Chapter 6
For the second time in two days, Fenton went home soaking wet. This time, he worried about getting his mother's car wet but was glad that he still had the blanket that Louie had given him—although he resolved to return it soon. He drove home with the heat turned up as high as he could, and he was still shivering.
When he got home, his mother was back from her shift and eating take-out on the couch while watching one of her shows. When she saw him looking so bedraggled, she rushed to him.
"Patito, you're drenched. What happened?"
"Uh, I went walking along the beach and got caught in the storm," Fenton said, quickly coming up with a believable lie.
"Goodness. You're freezing," Maria said, touching his hand. "You get in the bath right now and you soak until you are feeling better. I hope you don't get sick."
Fenton didn't remind his mother that he was no longer eight, but he complied, thinking that a bath sounded good right now. He had a lot he wanted to think about.
Once he was surrounded by hot water and feeling the chill leaving his bones, he went through the day's events once more, repeating questions over and over again. But the only one that he had any possible chance of being solving that day was the pearl.
He held it up to the light, marveling on the beauty of it. He knew how pearls were formed, and the process was amazing. For a pearl this size for an oyster to make must have taken a long time. The luster, the shape, the color, he couldn't imagine how much a pearl like this would cost on the market. He really couldn't because he didn't know how much pearls cost, but he understood that it was a lot. But he was sure that the mermaid hadn't given him the pearl to sell it.
Then why?
She had tried to put it in his mouth. Was it magic? Did it do something if he did? Maybe it really wasn't a pearl and it would dissolve in his mouth.
But when Fenton tested his theory, nothing happened. It just sat on his tongue. He rolled it around. He moved around in the tub, seeing if his next theory was correct: that he would turn into a merman. But no, he still had two feet. Maybe it only worked in sea water. Or perhaps he had to swallow it, but he didn't like that idea because if he was wrong, it would be a while before he would get the pearl back.
Perhaps the pearl would help him breath under water. Curious, he ducked down, automatically holding his breath. And then he sat there, realizing the flaw in his plan. If he wanted to test his hypothesis, he would have to take a breath while under the water. For a few seconds, he waited, screwing up his bravery until he sucked in a little through his nostrils.
Immediately he knew that he was wrong, and sat up coughing and spluttering, the pearl falling out of his mouth in the process. After he had regained his composure, he felt around for the pearl, finding it close to the plug.
So, as far as he could tell, it was just an ordinary pearl. But he had a hard time believing that was true. There had to be something special about it. A mermaid gave it to him, so it must be special. If he only knew why. If only he was able to spend more time with the mermaid, he could have found a way to communicate with her, to find out why she was there. He had so many questions for her, to know more about her and her people.
If he could, he was willing to go back out to the Singing Rocks and look for her, although he would have to find a way to get there on his own. She obviously wasn't going to appear if someone else was there. But how could he get there? Even if he had the money to rent a boat—which he didn't—he didn't know how to sail. And if he learned anything that day, it was that the ocean was filled with unpredictable circumstances.
Laying back again, Fenton gazed at the pearl, feeling as if he had taken on a heavy weight. There were so many mysteries related to Duckburg, and it appeared he was the only one asking these questions and looking for the answers.
And he had only one more day before he had to return to work.
The next day, Fenton began to plan on how he was going to return to the Singing Rocks. Now that he was entirely out of money, he searched through his things that he could sell at a pawn shop. He wished he had collected something when he was young, like baseball cards or comic books. He had a rock collection, but nothing beyond what he found in tourist shops or on road trips that he had polished in his rock tumbler. He didn't even own any movies or CDs. Most of his entertainment he downloaded onto his computer or phone. If he wanted to see something that wasn't streaming or on TV, he would buy the digital download.
He was pretty much a minimalist, but only because physical items didn't have much of a hold on him. Growing up with a single mother's paycheck, he had learned to do without luxuries and only asked for necessities. Knowledge was his greatest possession, something that not even the wealthy could buy but could only be attained through studying.
After going through his whole room, he concluded he had nothing of value except his phone and laptop, two things he couldn't sell since his mother had bought both when he went off to college, and it wasn't like anyone would pay that much for either, both older models.
