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Next to that one was one with an Amazon manatee in it. Back in Columbus’s day, sailors used to think manatees were mermaids. These sailors had gone a long time without seeing women. A manatee looks like a shapely walrus, with hips.

A giant salamander seven feet long, little scissors-tail fish, whose tails open and close like scissors as they swim, and everything was all right at the aquarium. Puff-fish, alligator gars, zebra eels, but soon she would have to leave. Wolf fish, pipefish, a fish called snakehead and one called feather-back, school would be getting out soon. There were crabs, lobsters, anchovies, and sturgeon with their long noses and mustaches.

Sawfish with noses shaped like saws and paddlefish with noses shaped like paddles, she could have stayed there forever. There were brightly colored electric fish, so bright that their tank wasn’t lit like the rest of the tanks, and flashlight fish, who emitted their own light so that they could see where they were going.

She left the aquarium. She felt fine. Everything was still all right.

The Earth spins around at 1,037 miles per hour, she knew that before she was born, and Angeline spun around too, right along with it.

Thirteen

No Going Back

“Lay down ye weapon, sailor, or off she goes!” The sailor looked at the lovely lady with her hands tied behind her, standing at the edge of the plank. He only had to see her eyes to know that she too was in love with him. He glared defiantly at the one-eyed pirate, then slowly lowered his sword.

Angeline put her thumb in her mouth; then, catching herself, she immediately bit it. “If only I didn’t suck my thumb,” she thought. She examined it for teeth marks. From now on, she decided, anytime she caught herself sucking her thumb, she would bite it hard. The more it hurt, the better. “Then, maybe I’ll learn.”

It had been a week since Mrs. Hardlick had sent her home. She hadn’t been back to school since. Instead, every day she took the number eight to the aquarium, to the bumphead hogfish, the Garden of Eels, and the circular room with all the big frowning fish. She wondered why she liked the frowning fish so much. She thought it must have been kind of like the clowns at the circus. The ones with the frowns were always funnier than those with the big smiles.

“Don’t hug me until I take a shower,” said Abel as he came home.

She wanted to tell him about the aquarium and about what happened in Mrs. Hardlick’s class and why she couldn’t ever go back there. She had been wanting to tell him about it all week, but how could she? He expected so much from her.

“Now you can hug me,” said Abel as he emerged in his pajamas and robe.

Angeline hugged and kissed her father, then sneezed. The odor of his shampoo irritated her nose.

Abel always washed his hair in the shower. He had to wash all the banana peels out of his hair. Every day, all day, he felt like he had banana peels in his hair. He would look in the rearview mirror to try to assure himself that they weren’t really there but he was never totally satisfied until he took his shower and washed his hair.

Angeline knew she had to tell him about school. She knew he would find out about it, anyway, someday.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her.

She stared at him for a moment, but couldn’t tell him. “Oh, I hurt my thumb,” she said instead.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“I bit it,” she told him.

“I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

“A little,” she replied. “Not enough.”

“Okay, fine,” said Abel. He walked into the kitchen shaking his head. “Do you want salt water with your dinner?” he called.

“Yes, please,” Angeline answered.

The phone rang. “It’s for you,” Abel called.

She ran into the living room and took the phone from her father. “Hello,” she said.

“Hi,” said the voice on the other end, “this is Goon.” Gary laughed awkwardly.

“Hi, Gary.”

“Hi,” Gary said again. He sounded nervous. “Where have you been the last few days?” he asked. “How come you haven’t been in school?”

Angeline looked at her father cooking dinner. She couldn’t talk with him there. “My socks are green,” she said.


Tags: Louis Sachar Someday Angeline Fiction