I nodded, trying to breathe. Was this how it was going to feel—all the time? My feet tickled from the humming beneath. My legs were wobbly. And my stomach was starting to swirl.
“Grace, are you okay?” dad asked with a look of concern on his face. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I think I’m getting seasick.”
The waiter turned to Dad. “We have Dramamine at the ship store. It
usually does the trick, especially for kids.”
We left the Aquatic Club without ordering anything and headed straight for the ship store. Dad bought a bottle of Dramamine while I waited, doubled over at the counter, my head spinning.
By the time we made it back to our suite, I was sick. I mean, really sick. Mom half walked, half carried me to my room, which suddenly seemed a lot smaller. She gave me a pill—which I assume was the Dramamine, and a glass of water, and the two of us sat on my bed for a few minutes. I took out Dad’s Ipad and tried playing Mad Libs, but watching the screen just made me feel worse.
“Maybe some fresh air will help, Grace,” Mom said as she walked over to the balcony and slid open the door. When the warm sea air hit me, all at once I realized that the ship, or at least our suite, must have air conditioning. With a deep breath, I stood up and bravely made my way over to the balcony.
If it weren’t for my pounding head and the constant motion in my stomach, I probably would have shouted out in delight at the view in front of me. My eyes were immediately drawn to the line of mountains meeting the wispy gray clouds on the distant horizon, reminding me of the pictures I used to draw in art class. The light from the sun reflected off of the calm sea waves and showed no sign of going down.
“Honey?” Mom was still standing beside me, looking concerned. “Are you feeling any better now?”
Back to reality. Suddenly a wave of nausea swept over me. I shook my head. If anything, I was getting worse.
“Well,” she said, glancing at her watch. It’s 5:35 now. Emma and Leah are expecting us for dinner at six. We certainly don’t have to go, but at least I have to let them know why we can’t make it.”
I felt a twinge of guilt. We were two hours into the best vacation of our lives, it was Christmas, and I was already ruining everything. “No, Mom. You and Dad should go to dinner. I’ll be fine here, I just need some rest,” I said, knowing that if I didn’t sound confident enough, she wouldn’t be able to leave.
Dad stuck his head through the doorway. “I have an idea. Why doesn’t Mom stay here? I’ll let Emma and Leah know what’s going on so they won’t worry, and then I can pick up food for everyone—or, for whoever’s hungry,” he added, glancing at me with pity in his eyes. Mom nodded and followed Dad out into the hallway, probably to give him her order.
Food was the last thing on my mind. Suddenly, I felt very sleepy. I changed into my pajamas, skipped the rest of my usual bedtime routine (washing up and brushing my teeth), grabbed Blankie and slid under the covers of my new bed. The sheets were softer than the ones I had at home, but I still would have taken my old bed over this one any day.
Mom came in and sat with me, but she really didn’t need to; the medicine was definitely working. The dizziness was fading, and the drumming pain in my head began to disappear as the gentle sensation of sleep took over. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was the line of clouds off in the distance, high above the miles of ocean just outside my room. The door to the balcony remained wide open. Why would I close it, anyway?
*****
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was how breezy the room was.
Mom had left the balcony door open. My second thought was much more troubling: I was not alone. I didn’t feel like I was in danger, but there was definitely something close by, something alive.
The moon was full tonight, and its light was reflecting off of the water’s surface, causing bright shapes to dance behind the glass balcony doors. At least, that’s what I thought they were, until I stood up and started walking toward the balcony. Suddenly the shape froze in one spot, like the light from a spotlight.
I stopped in my tracks and watched, waiting for the light to start moving again. But instead, all at once the motion of the ship returned, and I fell to my knees as the nausea came back again. The medicine had worn off.
I desperately started crawling for the door to the hallway. Without some more of that Dramamine, I would never be able to fall back asleep. And I was sure that Mom wouldn’t mind me waking her up. I was halfway to the door when I heard the voice from behind me.
“Poor human. Should have stayed on your lovely land. Learning your lesson now? Now that it’s too late, ay?”
