If I’d ever thought synchronized swimming wasn’t real swimming, I quickly learned otherwise. Zadie and Lenore started with a few basic moves. I already knew how to tread water, but they demonstrated how to do it invisibly, sculling our arms underwater with our elbows glued to our sides as we waved our flukes back and forth. It took a surprising amount of effort to stay afloat.
“Being a good synchronized swimmer takes the lung power of a long-distance runner, the leg strength of a water polo player, the grace and rhythm of a ballet dancer, and the muscle control of a gymnast,” Zadie explained. “That’s what Esther Williams always used to say.”
Next, they had us try the ballet leg double position. Lying back in the water, we drew our knees in to our chests, then extended our legs straight up and waved our flukes in the air.
“See how I’m sculling underwater again to keep myself in place?” said Zadie.
We also tried the oyster, lying flat on our backs in the water and then closing up like clamshells—or oyster shells in this case—by bringing our legs and hands up and touching them together, then sinking down bottom first into the water.
“Good job!” said Zadie. “Now form a circle and try some of the moves in unison.”
Swimming in a tail was a lot harder than the professional mermaids had made it look at the pirate museum. By the time Delphine rang the lunch gong, my legs were aching, and my arm and back muscles were sore from the constant sculling needed to counter the downward drag of the heavy shimmertail.
“This isn’t mermaid academy; it’s mermaid boot camp,” I grumbled as we trooped back to our cabins to change.
At lunch, I nearly fell asleep in my clam chowder. My head was bobbing as Sirena outlined the rest of the day’s packed schedule.
“And don’t forget, we’re all going to reveal our mermaid names tonight after dinner!” she told us. “Get busy on those backstories, ladies!”
Mackenzie and Cha Cha and Jasmine had to practically carry me back to Whelk for our siesta. I flopped onto my bunk as the three of them huddled together to work on their backstories. I was too tired to lift my head off the pillow, let alone lift a pen. They’d been swimming all morning in tails made of spandex and neoprene, not thirty pounds of silicone. I was out like a light in ten seconds flat.
I awoke with a start as Mackenzie shook my shoulder.
“Siesta is over, Truly!”
“Already?” I groaned. “We were supposed to have a Pumpkin Falls Private Eyes videoconference.” I checked my phone. Sure enough, there was a whole string of text messages from the boys.
“We can do that later,” my cousin said. “Hurry up! You’ll miss the movie!”
I texted Calhoun to let him know the change of plans, then headed back to Mermaid HQ, where Sirena and Delphine had giant bowls of popcorn waiting for us in front of the big-screen TV.
“Which movie did you decide on?” Zadie asked Sirena.
“Million Dollar Mermaid, of course!”
Zadie laughed. “I figured you might choose that one.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Come on, Lenore. This is going to be fun.”
The movie was as cheesy as the rest of mermaid camp. Zadie was right, though—it was fun. It wasn’t about a mermaid, but rather a real woman named Annette Kellerman who was a famous Australian swimmer a century ago. She had to wear leg braces as a kid, but overcame them by learning to swim. She went on to win all sorts of prizes before moving to America and becoming a star, performing in this giant aquarium theater in New York called the Hippodrome. I liked how feisty Annette was, sticking up for herself when she got in trouble with the law for wearing a one-piece bathing suit. That was considered scandalous back in 1907, when women were supposed to wear “bathing costumes” that looked like long dresses, or bloomers with stockings.
The best parts, though, were when Annette—Esther Williams—dove and swam. I could tell the minute I saw the muscles in her legs that she was a real athlete. Sirena had been right about that. Esther did her own stunts, and even without knowing much about synchronized swimming, I could appreciate the level of difficulty most of the dives and tricks took.
I had to admit that I liked the choreographed water ballet stuff, too, even if it was over the top Hollywood, with Esther almost always wearing full makeup and something sparkly.
“There we are!” yelled Zadie at one point, and Sirena immediately hit pause on the remote. Zadie sprang out of her seat and rushed to the TV screen, pointing to a circle of girls in gold swimsuits and matching caps who were emerging from the water on a platform. “That’s us, right behind Esther!”
Sirena hit play again, and we watched as the swimmers all rose into the air, thanks to what Zadie explained was a hydraulic lift. Esther Williams was wearing a glittering gold bodysuit and matching crown for this scene, and Zadie and Lenore framed her like a pair of shiny gold bookends.
I glanced from the youthful onscreen images to the two wrinkled faces beaming at us from across the room. Would I look like that when I was their age, I wondered? On the other hand, if I could swim as well as they could when I was nearly ninety, who cared?
My favorite scenes were the ones filmed from above. As the swimmers’ arms and legs moved in changing formations, they created a sort of human kaleidoscope, which was really cool to watch.
“Such precision! Such artistry!” cried Sirena, pausing the movie again a few minutes later when the camera zoomed in on Zadie and Lenore. The two of them were smiling big red-lipstick smiles and laughing as they were towed across the Hippodrome pool by an
