Page 35 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
Two long horns curved out from either side of me, their tips pointing toward the sky. Short, spiky scales cascaded down the length of the rock, tapering off between two slotted nostrils, which were currently blowing steam into the air.
No.Itcouldn’tbe.
A series of twitches and spasms rolled under my hands, as though the rock had been tickled by my frenzied crab-crawling.
I stilled, resting on my hands and knees, struggling to keep my breathing steady as realization thrashed my bones.
This isn’t a rock! It’s…
The Loch Ness Monster!
Had to be. Its head, at least.
The nostrils flared again, making a soft flutter as they shot another jet of steam.
Stars above. I was sitting on the Loch Ness Monster’shead.
“GAHHHH!” I bellowed.
The monster flinched. “Must you be…noisy?”
And thatvoice.
The phantom brogue, the one that’d haunted me since the ship ride, had been coming fromhim?
“No…nope, nope, na-ah.” I shimmied down the narrowed tip of his snout and nosedived—literally—back into the water.
Because in that moment—that wild, panicked moment—I decided the sea was lessterrifying than the beast.
But what I didn’t realize?
How far down the sea actually was.
I’d expected to plop right into it. Instead, I plummeted—ten feet, at least—screaming the whole way, until…
Swish.
Back under the water I went, choking when my last wail opened the floodgates and saturated my lungs.
Ithurt.I sobbed, exhausted and frantic, but the ocean guzzled my tears.
Big, blotchy white spots blossomed in front of my eyes.
“That…” A voice thrummed between my ears. “Was…s-s-si…silly.”
Thwack.
Something big and solid bashed into my bottom and pushed me up, lifting me clean out of the water.
I was right back where I’d started, on the head of the beast.
I didn’t knowwhyI expected that to go any differently. The Loch Ness Monster was a whopping “forty American feet.”Even if I were an Olympic-level freestyler, all bedazzled in my gold medals, I’dneveroutswim him.
“Why?” the voice demanded while I barfed up lungfuls of ocean—and half my dinner. Probably all the wine.
“Whywhat?” I gagged. “Why did I try to swim away? Why am I crying? Or p-puking? Because ofyou.”
Beneath me, the monster shuddered.
