A Friendly Town That's Almost Always by the Ocean! Read online

  “There’ll be a Severely Low Tide all week,” Ms. Grimalkin announced, adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses. “Which means it’s the perfect time to study tide pools.”

  Studying the ocean all week? Talise was thrilled!

  Well, as thrilled as Talise ever was. As usual, it was hard to tell from the outside, but she definitely felt thrilled on the inside.

  The rest of the class was thrilled on the outside. They skipped and laughed during their walk to the beach, which didn’t take long. Seagulls dipped and cawed overhead, and rock cats glowered from their perches. Talise didn’t pay them any attention, though. The ocean was all she cared about.

  Ms. Grimalkin passed out identification guides. “Now everybody pick a tide pool to monitor for the week,” she said. “There should be exactly enough for everyone in the class.”

  Everybody scampered toward the tide pools.

  “I pick this one!” Jules yelled.

  “No fair, I wanted that one.” Nia pouted, then perked up. “Wait, this one’s even better.”

  “No it’s not,” Jules said. “Is it?”

  “Ooh, this tide pool is shaped like a heart,” Runa said. “Finn! Come get the one beside mine—it looks like a lung. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s breathing….”

  Talise was excited to pick out her tide pool, too, even if it didn’t show on the outside. But she needed to put on all her equipment beforehand.

  First, she pulled on her wet suit, flippers, and mask. Next, she strapped on her air tank, regulator, and buoyancy vest. Last of all, she grabbed her depth gauge, underwater compass, and waterproof notebook.

  “Talise, what are you doing?” Ms. Grimalkin asked.

  “Blurp blop bloop?” Talise replied.

  “What?”

  Talise spit out her regulator. “I said, I thought we were monitoring tide pools?”

  “Yes, but you’ll be observing them from the outside, not the inside. You don’t need an air tank for that.”

  “Drat,” Talise said.

  By the time Talise had put away her wet suit, flippers, mask, air tank, regulator, buoyancy vest, depth gauge, underwater compass, and waterproof notebook, there was only one tide pool left unclaimed. She hurried over to it and peered inside.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Grimalkin?” Talise said.

  “Yes?”

  “There appears to be nothing in my tide pool.”

  “That can’t be true. I checked them all this morning.” Ms. Grimalkin came over and pointed. “See? There’s a creature right there.”

  Talise squinted. Sure enough, she spotted a weird, slimy lump wedged under a lip of stone. It was the most unattractive thing she’d ever seen. And Talise had seen her share of unattractive things. A rotting stonefish. A giant spiderweb filled with crabs. Her dad before coffee.

  With a sigh, Talise skimmed her identification guide, trying to locate the slimy, lumpy creature. Sea cucumber was close. Sea slug was closer, but still not quite right.

  “Hmm,” she said.

  Then, at the very bottom of the page, she recognized it.

  SEA BLOB

  “A sea blob?” Talise said, feeling dismayed. “That’s the worst thing.”

  The list of sea-blob characteristics was even less inspiring:

  Diet: mud.

  Size: medium.

  Color: medium.

  Personality: none.

  Talise glanced around at her classmates. They were all peering into their tide pools with grins on their faces. Each of them was thrilled on the outside.

  “One of my fish just did a backflip!” Jules exclaimed.

  “One of mine did a double backflip!” Nia exclaimed even louder.

  “Anybody want to trade?” Talise asked.

  Nobody replied. Resigned, Talise turned back to her own tide pool. The sea blob was pulsating slowly. Pulsating, she wrote in her notebook. Blobby.

  “Am I allowed to poke it?” she asked Ms. Grimalkin.

  “No,” Ms. Grimalkin said.

  Talise frowned at the sea blob. It frowned back at her. But maybe that was just the way its face looked? She wondered if her face always had the same expression, too. She tried smiling at the blob. It frowned back at her.

  The next day, Talise was the first kid to the beach. She ran right to the tide pool beside hers, sat down, and crossed her legs.

  “Well, this is a positive turn of events,” she declared. “My tide pool is a whole lot more interesting today. Sea stars. Psychedelic eels. All kinds of anemones, wow.”

