There are a lot of places where you could go to a beach in October and have a glorious time. Hawaii stands out in my mind. Jamaica probably. The Florida and Gulf Shore beaches were supposed to still be great for Fall Break. I’ve even heard that the Southern California beaches could be a destination because it wasn’t too cold yet. But the beaches in Washington State on a Friday morning, at dawn, in the rain, weren’t usually vacation hot spots. Dismally cold, moist and a little foggy, I couldn’t think of many less pleasant places to spend my time. However, thanks to my video, Grayland Beach was packed with people like it was a hot summer day, and the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet. The campground around the beach was filled with trailers and tents. People stood around in the sticky sand in their rain gear, holding umbrellas over friends with cameras.
What were they hoping to see in the dark, cold rainy morning? I couldn’t imagine being so fascinated with the idea of something that I would purposely drag myself out on a morning like this. I was only here because my parents insisted. My warm bed at home beckoned me, “Come back home, you silly, stupid girl. You can’t do anything there, but you can come here and sleep.”
I drank more coffee and tried to shut that thought out.
It didn’t take long for people to recognize the three of us. We were who they had been waiting for, after all. My dad and I had a pretty distinctive look with our long, black hair and dark skin. Not too many American Indian dads and daughters in the news on a regular basis. I made a point of not wearing a hat, but I’d pulled my hair into a long ponytail to keep it out of my face. I wore a good sweater and jeans without holes in case the rain ever stopped long enough for me to take off my slicker and pose for a few pictures. Dad had work clothes on, not planning to be on camera at all. Mom, though, she was dressed as well as she could manage despite the weather. Her brown hair was pinned back neatly in a French twist so it wouldn’t frizz in the rain, and she wore a dress suit under her fitted raincoat. Her high-heeled leather boots sank in the sand, but they prevented her from ruining her nylons. All around us people looked like the rain falling on them was the closest thing they’d had to a bath in a couple days, and my mom looked like a super model. God bless her.
“We’ll be right with all of you,” my mom insisted, as we pushed through the crowd. “We just need to survey the situation here first and make sure the animals are safe. That is our first priority.”
Surprisingly, the people backed off and let us do our job. Right at the shoreline, we found a few more dead fish and birds, but nothing like the devastation of three days ago. I could still feel the slick oil in the water when I dipped my hand in it, and balls of it were scattered all over the sand in the tide line, mixed with the algae and shells. I gathered up the dead creatures in trash bags, and dad put what was living in some buckets full of ocean water.
Mom, naturally, did not touch anything that would make her dirty. She sought out a great little spot near the rocks at the far end of the beach. She spread out a blanket and set up a couple director chairs on them. A couple male reporters helped her assemble a gazebo tent over it to keep the rain off of her (and their cameras). This would be her station for the day, where she would conduct her business. By the time she was done with her set-up, she had made the interview spot look like a small movie set.
Mom settled into one of the chairs and crooked a finger at me to come join her. After a quick wash of my hands with some sanitizer, I sat next to her. From where Dad stood, a foot deep in the ocean, I saw him shake his head in disgust. I’m pretty sure that head shake was about my mom and I, not what he was seeing in the foamy waves. Mom tugged the ponytail holder out and spread my hair around my shoulders. Then she gave me a smile and sang, “Here we go.”
The local news teams closed in first to get some shots for those people who mostly watch the news in the morning to see if they needed to grab their umbrellas before heading out to work. These reporters weren’t looking for a lot of detail and they didn’t ask many questions. Mostly I heard things like, “It’s a cold, rainy morning here at Grayland Beach with Internet sensation Juniper Sawfeather. It might not be the best day to go mermaid watching, because the clouds are not going to clear up at all today. What do you think, Trudy?” And then they’d shoot it right back to the weather girl and the traffic guy at the station.
Once the sun came up, the local news teams took off and made room for the more invested journalists who took turns talking to us about what we had found, what Dad was still doing out there in the water, and what we were planning to do next. I wanted to tell them that my next plan was to get off this beach and go in search of my lost mermaid, but Mom wouldn’t let me say that the mermaid was missing. Instead, she took over and made up a whole story that none of us discussed ahead of time.
“Naturally we are hoping to find more mermaids from whom we can study and learn. We’d like to know more about the way they think and feel. If they are organized into family structures or communities. We’d like to know how they communicate. When we have that information, we will then know if they are to be considered animals or people. Dr. Carl Schneider at the Marine Animal Rescue Center right here in Aberdeen has already begun research on the three mermaids found the other morning and I’m sure is making all kinds of amazing discoveries that could change the world.”