I spun around just in time to see a light dart toward the balcony door. It remained there, almost completely still, but flickering just slightly. I held up my hands and stared at them, trying to remove all doubt in my mind that this was actually happening, and that I wasn’t dreaming.
“Now what’s she doing? Strange one I’ve found, eh,” the voice chimed. It sounded nasally, almost robotic, but with a funny accent that reminded me of how pirates talk.
Dream or not, I decided to play along. “Who are you calling strange?”
Before I even finished, the light shot up and disappeared in the sky.
“I scared it away,” I said to myself. After waiting for several minutes (at least that’s how long it felt), I sighed, silently cursing myself for being so crude. Just as I started towards the door again...
“You can hear me, ah?”
When I turned around, the light was back, this time on the floor of my room just inside the balcony doors.
“Uh huh,” I said, still crouched over on the ground, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the spinning sensation that had taken over my body. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I wasn’t about to miss it because of a little motion sickness.
“Well this is tingly for me, and for you, I’m sure, ay?”
I was not sure what that meant exactly, but I nodded. “Um, what are you?”
Slowly, the light began inching toward me. “You have a kind soul, and I can tell you won’t hurt me, so I will tell you.” It was now just a few feet away. “My name is Sarah. I am what you humans call a fairy, eh?”
I gasped, and then realized the polite thing to say. “Sorry, I’m Grace.”
The light flickered. “You’re still surprised to see me. There’s a reason you people never see us, eh? We usually stay in the clouds above the ocean. You see, we get our power to fly from the salt in the ocean.” “So what do you eat?” I asked.
“Salt, eh?”
“And you drink...”
“Salt, ay,” it repeated.
“Does everything you say have to end like a question?” I asked as politely as I could.
“Yes. To us, this sound does not mean question. We travel much faster than you humans. And there are so many of us going to so many different places, it makes conversations faster, and therefore we must have a word that shows we are finished speaking. You humans spend five minutes saying goodbye, telling where you are going, how the other should feel when you will see them again. We just say eh, ay?”
“Do you,” I hesitated, “have a family?”
“Not like you. Every fairy is my family. We have been flying the skies for many suns, way beyond your mother and father, even their mothers and fathers. We, live forever, ah?”
As Sarah came within a few inches of me, I looked down and tried to see through the glare, but it burned my eyes.
“Do not do that. Human eyes are not made to see us.”
“So, what do you look like, then?” I asked.
“The closest thing to us that you have seen would be what you humans call crystal. We all have different shapes, like the snowflakes that fall from the sky, eh?”
“And if we can never see you, why did you come to see me?”
The light flickered. “I am here to help you. With your little problem, ay?” At first, I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then, my body
reminded me that it felt like a banana that had just been through a blender. “You can – help me? How?”
“We fairies have wings, but they are used only to propel us when we fly. We survive the giant sprays from waves and the roaring wind over the ocean because we have balancing chips. They are layers of magnets that all fairies are born with and keep until they wear out. When we lose a balancing chip, another one simply takes its place.”
“Now Grace, it is time for you to have faith. Faith in the powers of Earth. I will give you two of my balancing chips, and they will protect you from the rhythms of the sea for the remainder of your journey. This will solve your problem, ay?”
I sat in shocked silence for a minute before answering. “I have faith, I’ve always had faith. But, why are you doing this for me?”
“Because I have a feeling about you, Grace. We fairies see and hear a great deal, everything that happens over the ocean, in fact. We know that Earth is changing. The time of separation between the ocean and land creatures has ended. Every day, more and more humans come to the ocean and take its treasures, treasures that will not return once they are gone. But some treasures are not meant to be found, and it is time to protect them. Most humans have good intentions—to feed their families—but with each turn of the earth, greater evil can be sensed on the shores. The fairies have decided that it is time to call out, but only to humans that have the faith to answer, eh?”
Sarah’s words gave me chills. She believed in me, Grace Gabrys, enough to fly into my room and make the world’s first fairy-to-human contact! How could I say no? “I will do anything to help you, Sarah,” I said.