  “That’s because it’s my tide pool,” Quincy said.

  “Do you have any proof?” Talise asked.

  Quincy opened his notebook, where he’d written:

  Sea stars

  Psychedelic eels

  All kinds of anemones, wow

  “Drat,” Talise said. She trudged over to her own tide pool, where the sea blob waited. She sat down, staring at it.

  Nothing happened.

  Talise decided to try talking to it. “Greetings, Sea Blob,” she said. “My name is Talise. Would it be possible for you to do something? Anything? A tiny little backflip, perhaps. Or even just a quick lap around the pool…?”

  The sea blob pulsated. Talise assumed that meant no.

  “Here’s my concern,” she went on. “I really need to get an A. Science is the only subject I’m good at, besides math. In fact, I’m superlative at science. Quite possibly the best in the entire class. But if I fail this project…then I won’t be.”

  The sea blob didn’t reply.

  Talise continued. “I’m already doing so poorly in English. And social studies. And art. Which shouldn’t even be an official subject, if you ask me—”

  “Hey!” Runa exclaimed.

  “Whoops, sorry.” Talise lowered her voice. “If I could, I’d be down there all the time. Like you get to, huh? It must be nice to be a sea blob.”

  She looked at the sea blob.

  “I take it back,” she said.

  “Are you talking to your tide pool?” Quincy asked.

  On the inside, Talise felt slightly embarrassed. “Only a little.”

  “Great idea!” Quincy leaned over his tide pool. “Hi there, all you funny little sea thingies. How are you doing?” He giggled. “Hey, they all started blowing bubbles! Do you think they actually hear me? This is so much fun!”

  Talise sighed.

  The next day, she shuffled to her tide pool with her hands in her pockets. The sea blob still hadn’t moved. Its slimy coating had shifted a bit, but that was all.

  Talise’s insides started to feel angry.

  Stupid slimy sea blob! The most boring creature in all the ocean! Science was the only subject Talise loved, and now she was going to get a big, fat F on this project! A project about the ocean! Her parents would never understand that it was all the sea blob’s fault!

  She glanced around. Nobody was looking. They were all watching their own tide pools. Ms. Grimalkin was standing beside Quincy. “Your fish look so delicious,” she told him. “Oops—I meant delightful.”

  Talise took a deep breath.

  Then she reached into her tide pool and poked the sea blob as hard as she could.

  SQUEAK!

  The rest of the slime fell away, revealing a rubber duck.

  “Oh, come on,” Talise said with a groan.

  All the other kids crowded around Talise’s tide pool to look. “Are its painted eyes rubbed off?” Jules asked, covering her own eyes.

  “They are!” Nia exclaimed. “Thank goodness.”

  “Anybody have a bucket?” Quincy asked.

  “I do in my desk,” Runa said. “Want me to run back and get it?”

  “Thank you, Runa, that would be very helpful.” Ms. Grimalkin patted Talise on the shoulder. “I’m sorry your tide pool was such a dud. I had no idea.”

  “That’s okay,” Talise said.

  “It isn’t, really. I’m giving you ten points extra credit for your patience. Why don’t you share Daymond�
�s tide pool for the rest of the lesson?”

  Talise went and stood beside Davy. His tide pool was bustling with activity. “What have you identified so far?” she asked.

  “Only a few things.” Davy handed her his notebook.

  Talise flipped through it, frowning, then laughing. “That’s not a brittle star! It’s a monkey squid. See, you know because of its little face. And all those invertebrates on the left are rainbow shrimp, not sea crickets.” She showed him in her identification guide.

  “Wow, you’re right,” Davy said. “You really do know a lot about the ocean.”

  Talise grinned so hard her face ached. For once, she was thrilled on the outside, too. “Indeed. I really do.”

  “You’re certainly in a good mood this morning,” Davy’s mom said, handing him a heaping bowl of cornflakes.

  Davy realized he’d been humming. “Oh,” he said, blushing a little. “I guess I am.”

  “Are you feeling more comfortable in Topsea?”