“Like what?” asked one reporter after another.
Each time my mom would look at me first before saying more, a small warning that I should not interrupt.
“I’m told that while being cleaned of oil, the mermaids were able to communicate pleasure at the touch of the cloth on their skin through smiling and expressing some kind of relief and gratitude. Clearly, they are not just oversized fish if they are able to express those kinds of emotions. These are creatures with hearts and minds, creatures that should have rights and be protected from environmental hazards, like Affron’s leaky oil vessels.”
The first time it flabbergasted me that she was giving all the credit to Dr. Schneider. When she kept repeating it over and over again, the lie burned right through me. Did she really hate me so much that she had to steer all the attention away from me and give it to that whiny scientist? He didn’t do anything with the mermaid except lose her. What was so wrong about admitting to the press that I was the one who discovered the mermaid had feelings and had tried to communicate with her? I sat beside Mom with my arms crossed and fumed. I didn’t care if the reporters noticed.
They did try to get me to talk. I was the story after all, not my mother. “Juniper Sawfeather, is this true about Dr. Carl Schneider’s work? Were you witness to this phenomenon after rescuing the mermaids from the oil spill?”
I didn’t want to lie to them, but my mom, ever the role model, nodded her head enthusiastically to insist that I agree with everything she said. So, I’d pull my lips tight into a fake grin and say, “I’m not the scientist. Dr. Schneider is, as my mother clearly explained to you. I’m just a teenage girl who did nothing but help get the mermaids to safety with my dad.” When pushed, I added, “I do think the mermaids have the ability to express emotion, though, because they looked genuinely stressed when I found them and not just in an animal panic way. They looked like they knew they were dying.”
It worked like Mom wanted. The reporters got all excited about what we were saying and stumbled off to put together their pieces with our juicy quotes about thinking, feeling mermaids living in the Pacific Ocean. After we went through our half-true story with a sixth reporter, I stole a moment to grab Mom’s arm before she could signal the next guy over.
“What are you doing?” I asked her, still holding her arm as I got up from my seat and crouched in front of her to keep the reporters from seeing my face as I talked. “Dr. Schneider doesn’t know anything about the mermaids. He didn’t clean the one and the other ones are dead. In fact, he told Carter and me he hadn’t managed to even take any pictures of them yet. He’s been less than useless.”
“That doesn’t matter,” my mom said, waving me off like an irritating fly. “It sounds better than it being your opinion.”
“Why? Because I’m just a kid? Because you don’t think my opinion’s worth anything?”
“Don’t take this personally,” my mom sighed agitatedly at me. “This isn’t about you.”
“It isn’t?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, June. You don’t have any degree, and we need something more authoritative than a high school student’s perspective to hold weight with the bigger presses. I’m sure Carl will back up all the statements we are making. It makes him look good.”
“No, it kind of doesn’t, Mom. Being that the mermaids aren’t there anymore, I don’t think that looks good at all. What if the reporters go over there?”
“Oh hush,” she said, looking right over my head. She waved over the next waiting reporter. “It’ll all be fine. You’ll see.” With a flick of her wrist, she gestured for me to return to my seat while she stood and shook hands with the guy from the Seattle Times.
“What can we do for you?” my mom asked him.
He turned to focus on me. “You can tell me something exclusive, that you haven’t shared with any other reporter today.”
“The only way I could do that would be to start making crap up,” I told him. I reached over and patted my mom on the shoulder pad of her raincoat. “I’m sure my mom can spin up something for you. It’s her specialty.” Then I lurched out of my seat and right out of our little interview station. I could hear my mom calling after me, trying to come across as the cool, calm mother she wishes she was and not have that crazy shrill she gets when we’re at home and I haven’t cleaned my room. I imagined her waving her hands around like she does and saying through a laugh, “June just needs a little break. She’s been at this all morning and that’s a lot for a girl her age. Why don’t you have a seat?”
She’s so together, even when she’s not. It made me want to puke.
As I strode across the sand, I vaguely noticed the people pointing at me and beginning to follow me. I think some of them were calling my name, but I didn’t respond to them at all. Out in the water, my dad looked up and frowned. I thought he might come to me, but he didn’t. I didn’t go to him either. I just wanted to get away for a minute, so I headed straight for the ramp that led up to where we parked the truck, my eyes on the ground so I wouldn’t slip like I had the other morning.
