped like triangles—”
    â€œMaybe they were plane lights,” said Poppy, adding helpfully, “You know, those lights on the wings and the tail? The ones that keep planes from running into one another? Have you ever noticed how they look like a triangle?”
    Mrs. Malone ignored this. “Witnesses said that the lights moved at a tremendous rate of speed. Faster than any plane they’d ever seen. One minute the lights were over there”—she waved toward the eastern shore—“and the next minute— whoosh! —they had shot across to the other side of the lake and then disappeared!”
    â€œI think I heard a story like that once,” said Henry, interested. “But it happened a long time ago. One of my friends at school said his grandfather saw the lights when he was a kid.”
    â€œOh, the sightings have been going on for years,” said Mrs. Malone. She pushed her glasses up her nose, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve been doing some research online. There are stories about UFO sightings in the local newspapers dating back to the eighteen hundreds. In fact, five of the top twenty cities around the world that have reported UFOs are right here in Texas! And Austin is number six on the list! Some people say—”
    â€œUh-huh,” said Will. “So, are we going to get something to eat? Because Henry and I are starving.”
    â€œThere’s fruit in the fridge,” Mrs. Malone said. “Oh, and some granola bars! That will help boost our energy and keep us going! All night, if need be!”
    â€œFruit! Granola bars!” Will said in disgust. “I thought Dad was going to make spaghetti.”
    â€œWith