And that meant that he was unlikely to be able to rent a boat to take to the Singing Rocks. He could try swimming out there, but he wasn't much of a swimmer. Even if he was able to navigate directly to the spot in the ocean, he wasn't sure if he could make it even if the ocean was calm.
He sat on his computer chair, sighing. What else could he do? He reached into his pocket for the pearl, feeling its smooth, roundness. He needed to know more. There was a reason for all of this happening to him, and he couldn't just sit around and wait. At least he would be able to talk to Della tonight at five at the lighthouse. But what else could he do until then?
"Hey, Patito, you ready to go?" Maria called, knocking on his door.
"Huh? Go where?" Fenton asked, sitting up.
"Out to lunch, remember?" his mother said, giving him a smirk. She was used to him forgetting things. She had often compared him to the absent-minded professor from one of those old films she grew up watching.
"Oh, right," Fenton said, recalling his mother making plans for them several days ago. "I'm ready." He slipped the pearl back in his pocket. He didn't want to leave it behind in case he needed it or it did something. His imagination had come up with several new ideas as to what the pearl could do while he was trying to fall asleep last night. It was a two-way communicator. It was a translator. It would show him the way to the mermaid. It protected him from bad things. It caused bad things—this one kept him from falling asleep way too much. There were so many possibilities.
"You might want a raincoat," Maria said. "That storm is still raging."
Fenton had been too lost in his own world to have noticed until then. It wouldn't matter if he had money or not; he wouldn't have been getting a boat out to the Singing Rocks in this weather.
When they walked out of the house, they ran through a wall of rain and wind that made them almost change their mind about going out that day. But they made it to Maria's car and headed out despite the storm.
"Whoa, Fenton. You must have been soaking wet yesterday," Maria said, half-standing when she sat in the driver's seat. "The seat is still damp."
"Sorry, Mama," Fenton said. He would have tried to dry off the seat better if he remembered about going out to lunch with her.
Maria took them downtown, not even asking which restaurant they should go to. She had long ago stopped asking since Fenton rarely cared about what food they ate. He liked practically everything and brought a healthy appetite wherever they went. The car pulled into a café that they regularly went to that served mostly soups and sandwiches.
Once at their table and the waiter gave them water and menus, Maria turned to her son.
"You have been one distracted boy lately," she said, glancing down the menu even though it wasn't necessary. She knew exactly what she wanted, always did.
"Why would you say that?" Fenton asked, setting down his menu. He could have closed his eyes and pointed to any item on the menu and would have been happy with what they brought him. But he scrutinized the different items.
"You have hardly talked to me these past few days," Maria said. "These past two nights, you went to bed early and didn't watch TV with me. You were even quiet in the car as we drove here. Usually you're chatting about Dr. Gearloose and whatever the two of you mad scientists are building or some new discovery from whatever article you read last. Is something going on?"
"Uh…no, nothing's going on," Fenton said, his eyes darting to the side. He could lie pretty well to almost anyone but his mom. For some reason, the idea of lying to her scared him to death.
"Mmm-hmmm," Maria hummed, not buying it. "It's almost as if you're hiding something from me."
Boy, was he hiding something from her. He hadn't intended to keep everything from her. In fact, he had intended to reveal everything to his mother once he had done enough investigating. But now, he wasn't so sure. Donald's warning from the day before had set him on edge. He had no intention of heeding the warning and was determined to find the truth, but he did not want to get his mother involved. Right now, it was best that she not know anything about the mermaid or what he was doing.
That is…if she didn't wheedle it out of him.
"I guess I'm just having an off week," Fenton said, forcing himself to relax. Play it cool. Don't talk too much. Breathe easily.
But Maria still wasn't buying it. She scrutinized him with narrowed eyes, even as the waiter came by and asked for their order. He did so quickly, sensing the tension, then ran off while he could.
Fenton was starting to feel the pressure of his mother's glare and tried to sip his water as calmly as he could to throw her off the scent.
"I know what it is," Maria announced, her beak curving upward. "You met a girl."
Fenton inhaled the water he was drinking, spitting and coughing as he gasped for air. "Mama!" he exclaimed out of protest. "No, I haven't."
