Miri Attwater and the Ocean's Secret

Chapter 5 Bathtubs and Other Hazards

Real! thought Miri. Look who's talking about real! Her mom's talking about mermaids and she thinks it's silly that Miri would suggest that magic is real? How could she turn into a mermaid if it didn't happen by magic?

"Your necklace works by blocking the electric signal that would change your legs into tails. It's a capacitor," said her mom.

"It's a what?"

"A capacitor. It stores the electric energy. Kind of like a battery."

This wasn't making any sense. First her mom said she was a princess. That was exciting. Then she said she was a mermaid princess. That was ridiculous. Now she was babbling on about electricity and batteries. She couldn't see what electricity could possibly have to do with princesses or mermaids, if mermaids were real. Which they weren't. Right?

Her mom grabbed her by the hand. "Come on. I'll show you," she said, and she started off across the park.

Miri had to kind of hop-skip every couple of steps to keep up. All the while, thoughts kept bubbling around in her head. A princess. She was a princess! Crowns, and jewels, and gowns. Oh, my! But– a mermaid? Her thoughts popped like soap bubbles. She couldn't possibly be a mermaid. Even if, suppose for a tiny fraction of a second, she pretended that mermaids were real. Mermaids live in the ocean. And the ocean is deep and... and... there are sharks in the ocean!

She was just about to ask about that when they reached the aquarium building and her mom opened the door. She walked past all the tanks until she got to the octopus exhibit.

"See," she said, and pointed to the pile of rocks in the middle of the tank. "It's like that."

"Um, Mom, that's just a bunch of rocks."

Her mom tapped lightly on the glass. To Miri's surprise, half of the rock pile melted into an octopus, swam off, and settled into the far corner of the tank. One of its pointy arms waved lazily like a serpent. She could see all the suckers on the bottom.

"So now," she said slowly, "you're telling me I'm an octopus?" She wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Gross!"

Her mom crossed her arms in exasperation. "No, Miri–" She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I meant, the octopus can change how it looks, its color and the texture of its skin, to blend in anywhere. Nerve signals, which work by electricity, control it. Mermaid tails work like that. The nerve signals change legs into tails and back again. Tails in water and legs on land."

Miri still didn't want to believe it. "But I can't be a mermaid. I don't even like to swim."

"It's because you're not swimming properly. Swimming with legs is so clumsy."

Miri still wasn't convinced.

"Haven't you ever wondered why you liked your food so salty?" her mom continued. "How you never stay wet, how water rolls right off of you? And haven't you ever noticed that Mr. Whickers really likes you?"

"It's because I feed him. And he likes it when I rub behind his left ear."

"No," her mom said, "it's because you smell like tuna."

"You mean I smell like a tuna fish sandwich?"

"Only to cats. And they don't think that's a bad thing."

That was only partially comforting. But what if what her mom was saying was true?

"So," said Miri slowly, "you say I'm a mermaid."

Her mom nodded.

"And then I guess my mother's a mermaid. And she's your sister. So that must mean that you're a mermaid?"