The Tree of Mindala (Wunderwood Book 1)

Chapter 2 - Secrets Are For Keeping

"Miranda, you've really gone too far this time," Mr. Moon scolded. Miranda had actually thought she would get off without a lecture about her suspension when Mrs. Moon served her favorite dinner: pot roast, mashed potatoes, and glazed carrots. But seeing the table laden with enough food to feed a small army—and seeing Marcus's accusing glare—she wondered if maybe her father was right. Miranda and Marcus were both all too familiar with what they called their mother's "cooking-fits," which always seemed to coincide with some unpleasant event.

"Yes, it's got to stop," Mrs. Moon agreed, though her voice lacked any sternness as she scooped a third helping of mashed potatoes onto Miranda's plate. Miranda's parents never really gave her too hard a time about her stories. It was true she'd earned a reputation for being quite the storyteller, according to some. (According to others, she was completely crazy.) And there'd been many other times—too many to mention, really—that she'd had run-ins with her teachers, a lot like this one. Miranda supposed her mom and dad felt it was their duty to scold her this time because of the suspension.

"Let's face it," Marcus chimed in. "You'd do anything to get out of your swim lesson. That's really why you got yourself suspended."

You had to bring THAT into it, Miranda thought. Water, or more specifically, being helplessly trapped in it, was the one thing that truly scared Miranda. "I wasn't trying to get suspended! And I wasn't trying to get out of anything! I really did see a mermaid! Mrs. Dunderson found it. How could I have known it wasn't a real one?"

"Because there's no such thing, that's how!" Marcus sniped.

"Says who?!" Miranda shrieked. In the end, it had turned out to be nothing more than a mermaid doll tied to a plant at the shallow end of Possibility Pond. It had been swaying in the water, its blond hair splayed eerily about its head. Looking back on it, Miranda wished she hadn't mentioned it to her best friend, Alison. It wasn't until then that her story had spread like the common cold throughout their sixth-grade class. But it really had been there, and it had looked plenty real. Sometimes water could play tricks on your eyes. Just another reason she didn't like it much.

Along with suspending Miranda, Mrs. Dunderson had promised to send the bill for her dry cleaning to Miranda's parents, as well as for her pantyhose. Apparently they'd gotten torn when she'd tripped on a rock wading into the pond to investigate the source of Miranda's "troublesome tomfoolery." Still, Miranda couldn't help giggling at the image of her grumpy old teacher, standing in the pond with her skirt hiked up to her waist, revealing the waistband of her underwear that had "Tuesday" stitched into it. She pictured Mrs. Dunderson's tall, lacquered, pink-white hair bending so far forward in the wind that it threatened to topple her, face first, into the water where she would be startled herself to find the mermaid.

Of course, there'd been only gentle autumn breezes yesterday, not strong hair-bending winds, but Miranda couldn't help picturing it her way. That's just how her mind seemed to work, which was fine by her.

"What's so funny?" Marcus asked crossly.

Seeing her chance to pull Marcus out of his funk, Miranda told him her version of how Mrs. Dunderson got to the bottom of the mermaid mystery, leaving in her own humorous details. (The part about the waistband on her underwear was actually true. Miranda had had the misfortune of glimpsing it when Mrs. Dunderson had bent over to pick up a piece of chalk earlier that day.)

But Marcus was in too foul a mood to be amused. "See?! That's what I mean! There's no way that's how it happened. If it were, seeing that would almost be worth being stuck here until Monday," he admitted with a smile. But it was soon replaced by the glower he'd been wearing all day. "But you weren't even there! It's just another one of your stories!"