Maria leaned back in her chair, satisfied. Apparently his protest had only confirmed her suspicion. "You don't have to keep it from me. Now, tell me all about her. What is she like? How did you two meet?"
Fenton grabbed a few napkins to clean up the water mess. "Mama, there is no girl. I haven't met anyone." He hadn't thought that this was a lie until his mind focused on the mermaid. Thinking about her, how much he wanted to get to know her, he felt his cheeks warming. But—but his interest in her was solely scientific. Wasn't it?
"There. Now you're thinking about her," Maria said. "I can tell. You can't hide anything from me."
He knew that his mother was a crack investigator. It was one of the reasons she made detective so quickly once she joined the force. And like a dog with a bone, she wasn't going to let this go.
But what could he tell her? Yes, he was interested in a girl, but they only met face-to-face twice, never talked, he didn't know her name, oh, and also she was a nude, half-fish mermaid. Even if his mother believed him, there was bound to be problems.
"What's her name?" his mother tried again.
Well, if his mother insisted on this being true, he might as well give her some information.
"I—I actually don't know her name," Fenton said, playing with his water glass. "I've only seen her a few times. Along the beach." True enough.
Maria smiled broadly, a sparkle lighting up her eyes. "Ah, and you haven't been able to talk to her, am I right?"
"Well, not really," Fenton said, twisting the scenario to give his mother a story she wanted to hear. Despite her tough exterior and her career, she was a romantic at heart. "I want to talk to her, but I just haven't gotten the opportunity."
"Oh, Patito, you just need to go to her and introduce yourself," Maria said, taking his hand. "She'll quickly see how wonderful you are."
"Mama," Fenton said, feeling embarrassed. It felt as if he were sixteen again, and she was telling him how to behave for prom.
"Is that why you came home soaking wet yesterday? You were looking for her at the beach?" Maria guessed.
"Yeah, I was," Fenton said, not mentioning that he had found her. But he needed to play out this story for his mother.
Maria put her elbows on the table, leaning in. "What does she look like?"
Fenton smiled, more because of his mother's interest, but his smile broadened as he thought of the mermaid. "She's beautiful. She has these large eyes as if she's trying to take everything in. And her hair… Her feathers… I've never seen anyone like her before." His heart beat harder in his chest, almost as if he really was smitten with the mermaid. Perhaps he was a little.
"So what are you going to do?" Maria asked.
"Huh?"
"You need to find this girl," Maria said, her get-it-done attitude coming out. "How are you going to find her? Tell you what, give me a physical description and I'll have the guys at the precinct keep an eye out for her."
"No!" Fenton yelped, loud enough for many people around him to glare his way. "No. Please, Mama, don't do anything. I—I'm going to meet someone today who might know who she is."
"Who?"
"Someone who works at the lighthouse," Fenton said. Things were going so fast and he told his mother far too much. Maria was too involved in his fake romance that it was going to be tough to veer her away from the subject. He would have to later figure out a story about meeting a girl and getting turned down.
"Oh, this is so exciting," Maria said, looking as if she were falling in love herself. "I don't think you've ever been interested in a girl like this before."
Fenton was glad that the waiter brought them their food at that point because if he had to talk about his love life—or lack thereof—any more, he might sigh himself to death. But his mother was right; although she didn't know his full romantic history. He had gone to a few dances in high school, but never the same girl. In college, he focused on his studies but a few times he had dated some girls. He had called a couple of them his girlfriend when things turned serious, but it turned out he was interested in a relationship more than they were. After having his heart broken twice, it was easier to concentrate on his classes. It was also a time of his life he wasn't going to tell his mother, a secret she had not managed to get out of him.
"Fenton, I feel so happy for you," Maria said once they were halfway through their meal.
"Mama, I don't even know her name," Fenton protested.
"Oh, I know, Patito, but I'm glad that you're finally stepping out of your comfort zone," Maria said. "I just don't want you to turn into one of those forever bachelors that live with their mothers all their life. Eventually I'm going to turn your room into an art studio where I can paint when I'm retired."
Fenton smiled. "Yes, Mama."