I was halfway up the ramp when five sets of shoes blocked my path. Two of the pairs were high heels, and I didn’t need to see who was attached to the skinny legs to know who was stupid enough to wear heels to a beach in the rain. With my eyes closed, I lifted my head and inhaled deeply before taking in the sight of Regina, Marlee, Ted, Gary, and Haley standing before me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” I asked with as little emotion as I could project.
Regina grinned madly. “Actually, Mrs. Slater sent us here to fetch you and bring you back. She said,” Regina imitated the Vice Principal’s voice “being interviewed for the news is not an excuse to be out of school.” All her friends laughed. Haley laughed too much and came across slightly mental. I shot her look that was supposed to get her to shut up, but she wasn’t paying attention to my cues anymore.
It was a good impersonation, actually. I had to give Regina that. It just didn’t strike my funny bone at the moment. “She sent all of you?”
“Mmmmm, no,” Regina hummed. “I kind of arranged for their release by getting Mrs. Clefton to agree to us doing a piece on you for the yearbook.”
“So, you’re all journalists now?” I pointed down at the flock around my mom. “Join the fun. I’m leaving.” I took a step up the hill, but five sets of hands reached out to stop me. “Let me go.”
Ted had a tight grip on my shoulder. “I just drove all the way out here. You aren’t leaving yet.”
“Besides you don’t have your own car,” Haley pointed out, prompting a snide chuckle from the Student Council rich kids. My old best friend wouldn’t have embarrassed me like that.
“We just want to take some pictures,” Regina said, gently leading me back down the hill to the sand. “And maybe be in a couple with you.”
I sighed. “If this whole thing is just so you can get on TV, it’s not going to work. They aren’t interested in you.”
“They would be if we found a mermaid,” Marlee said with a little giggle.
Okay, she’s too stupid to have come up with that thought. I studied their faces and tried to figure out what horrible plan they had hatched in the car on the way here. I noticed they had some duffel bags with them. Nothing weird about that. The bags could have towels and changes of clothes in them. That made sense. It’s what sensible people did when they went to the beach.
Except Marlee was turning her pumps over to get out the sand and whining about how dirty she was getting, and Gary kept running his fingers through his hair to try to keep his hair up despite the fact that the drizzle had already washed away most of his gel. These were not sensible people. Plus, Haley was suddenly avoiding my eyes, and all of them were looking around at the people on the beach and not out at the water, which would have been more natural if they were really there to watch for mermaids.
“There aren’t any bathrooms here,” Ted said. “What kind of beach is this?”
“A small one,” I answered. “There’s a restroom up at the campground.”
Gary nudged Regina, “That won’t work.”
I reached out and snagged the bag off Haley’s shoulder, and before she could get her hands on it, I had it unzipped with the contents spilling out onto the sand. Costume make-up, a bald cap, some silver material...
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!” I shouted. “Really? You were going to dress up like a mermaid? Did you really think you could pull that off?”
Haley dropped to her knees and frantically shoved everything back in the bag, her eyes darting around hoping none of the reporters were looking. “It wasn’t supposed to look real,” she muttered. “It was supposed to look like a hoax.”
Gary grinned his Student Council V.P. winning grin at me. “Come on. It would’ve been fun to get everyone all riled up out here.”
“It would make everything that my parents and I are doing look stupid,” I said. “You guys need to leave.”
Regina put up her hands. “Okay, okay, June. We won’t do the mermaid costume thing. It was kind of a lame idea anyway.” She shot a look at Gary to make sure he got credit for thinking of it instead of her. He shrugged like he didn’t care. “Just let us hang around for a while. Okay?”
“Do whatever you want,” I said, moving back toward the ramp. “I’m done here.”
“June,” Regina called after me.
At the same exact moment Marlee screamed, “Mermaid!!!!”
I spun around fast. “Regina, tell her to shut up. You aren’t doing the trick. Obviously, she didn’t get what we were all just saying.”
“But there’s really a mermaid!” Marlee shouted, pointing straight out at the ocean. “Look!!! Mermaid!!!!”
Her shouting caught the attention of all the people nearby. The crowd pushed toward the water’s edge, shouting and pointing.
“Marlee!” I yelled through gritted teeth. “Cut it out! Look what you’re doing!”
“No, June,” Haley said, yanking my arm and pulling me to the water’s edge. “She’s right. Look.”
Haley pointed out toward the buoys. Sure enough, I saw a silver tail flipping around in the water like the creature was stuck. Enough of the long, slender body was out of the water to reveal the absence of a dorsal fin so it couldn’t have been a dolphin, and it was too large to be a fish.
Regina stepped up and patted me on the back. “How’s that for timing, huh?”
I brushed her hand away and grumbled, “Fantastic.”