  “I guess so.” He dug through his cereal with his spoon, checking for wayward seaweed. Just another part of coastal life, he knew. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t weird. “It still doesn’t feel normal, though.”

  “I know what you mean.” His mom sat beside him and started digging through her own bowl. “But imagine if we’d moved here from a big city. Or another country! So many people move every day without knowing the culture, or even the language.”

  “It’d make it a lot harder to adjust,” Davy said thoughtfully. “And to make friends. Luckily, that part’s been pretty easy here.”

  “That’s wonderful!” His mom beamed.

  “At least, I think they’re my friends. They still can’t remember my name.” Davy plucked a piece of seaweed from his bowl and set it on his napkin. Immediately, it wriggled off the table and onto the floor.

  His mom stomped on it. “My supervisor at the seaweed cracker factory called me Bartholomew for a week. They probably just need to get to know you better.”

  “They do know me!” Davy paused. “Sort of. Maybe I’m just not memorable enough. They’re all so interesting, and I’m so…normal.”

  “Well, I think you’re special.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

  She ruffled his shaggy brown hair. “You know what your dad would have told you?”

  “He’d want me to try new things,” Davy said. “And I have been! I’ve done all sorts of crazy, wild stuff. I raced across the boardwalk with a troll underneath. I got lost in the school’s basement. I snuck into the abandoned arcade—”

  “Wait, you snuck in?”

  Davy busied himself with his bowl of cereal.

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” his mom said. “Sure, your dad thought trying new things was important. But that doesn’t always mean crazy, wild things.”

  “Then what does it mean?”

  “It can mean anything at all. Even something as small as a pickle-and-peanut-butter sandwich.” She smiled, though there was a bit of sadness in it. “Or even just trying out new hobbies. Your friends find them interesting. If you never try them yourself, how will you ever know why?”

  Davy scratched his head.

  He’d thought Runa’s outrageous tales were weird. But when he’d tried telling them himself, all the other kids had been fascinated! He’d felt interesting then, even if it was only for a few minutes.

  And anytime he’d joined in the activities his friends suggested, like at the arcade and on the boardwalk, he’d had a great time.

  In fact…he’d felt almost normal.

  Acting like a Topsea kid made Davy feel like a Topsea kid. Why hadn’t he realized that before?

  “Great idea, Mom!” Davy exclaimed. “I’ll act exactly like my friends!”

  His mom raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you need to act exactly like them….”

  But he was already rushing out the door.

  Since moving to Topsea, Davy had spent the most time with Quincy. And every day, all day, he’d watched his new friend write down questions. Hundreds of questions! Although Davy had no idea why Quincy did it, his hobby seemed like an easy place to start.

  First, Davy stopped by the drugstore for a new notebook.

  “I’m sorry,” said the shopkeeper. “We just sold our last notebook to another kid.”

  “Aw, nuts,” Davy said. “I’ll bet he had red glasses. Do you have anything else I could use for writing things down?”

  “You’re in luck!” The shopkeeper reached under the counter and handed Davy a roll of paper, a pot of ink, and a gigantic peacock feather. “Will this work?”

  Davy blinked. “Oh. Um. Er.” This wasn’t anything like Quincy’s notebook! But Davy didn’t want to quit before he’d started. “I guess I’ll take them.”

  The first kids he spotted were Runa and Finn, sitting on swings in the schoolyard. “Hey Ru—” he began, then remembered his gigantic feather.

  He dove behind a tree.

  At least he could still hear their conversation. Well, he couldn’t really make out what Finn was saying, as usual. But Runa’s questions were loud and clear. In fact, practically everything she said was a question! Davy wrote them down as quickly as his feather pen could go:

  Did I tell you about the time I found the end of the endless pier?

  And I fell off the end?

  And a nice, gentle tidal wave carried me back to shore?

  What about the time I saw the mermaid statue get up and walk across town?

  “Mermaids don’t walk,” Davy muttered to himself, then paused. “Wait—neither do statues.”

  And then she started singing the most beautiful music?

  And all the rock cats started yowling along?

  “What are you doing?”

