To Catch a Mermaid by Suzanne Selfors Page A

Winginghams’ house. The Winginghams ate stuff like roasted chicken and cheesy potatoes, the kind of food Boom’s mother used to make.
    “So sorry to hear about the tournament,” she said.
    “I’m going to demand a rematch on Monday,” Boom confidently assured her.
    “That’s nice.” Winger’s mom smiled and handed each of the boys a sprinkle-covered doughnut. She made her own doughnuts and her own sprinkles. She embroidered Winger’s initials on almost everything he wore. She canned things that she grew herself. She was like a time-warp mom and she smelled nice and powdery.
    “Stay on the sidewalk,” she called after them.
    Winger unzipped his coat as soon as they rounded the corner. “So? What did you want to tell me?”
    Boom pulled Winger close so that they almost touched noses. “I found a merbaby!” he blurted. Really, there was no other way to say it because it just plain sounded crazy.
    “Huh?” Sugar sprinkles clung to Winger’s lips. “A mer-what?”
    “I found a baby mermaid, or a merboy, we’re not sure.” He looked around, but no one was in earshot. “You know, half fish, half baby. A merbaby.”
    Winger smiled. “You expect me to believe that?”
    Of course Boom didn’t expect him to believe it, not at first. Winger was no fool. Boom tried to explain. “The fisherman caught it in his net and since it was all covered in sea grass, which is actually its hair, he didn’t notice what it was. It’s superugly and it has green skin and tons of sharp teeth. It growls and cries and bites, and it smells like mud. It ate Ted the Goldfish.” Boom spoke so fast his tongue felt heavy. Winger looked at him as though he were looking at someone who was demented. “Have I ever lied to you?”
    As a matter of fact, Boom had lied to Winger on many occasions — about the alien spaceship that had supposedly landed in the field, about the shark he had supposedly fought in the Fairweather public swimming pool, and about the vampire that supposedly lurked beneath Winger’s bedroom window. But that was when they were little, before they’d become best friends. “It’s not a lie. It’s on Mertyle’s bed right now.”
    “Maybe you found
something,
” Winger said with a shrug. “But no way is it a merbaby. Maybe it’s an iguana.”
    “It’s not.”
    “Maybe it’s a parrot fish. They have really strange faces.”
    “It’s a merbaby,” Boom said. “I swear on my life.”
    Winger folded his arms. “Swear on your kicking foot.”
    “Okay. I swear on my kicking foot.” Boom placed his hand on his heart, then touched his right foot with that same hand. That seemed to be enough, because Winger adjusted his glasses and smiled.
    “When can I see it?”
    “I’ll show it to you right after we go to the dock. I’ve got to buy it more food so it won’t start shrieking again.”
    Boom took the lead, charging up the sidewalk with Winger at his heels. They rushed past Mr. Jorgenson’s house. Duct tape now held the front window together. Boom couldn’t pay for the window, so he had offered to work to pay off the debt. He had agreed to work in Mr. Jorgenson’s garage at eleven that morning. That could prove problematic, considering the new addition to the Broom household.
    “Maybe it’s a giant eel.”
    “It’s not a giant eel.”
    The road became steeper as it dropped down into the harbor. Just past the closed fish market, Boom could see the long public dock, but it was empty of boats. There didn’t appear to be any people around either. He started to feel the pangs of disappointment, until he noticed that the bucket still sat at the end of the dock. “That’s the reject seafood bucket,” he explained to Winger. “We can take anything we want from it. It’s all free.”
    They rushed down the dock, but the bucket was empty, except for a large white shell with a pink interior. “Hey, that’s a conch shell,” Winger said.
    Boom picked it up. An icy feeling crept over him, like a ghost