Mae and the Moon-Pool Hello

“Hello!” Mae called to the little ghost waving from the moonlit pool.

Mae stood on a sandy beach beneath a bright moon. The tide had slipped away, leaving tiny pools between the smooth rocks. In each pool, the moon made a bright round picture. Little crabs hurried sideways, and a snail left a silvery trail along a stone.

Mae was a little ghost who loved meeting new friends. She floated to the nearest tide pool and waved again.

The little ghost in the water waved, too.

Mae leaned to the left. The ghost leaned left. Mae leaned to the right. The ghost leaned right.

Mae smiled at the matching face. “You have my moves down! Want to make up a game?”

The water stayed quiet.

Mae waited. She could hear little waves lapping at the shore and a night bird calling from somewhere beyond the dunes. But the ghost did not climb out of the pool or say a word.

“Maybe you’re shy,” Mae said kindly. “I can wait.”

She perched on a smooth rock, resting her palms on her knees. The ghost sat, too—or seemed to. Mae waved one hand. The ghost waved one hand.

“Now I’ll try a tiny wave,” Mae whispered.

The ghost tried a tiny wave.

Mae giggled. “We’re already playing!”

She wished she could hear the other ghost’s name. She wished she could ask whether the ghost liked tide pools, moonlight, or the little crabs that scuttled under the rocks. Most of all, she wanted to say a proper hello and hear one back.

Mae floated closer to the pool. The water was still enough to show every pebble at its bottom. A small patch of seaweed lay beside the ghost’s pale face, and a round moon rested over its shoulder.

“Hello again,” Mae said. “I’m Mae.”

The little ghost opened its mouth at exactly the same time Mae did. No sound came from the water.

Mae tilted her head. The ghost tilted its head, too.

“Perhaps you can’t hear me from down there,” Mae said. “I’ll come closer.”

She bent over the pool, careful not to touch the water. The other ghost bent closer, too. Mae held very still and watched. Something about the way the little face moved seemed familiar—so familiar that Mae forgot to wave.

Mae lifted one hand slowly. The little ghost lifted its hand at the same time.

She lowered her hand. Down went the other hand.

Mae bent over until the water showed the tiny round end of her nose. She blinked. The little ghost blinked. She opened her mouth wide, and so did the figure.

“Oh!” Mae said. “You’re not in the pool. You’re me!”

The water held Mae’s reflection, clear as a picture. The bright moon floated behind her reflected head, and the pale face that had seemed like another ghost was Mae’s own face looking back.

Mae laughed at herself. “I’ve been saying hello to my reflection!”

A small giggle came from behind a smooth rock.

Mae turned around. “Was that you?”

For a moment, the rock said nothing. Then a pale hand peeked around its edge and vanished.

Mae remembered how it felt to want to meet someone and not know what to say. She kept her voice warm and easy.

“Hello,” she called. “I’m Mae. You can wave from there if you like.”

A little ghost peeked out. He had a round face, two shy eyes, and a wisp of hair that curled over one ear.

“I’m Arlo,” he said. “I was trying to wave, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You wouldn’t interrupt,” Mae said. “I was talking to my reflection.”

Arlo looked at the pool. “It’s a very good listener.”

Mae giggled. “And an excellent copier. Want to try a game with us?”

Arlo edged toward them, pausing between slow steps. He stood beside Mae at the edge of the pool, leaving plenty of room between their toes and the water.

“First, we both wave,” Mae said.

They raised their hands. In the pool, two little ghosts waved back—four, if they counted the reflections.

“Now let’s make the reflections touch fingertips,” Mae said. She moved to one side, and Arlo moved to the other. Their reflected hands met in the middle of the pool.

Arlo’s giggle bubbled out again. “They’re friends!”

“So are we,” Mae said.

They tried funny faces, tiny bows, and a slow turn that made their reflections spin together. Then Mae showed Arlo how to spot a crab hiding beside a stone. Arlo pointed out a round shell he had found near the water’s edge. Each time one of them spoke, the other listened.

Mae and Arlo stayed beside the tide pool while the little waves made the water quiver and settle. Their reflections wobbled, stretched, and came back together. When a wavelet passed, the two reflected ghosts looked as if they were riding a small, silver boat.

“Where should we sail?” Arlo asked.

“Past the moon,” Mae said. “Then around that pebble island.”

They moved their hands like oars. Their reflections paddled across the pool, circled a pebble, and reached the far side.

“Good sailing,” said Mae.

“Good rowing,” said Arlo.

A little crab scuttled out from under a rock and paused. Mae and Arlo held still so they would not startle it. The crab lifted one claw, then hurried along the sand.

“Maybe it waved goodbye,” Arlo whispered.

“Maybe it was saying hello,” Mae whispered back.

They watched it disappear into a small crack between two stones. Nothing needed to be chased. The beach was quiet again, with the tide pools resting among the rocks and the moon bright above them.

Arlo sat beside Mae on a broad, smooth rock. He no longer hid his hands in his sleeves. He told Mae that he liked looking for shells, but he often watched other little ghosts from a distance because he worried he might say the wrong thing.

“I’m glad you giggled,” Mae said. “It helped me find you.”

“I’m glad you waited,” Arlo replied. “And I’m glad your reflection was such a good game.”

Mae looked into the nearest pool. Her reflection waved. Arlo’s reflection waved beside it. Mae and Arlo waved once more, and their moonlit pictures waved back.

The night had grown quiet enough for the waves to sound like a slow lullaby. Mae and Arlo floated down the beach together, talking about crabs, shells, and the funny faces they would make the next time they visited the tide pools.

At the sandy path, they turned for one last look. Their reflections still rested in the water beneath the bright moon. Mae and Arlo waved to them, then headed home together, side by side, while the waves whispered along the shore.