“Good,” she answered. “But first, I will help you. Close your eyes. I will plant three chips, one on your head and the other two beneath your feet. These chips will give you the proper balance, and your sickness will disappear for as long as you are on the ocean. But be warned, the chips are magnetically charged, and must not come too close to an electrical current. We have our fair share of lightening strikes in the clouds, and they don’t affect us fairies. But I cannot say the same for you, my human friend, eh?”
With my eyes closed, I nodded.
“When you open your eyes again, I will be gone. But I will return when the time is right. Just don’t forget your promise, ay?”
“I won’t,” I vowed as I closed my eyes.
What happened next was amazing. In the still darkness, a light grew brighter and brighter, until...I saw her. A perfect sunflower, with brilliant crystal petals and a circle of gold in the center. And then, the light vanished as quickly as it came. I was alone again.
* * * * *Day2
When I opened my eyes, I noticed immediately that the dizziness was gone. I found myself lying in bed, feeling like I was nestled in soft cushions all around me. But the blankets had actually been pushed back to the foot of the bed, leaving me uncovered during the night.
The Balancing Chips! I reached up and touched the top of my head, feeling for anything different or unusual. But there was nothing there. The same went for the bottom of my feet—all I felt was skin. Well, they were in there somewhere; they had to be. Otherwise, why did I feel so much better all of sudden?
A knock at the door brought me to attention. Mom poked her head through the opening. “Grace, how are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks Mom,” I answered. I had already decided that Mom and Dad couldn’t find out about Sarah; they would never believe my story anyway.
“Do you need more of the medicine from last night?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m okay now. I think I’m getting used to the motion,” I explained.
Mom looked relieved. “Great, then you can join us! Today is Leah’s day off, and since we missed Christmas dinner last night, we owe her breakfast. Emma’s coming, too!”
I showered and changed into my first cruise outfit: pink shorts with a green top. Then Mom, Dad and I headed to the bridge to meet Leah. She was seated alone on the observation deck, wearing a suit and tie, which seemed pretty out of place on a ship where everyone else either wore a swimsuit or a summer outfit. I guess the cruise director has to look the part.
“Hi, you guys!” Leah stood and hugged each of us. “Welcome to the Voyager!”
After we talked for a few minutes on the deck, Leah showed us the ship’s cockpit, and we got to meet the crew, which was awesome. Then, we walked down to a restaurant for breakfast. Emma met us there. When we were seated and had ordered, I gathered up the courage to ask a question. “So, Leah, what
kinds of animals and fish do you see out on the ocean?”
“Don’t get her started,” Emma said, smiling playfully.
“Too late, Emma,” Leah shot back. Turning to me, she replied with
excitement in her voice. “Everything, Grace. There are the big ones like whales, dolphins, even sharks. And the smaller fish, eels, stingrays, and different coral configurations, too.”
“One of the biggest reasons why I came out here,” Leah continued, “was to learn how to grow a business, and after working on a cruise ship now for more than half of a year, I’ve begun to understand where the money really comes from, and where it usually goes.”
“Ah, I bet I know the answer,” Dad chimed in. He was a lawyer, but he liked being part of business discussions, and this looked like the perfect opportunity for him to teach us all a thing or two. “The ship makes some money on food and drinks, but people spend the most amount of money on gambling, isn’t that right, Leah?”
“Well, you’re close,” Leah said, smiling. Then, her expression changed. “But you’ll never guess the right answer, because you don’t have the same experience or expertise that I do.”
Emma elbowed Leah in the side. “Hey, that was rude, sis!”
Leah ignored Emma and continued talking. “Anyway, I learned this after I analyzed all of the profits that the ship takes in on a ‘Voyage,’ as we like to call them. The average Voyager passenger spends $40 per day on food and drinks, $25 on gambling, and $10 on activities and exercise. There’s even a charge for doing laundry.”
