The Mermaid's Scepter

Emma walked along the sandy beach with her grandmother. Seagulls squawked, flying to their nests on Haystack Rock. Colorful puffins dotted the rock, waiting for their mates to bring food. Grandma loved to search for creatures in the tide pools around Haystack Rock.

"I see a purple sea star," Emma said.

"Where?" Grandma balanced on a half-submerged rock.

"Clinging to the rock — just under the water," Emma said. "Oooh, I see a little fish."

"Look at that bit of sea lettuce," Grandma said. "I saw a little crab hiding there."

The two peered into the pool of water until a wave washed over their toes.

"Oh, that's cold water," Grandma said.

"I see two orange sea stars," Emma said.

"I think the tide is coming in," Grandma said. "We'd better head back."

"Can we feed the gulls when we get back?"

"Of course." Emma raced toward the surf and ran backward like a sandpiper when a wave came close. Then she splashed in the small waves. She paused and took a deep breath of the salty-smelling air. Emma walked along the edge of the water. Grandma walked on the dry sand.

"I found a shell." Emma held up a broken sand dollar to show Grandma. She gathered more shells.

"Come on, sweetie," Grandma called. "I feel raindrops falling."

Emma raced up to Grandma. "Hold these, please." She handed Grandma a handful of sandy shell fragments. "Can I find just one more?"

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"One more," Grandma said.

Emma ran to the water and stopped suddenly. A strange object bobbed in the surf. "Grandma!" Emma yelled. "Come look, hurry!"

Grandma walked quickly toward her. "What did you find?"

"Look." Emma picked up the object. "What is it?"

"Well, it's a piece of seaweed, or kelp," Grandma said. "But how odd...." She took the object from Emma. The piece of kelp had the round air bladder at the top and a long stem that wound round and round in an intricate diamond pattern.

"Emma, sweetie. It looks like a scepter."

"A what?"

"A scepter — like a queen holds." Grandma's eyes twinkled. "A mermaid queen."

Emma lightly touched the scepter. "Are mermaids real?"

"Anything can be real in your imagination," Grandma said.

"I want to take this back." Emma held the scepter across both her arms all the way to the beach house.

Grandma took a picture of Emma holding the scepter. Emma spent a long time staring at it and imagining the mermaid queen. She liked to think the queen had sparkling hair that shimmered like the ocean's surface on a sunny day.