  What are you—

  Somebody bopped Davy on the head. He dropped his pot of ink, then held his peacock feather in front of his face.

  “Are you eavesdropping?” Jules demanded.

  Davy lowered the feather. Nia stood beside Jules, hands on her hips. Even Earl Grey appeared to be glaring.

  “Sit,” Nia said to Earl Grey, who sat down immediately. Then she turned to Davy. “You’re spying!”

  “What?” Davy said. “No I’m not.”

  Jules peered at him. “Why should we believe you, Doug? You’re still new in town. You might have an ulterior motive.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It—” Jules began. “I’m not actually sure.”

  “Have you discovered any big secrets?” Nia asked. “The top-secrety kind? Oh, you’ve got to tell us!”

  “I’m not a spy!” Davy said. “And anyway, Jules is always writing down stuff, too.”

  Nia slung an arm around Jules’s shoulders. “That’s because Jules is a star reporter!”

  “That’s right!” Jules grinned. “And Nia is…um, a star athlete. And my very best friend.”

  “Really?” Davy said. “You guys bicker nonstop.”

  Nia scowled at him. “No we don’t!”

  “Yes, we do,” Jules bickered.

  “What were you really writing?” Suddenly Nia’s face brightened. “Were you writing poetry? Oh, I love poems! Can you read us one?”

  Davy turned magenta.

  The whole time, Earl Grey had been sitting politely a few feet away. Nia really had done a great job training him. Davy had never trained a pet before—he’d always wanted a dog, but his dad had been allergic….

  “I know!” Davy said. He thrust the feather, pot of ink, and scroll at the girls.

  “You know what?” Nia asked.

  “What do you know?” Jules asked.

  But Davy was already sprinting for the beach.

  When he neared the rocks, he slowed. Pet cats were perfectly normal in Davy’s old town. But by now, he was pretty sure the rock cats weren’t normal cats. They stared back at him with their yellow eyes, making him feel uneasy. Could they tell Davy was more of a dog person?


  Then he saw a crab scuttling over the rock closest to him. It paused to look at him, tapping its triple-jointed legs as if in greeting.

  “Even better!” Davy said, relieved.

  Cautiously, he reached out. The crab jumped right onto his arm. Its numerous pointy legs tickled his skin, giving him a shivery feeling. Topsea crabs were creepy looking, but they didn’t have great big claws, like normal crabs. They had tiny pincers on either side of their mouths.

  “Sit,” Davy said, in the same tone Nia had used with Earl Grey.

  The crab crawled up his shoulder and into his hair.

  “Ahhh!” He shook his head. The crab fell out onto the sand. “Sit!” he ordered even more loudly.

  The crab scuttled toward the rocks and disappeared.

  Davy sighed. He walked along the beach with his head down, feeling discouraged. Who else could he try to be like?

  There was Talise, who knew so much about the ocean. It was amazing! But Davy didn’t have any bathymetry equipment, let alone a scuba license. He’d always thought he’d get one with his dad someday.

  He could paint, like Runa. But his paintings would never be as good as her beautiful ones. Or her tales. They were almost as good as the ones his dad used to tell.

  He could try to talk really quietly, like Finn. But he was pretty sure nobody would notice.

  He could tie a teacup to his tail, like Earl Grey….

  Davy sighed. He didn’t have a tail.

  It was no use. Davy had thought acting like his Topsea friends would make him feel normal. And once he felt normal, life would go back to normal again. But now he knew that was impossible.

  “What’s the trouble, buddy?”

  Davy glanced over. It was Ricky, the cafeteria man with the knife-and-fork tattoo on his bicep. He was holding a shovel.

  “Oh,” Davy said with a gusty sigh. “I was just thinking.”

  “About something pretty depressing,” Ricky said, “judging from a sigh like that.”

  Davy shrugged. “What are you doing with that shovel?”

  “Digging for clams. And other things.”

  “Other things?” Davy repeated. “Like what?”

  Ricky winked. “Who knows? But that’s the fun of it. It’s just like when the ice-cream man comes to town—you never know what you’re going to get.”