To Catch a Mermaid

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Authors: Suzanne Selfors
Tags: JUV000000
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    Boom wiped a dribble of drool from his lip. “Do you think someone would pay one hundred and twenty-five dollars to see the merbaby?” he asked Winger, who had also pressed his face against the glass.
    “Totally.”
    “Because the problem is that I promised Mertyle not to tell anyone about the baby. She thinks that scientists will take it away and experiment on it.”
    Winger nodded. “She’s probably right. I hadn’t thought of that. They might even stick it in quarantine, like when my dog ate a bat that had rabies.”
    There had to be some way to make this work. “But if we sold just a few tickets to people who promised to keep it a secret, then I could get a pair of Galactic Kickers.” And even help pay the bills around the house and pay the mortgage so they wouldn’t have to move. And buy some decent food.
    “You boys gonna buy something?” Mr. Nord, the shopkeeper, asked.
    “No, thank you,” Boom said, taking a step back.
    “How’s your father doing?” Mr. Nord asked Boom. “I haven’t seen him at the coffee shop since . . .” An uncomfortable silence followed as Mr. Nord noticed the hole in Boom’s sneaker. His gaze traveled across Boom, and an undeniable look of pity settled on his face as he took in the fact that Boom’s clothes were too small, and that his hair hadn’t been washed. “Everything okay at home, Boom?”
    “Fine,” Boom answered loudly. “Dad’s busy painting.” Boom knew what could happen if anyone in town began to suspect neglect. The family could be broken up — Mertyle sent off to some foster home in Timbuktu, and Boom could end up in a town where no one even knew how to play Kick the Ball Against the Wall. That would appeal to the universe — part of its grand plan. He’d have to start taking better care of himself. And buy some new clothes with the merbaby money.
    Mr. Nord nodded. “It always helps to keep busy. Give him my best.” He went back inside.
    Boom sighed with relief. “Come on. We’ve got to get to that pet store.”
    The pet store sat between the Fairweather Public Library and Bula’s Beauty Salon. The window blinds were drawn and a sign on the door read: CLOSED TODAY DUE TO A HEAD COLD.
    “What?” Boom cried. “They can’t be closed.”
    “Ms. Kibble lives in back,” Winger said, pointing down the alley. She owned the pet store. “We could go knock on her door.”
    Empty pet food crates lined the alley. Boom had to step over three sleeping cats and a family of rabbits to get to Ms. Kibble’s back door. He knocked as loudly and as rapidly as he could because he figured the faster he knocked, the faster someone would respond.
    It worked. The door opened right away and Ms. Kibble stuck her pale face out. “Yes?” she asked, dabbing her nose with a tissue. She wore a flannel bathrobe with cat hair on every square inch. A little blob of bird poop perched on her right shoulder, and a gerbil peeked out of her breast pocket.
    “Please, Ms. Kibble. I need some goldfish right away.”
    “My store is closed. I’m sick.” She dabbed again.
    “It’s really important,” Boom pleaded.
    “And why is that? What are you boys up to?” She peered over the top of her thick fish-shaped glasses.
    “We’re not up to anything,” Boom lied, trying to smile sweetly.
    “We’re
not
going to feed them to anyone,” Winger blurted. He looked down at his feet, shuffling in place like he had to pee. Lying had always been difficult for Winger.
    Boom stepped in front of his friend. “Don’t listen to him. We just need some goldfish.”
    “I know what boys do to helpless little creatures,” Ms. Kibble snarled. She blew her nose, real hard. The blow shook the gerbil like an earthquake, and it disappeared back inside the pocket. “Why, just the other day I caught that horrid Hurley Mump throwing rocks at a squirrel. Squirrels have feelings, and goldfish have feelings too. Oh yes, they do. They have

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