She paused and looked around the table to make sure we were all listening. “But the most money that people spend, by far, is on the specialty entertainment. I’m not talking about the shows at night or kids programming during the day. No, the big money makers are the things that you can’t do at home, like the all-day excursions, snorkeling, scuba diving, and zip lining. People spend hundreds of dollars a day on those things, and they would gladly pay more. Imagine how much they would be willing to pay for, I don’t know, a close encounter with an eel, or to ride a giant sea turtle? The possibilities are endless.”
As she finished, Leah’s voice lowered an octave, and she seemed to be thinking about something else. I caught Emma shaking her head and grinning sarcastically. Suddenly I remembered why I liked Emma more than Leah as a babysitter. She wasn’t as serious, and she cared more about having fun.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Dad said, “but on the activities catalog, there is nothing listed about eels or sea turtles-”
“-Or whales, or Great White Sharks either,” Leah retorted. “I know. The ocean is filled with live treasures, just waiting to be discovered. We have the ships, but we still can’t find a way to unlock the treasures beneath.”
“Maybe there’s a reason for that, Leah,” Emma said. “The ocean is the last
habitat that hasn’t completely been overtaken by humans. You’ve seen what we’ve done to the rainforests. Why would it be any different?”
Something flashed across Leah’s eyes. Was it anger? “Oh, Emma. It’s a good thing you’re not the cruise director. We probably would never even leave the dock!”
“Anyway,” she continued, “people come on the Voyager to have the time of their lives, and it’s my job to give it to them. I take that very seriously,” she said, looking at us meaningfully.
Dad smiled. “Nothing wrong with being a little ambitious. With that attitude, you’ll be headed to your next promotion, Leah!”
The food came, and for a while everyone was quiet. Then, when the conversation shifted to Emma’s year in college, I started people watching. There were kids and their parents everywhere!
Leah left for a meeting before breakfast was over. Fifteen minutes later, we said goodbye to Emma and returned to the room to change into our swimsuits. I truly don’t know where the first day went. Between swimming at the Seaside Pool—which had a climbing wall that you could jump from into the pool—taking another tour of the ship after lunch, reading Wonder, and a round of miniature golf with Mom, there was more than enough to do!
Suddenly five o’clock was right around the corner, and Mom and Dad were
already talking about where to go for dinner. There was a dance contest show on the main stage tonight, so we ended up eating at the cafeteria, since it was buffet style and we could get in and out fast. The food wasn’t bad at all; I would have eaten there every night.
The show was pretty funny. The man with the microphone was calling everybody up to dance. There were a bunch of little kids, like three or four years old, and they were pretty cute. A few older kids went up and performed their dance routines. The funniest ones though, were actually the adults! Compared to the kids, they were slow, uncoordinated, and generally looked like someone forced them to go up there.
By the time we got back to the room it was eight-thirty, and I was exhausted. The ship was rocking a little more than during the day, but thanks to my fairy-grade balancing chips, my body felt like I was in my own bedroom back in Fox Point. Sleep would come easy tonight. I fell into bed, and my eyes closed on their own.
*****
“Help!”
The voice seemed to come from a distance, but for some reason I felt like I was the target.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark around me, except for the light
shining in from the balcony. I stopped, realizing that behind the shades, I had left the sliding door open again.
As soon as I stepped outside, the cold ocean air hit me hard. But I didn’t care; the stars were out in full view, sprinkled around a moon that was nearly full. I was alone, but I wasn’t scared. It was the middle of the night; who was up besides me? Even if someone was, I was on my own level, probably a mile away from the next person.
I stood on the balcony, listening—for anything—while the waves crashed over one another, a million at a time. But there was nothing.
Did I dream it?
After what felt like five minutes, the skin along my arms and legs started to tingle slightly, probably from the cold. With a resigned sigh, I took one final scan of the ocean around me, and that’s when I heard it...
“Craw!”
I looked straight up, and for the first time I noticed the tower. It was directly behind our room, about twenty-five feet high with a square-shaped platform and a metal pole at the top. Four metal ladders extended down each of the sides.
There was something moving on the platform. I squinted. Was a bird?
