— it was humid, like a tropical paradise. And that’s what Mertyle had said, that she didn’t want to be cold anymore. She lifted her face to the sun’s rays. “It’s so warm. It feels so nice. Won’t Mom just love this bathroom?”
Mom is gone,
Boom wanted to say. He buried his sneakers in the sand, watching as Mertyle dug for shells. She had retreated from everything. The girl who used to get good grades at school, who used to have friends, who used to ride her bike up and down the sidewalk, that girl would have understood that dead and gone was forever.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, holding up a black-striped shell. It was beautiful. The whole room was beautiful, and all the result of a wish.
“Mertyle, don’t you realize what’s happening?” Boom asked.
She scratched her arm. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Broom poked his head through the banana-tree hole. “Call the National Guard,” he cried. “This unseasonably warm weather is sure to bring another twister!” Then he disappeared again.
“Look outside, Mertyle. There are corn husks in the field, boxes of cod fillets in the Mumps’ truck, and the bathroom isn’t cold anymore. You wished for all those things.”
“I did?” She started scratching her other arm.
“And you wished for a pink house with rainbow flowers that looks exactly like the house in your painting, didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess I did. I showed the baby my drawing. But I never thought . . .”
Boom Broom wanted some answers and he wanted them now. He ran into the bedroom and grabbed the leatherbound Viking book that was already open to the section on merfolk. He needed to figure out just how many wishes a person could get from a merbaby. Genies grant only three wishes, and everyone knows that one of those wishes cannot be, “I want more wishes.” In fairy tales there’s always a limit to wishes, and if that were true with merfolk as well, then Mertyle was wasting hers. A tropical bathroom, a pink house — wishes from a totally deranged mind. If she got only a few more, then Boom had to make sure she used them better.
The merfolk section had a drawing of a thing that looked similar to the creature that swam in their tub, only older. Boom searched the page until he found exactly what he wanted. He read:
Vikings believed that mermaids would grant wishes if they deemed the wisher worthy.
Deemed the wisher worthy? What made Mertyle worthier than Boom? He kept reading:
Only the mermaid has the ability to grant wishes. While mermen possess superior strength and endurance, they are incapable of conjuring magic.
“It’s a girl,” he announced, carrying the book into the bathroom. Mertyle was scratching her back against some coral. An eel dangled from the baby’s fangs.
“How do you know?”
“It says so, right here.”
But before he could show Mertyle the book, someone started yelling in the street. Boom opened the bathroom window and peered out. Mr. Mump and Hurley stood below, each holding an armful of bananas. The tip of the banana tree had burst through the Brooms’ roof and was leaning over the street.
“Hey, Broom!” Mr. Mump called. “This is a code violation! The neighborhood association never agreed that you could plant a banana tree. And we never agreed that you could paint your house pink. There’s gonna be a fine for this, Broom!” He said all that while gathering bananas as fast as he could and loading them into the back of his truck. Just like with the corn and the cod fillets, just like with the title of Fairweather Kick the Ball Against the Wall Champion, the Mumps continued to take other people’s things.
“Those don’t belong to you!” Boom cried out the window. Hurley looked up.
“What are you gonna do about it?” Hurley challenged.
“That’s the right attitude, Son,” Mr. Mump said, patting his boy on the back. “Protect what is yours.”
“You’ll see,” Boom yelled. He couldn’t stop himself. He
Mom is gone,
Boom wanted to say. He buried his sneakers in the sand, watching as Mertyle dug for shells. She had retreated from everything. The girl who used to get good grades at school, who used to have friends, who used to ride her bike up and down the sidewalk, that girl would have understood that dead and gone was forever.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, holding up a black-striped shell. It was beautiful. The whole room was beautiful, and all the result of a wish.
“Mertyle, don’t you realize what’s happening?” Boom asked.
She scratched her arm. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Broom poked his head through the banana-tree hole. “Call the National Guard,” he cried. “This unseasonably warm weather is sure to bring another twister!” Then he disappeared again.
“Look outside, Mertyle. There are corn husks in the field, boxes of cod fillets in the Mumps’ truck, and the bathroom isn’t cold anymore. You wished for all those things.”
“I did?” She started scratching her other arm.
“And you wished for a pink house with rainbow flowers that looks exactly like the house in your painting, didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess I did. I showed the baby my drawing. But I never thought . . .”
Boom Broom wanted some answers and he wanted them now. He ran into the bedroom and grabbed the leatherbound Viking book that was already open to the section on merfolk. He needed to figure out just how many wishes a person could get from a merbaby. Genies grant only three wishes, and everyone knows that one of those wishes cannot be, “I want more wishes.” In fairy tales there’s always a limit to wishes, and if that were true with merfolk as well, then Mertyle was wasting hers. A tropical bathroom, a pink house — wishes from a totally deranged mind. If she got only a few more, then Boom had to make sure she used them better.
The merfolk section had a drawing of a thing that looked similar to the creature that swam in their tub, only older. Boom searched the page until he found exactly what he wanted. He read:
Vikings believed that mermaids would grant wishes if they deemed the wisher worthy.
Deemed the wisher worthy? What made Mertyle worthier than Boom? He kept reading:
Only the mermaid has the ability to grant wishes. While mermen possess superior strength and endurance, they are incapable of conjuring magic.
“It’s a girl,” he announced, carrying the book into the bathroom. Mertyle was scratching her back against some coral. An eel dangled from the baby’s fangs.
“How do you know?”
“It says so, right here.”
But before he could show Mertyle the book, someone started yelling in the street. Boom opened the bathroom window and peered out. Mr. Mump and Hurley stood below, each holding an armful of bananas. The tip of the banana tree had burst through the Brooms’ roof and was leaning over the street.
“Hey, Broom!” Mr. Mump called. “This is a code violation! The neighborhood association never agreed that you could plant a banana tree. And we never agreed that you could paint your house pink. There’s gonna be a fine for this, Broom!” He said all that while gathering bananas as fast as he could and loading them into the back of his truck. Just like with the corn and the cod fillets, just like with the title of Fairweather Kick the Ball Against the Wall Champion, the Mumps continued to take other people’s things.
“Those don’t belong to you!” Boom cried out the window. Hurley looked up.
“What are you gonna do about it?” Hurley challenged.
“That’s the right attitude, Son,” Mr. Mump said, patting his boy on the back. “Protect what is yours.”
“You’ll see,” Boom yelled. He couldn’t stop himself. He
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