The Dragon in the Sea by Kate Klimo Page A

Yar—they think it’s dangerous to leave the vessel—but I go out all the time … when I’m off duty, mind you.”
    “You go out? Really? Where?” Jesse asked.
    “I go up top,” she said with an impish twinkle in her eye.
    “Up top?” Jesse and Daisy echoed.
    “You know. To the surface, where you’re from,” she said. “I’ve even made friends with a boy and girl. We ride the surf together. They do it on boards but I just use my tail. It’s totally radical and gnarly, dude!”
    Jesse and Daisy shared a look of surprise. “Reef and Coral!” they exclaimed.
    “You know my boy and girl?” Star asked. “Oh, I do think they are the nicest children anyone ever could meet. I get sad when their parents call them in. I would so love to follow them up onto the beach, but without legs, I can’t. Tell me,” she asked wistfully, “what’s it like to have legs? Is it better than having a tail?”
    Jesse thought of how it felt to run and jump and kick his heels. He thought of his one full day with a fish’s tail. Legs or tails? A tail was great but it narrowed your options. When you had legs, you could be on the land
and
swim in the water. With a tail you were stuck forever in the water. He remembered how helpless he had felt on the beach in front of the Driftwoods’ shack this afternoon and suddenly found himself feeling a little sorry for Star. So he shrugged and said, “Legs are okay, I guess. But tails are more fun.”
    “Really?” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
    “Really!” Daisy said, clasping Star’s hand. “I’ve never had so much fun as I’ve had today, swimming around with this tail. It’s beautiful under the sea. Weightless and free. I
love
it!”
    The portals had dwindled down to plain lacquered doors. It was darker, too, and Star had to use the conch lantern to light the way.
    Jesse asked, “What makes that shell light up like that?”
    Star stopped and turned, the lantern shedding a golden halo of light in the dark passageway. “It’s the phosphairies. See?” She held out the shell.
    Jesse and Daisy peered inside. A ring of glowing miniature merfolk with tails and finny wings swam in a bright circle inside.
    “Nifty,” said Jesse. “I mean, gnarly.”
    When they arrived at their cabin, they found two conch shells lying on either side of the door. Star bent down and shook some of the phosphairies into them, handing one each to Jesse and Daisy.
    “Brekkie is at six bells. Sleep well,” said Star as she swam off down the corridor.
    “Wake me up if I sleep through brekkie bells,” Jesse mumbled to Daisy as they swam into their cabin.
    “I like Star,” said Daisy.
    “I like her, too,” said Jesse. “And she likes Reef and Coral. After what happened this afternoon, I wasn’t so sure about their mom, but I’m thinking maybe my first impression was right about her, too.”
    “Jess, what in Sam Hill are you
talking
about?” Daisy asked.
    Jesse removed from his sweatshirt pouch the softball he had picked up in the Lost and Foundand placed it next to his phosphairy lantern on the bunk-side table. “You know how you didn’t much like the Driftwoods when we first met them? Well, I saw them again today, and I tell you, the mother acted like a
witch
,” he said, pulling up his seaweed blanket and yawning. “But now I’m thinking maybe she isn’t so bad, after all. Maybe she was trying to tell me something. How do you make this lantern go out?”
    Daisy said, “Try blowing on it. What’s this about seeing the Driftwoods, Jess? I didn’t see them. Tell me what’s going on.”
    Jesse blew lightly on his conch shell, and sure enough, the phosphairies extinguished their light. He lay back and closed his eyes. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. I’m too tired to talk right now. I need to …” And just like that, Jesse fell fast asleep.
    Daisy was tired, too, but Jesse had gotten her mind churning with all his