It was a bird, and it was limping. I watched as it tried, not once, but twice, to lift off from the platform, only to collapse helplessly back to the floor.
“Craw!” It called again.
How long had the bird been stuck up there? The tower was by far the highest point on the ship, and I guessed that no one watched it during the day. The pole had a blinking blue light at the top. Maybe it was for satellites or something. In any case, unless the bird knew how to climb down a ladder, it had nowhere to go.
I considered my options. I could go back to sleep and hope that the bird made it through the night, then tell Leah about it tomorrow. Or, I could do something...
I tried to count the rungs on the ladder closest to me. Less than twenty. The climb actually looked pretty easy. Back at Maple Dale, I had no trouble climbing any of the equipment. Mrs. Mauermann even let me climb the rope in P.E.
“Caw!”
There was no way I could leave the poor bird out there. It looked so
helpless, so sad! Still, how was I going to get up there? I noticed that the metal railing extended in the shape of a U around me. If I could stand on it, I could reach the next level where the base of the tower began. I just needed something to hoist me up.
I walked into the room and looked for something, anything... Got it! I grabbed the chair from under the desk and dragged it out to the balcony. It was a perfect stepping stool to the railing.
Mom and Dad were not going to be happy about this. But I could always tell them the bird just flew onto the balcony. Maybe I could help it enough that it could fly away on its own—then Mom and Dad would never have to know. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the chair...
The whole maneuver was much easier than I thought it would be. As I stepped onto the railing and pulled myself up to the next level, I wondered how the cruise ship builders or designers could have made such a big mistake. Then I remembered that the other balcony rooms on the ship were stacked on top of each other, and the glass wall around the balconies would have made climbing to the next level impossible. I walked the short distance to the ladder and looked straight up. The bars were only about two feet apart. This was going to be easy, right?
“Focus, Grace. Keep your eyes in front of you, and don’t turn around until you get to the top. It’ll be just like climbing monkey bars.”
It was good advice. After the first few steps, the wind picked up, and I had every urge to reverse my course, but something kept me going. On the fifteenth bar, I could see the edge of the platform and hear the bird’s wings flapping in the whistling wind.
When I saw it, my mouth dropped open in shock. The bird—a species I didn’t recognize—was gigantic, even with its wings folded. It was lying on the platform, breathing heavily and looking defeated. I slowly stepped towards it and reached out my hand. When it looked up at me, its body stiffened with fear, but it didn’t try to move. I took another very small step forward.
“What’s wrong, my friend?” I asked as gently as I could.
The bird stared cautiously at me for a few seconds. Then, ever so slowly, it stuck out one of its feet. I could tell right away why it was having trouble flying: Its foot was caught on two plastic rings, the kind that are attached to soda cans in the grocery store.
Okay, now or never, Grace.
I moved my hand closer, painstakingly slowly, until I was touching the foot. A bird that size could have easily ripped my hand off with its beak, but for some reason I wasn’t afraid. I lifted up the foot and slid both rings off. Suddenly, sensing its freedom—or something else—the bird took off for the sky. I had just saved a life, and it felt pretty good. As I watched it majestically jet through the air, I wished it well, wherever it was going...
But then, it turned around. With a flick of its massive wings, the bird headed straight toward me. “Caw!” When it passed the tower, it made a sharp turn and came around for another run. But this time, it swerved right in front of the tower and went straight up towards the sky. “Caw, caw, caw!” What was it trying to tell me?
The thunder struck so loud that I thought it came from the ship beneath me. I had been so busy trying to help the bird that I hadn’t noticed the dark, grey clouds approaching from above. The blue light at the top of the pole blinked again, and suddenly, I realized exactly what it was: A lightning conductor! And there I was, with my electromagnetic balancing chips, sitting right below it like an ant on a basketball court.
I sprang into action, diving toward the edge of the platform. But it was too late. I never saw it coming. And when the lightning struck, there was nowhere to hide. I was the bull’s eye on the target. And it was a direct hit.
Great story!