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Message thread at CPP
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Clip Clop Magazine story contest
Enter stories here - get paid if they are run in Clip Clop Magazine.
Stories should be suitable for all ages and have a horse, pony, donkey or other animal in it.THE CON-MANATEE
“Phew! That was too close. I never want to see a shark that close ever again.”
Two friends swam through the blue waters of the Caribbean, discussing their lunchtime adventure. One was a bottlenose dolphin, and the other was a Galápagos penguin who had moved to the Florida Keys for “climate reasons.”
“You said it, Sunny,” the dolphin said with a shiver. “Thank goodness that shark was hungry for squid and not for us.”
“Yeah. There seems to be more and more sharks around these days. Before long, it’s going to be hard to eat without being eaten. Brrr, it gives me the willies. I can’t believe Twister is friends with those guys.”
“Speaking of Twister, we should go find him,” said the dolphin, whose name was Flash. “Maybe he’ll know what to do about this shark problem.”
Flash and Sunny turned around to head back towards the continent and were immediately surprised. A manatee floated in their path, several satchels hanging at his side.
“Whoa!” Flash exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”
“Oh, sorry to startle you, there,” the manatee said cheerfully. “I couldn’t help but overhear you two are having some shark problems. Well, you’re in luck, because I just so happen to have—“
“Hold up,” Sunny honked. She eyed the manatee suspiciously. “Who are you supposed to be?”
“Name’s Dwayne,” the manatee said, unaffected by Sunny’s coldness. “A modest manatee merchant of magnificent merchandise from the Mediterranean to Malaysia.”
“Wow, nice wordplay,” Flash said. He was far more curious about the stranger than his penguin friend. “I’m Flash, and this is Sunny.”
“Thank you, Flash, my fine finned friend. It is a pleasure to meet you both. Now, I believe you two had a serious shark situation on your flippers, correct?”
“Well…” Sunny began, but Dwayne plunged ahead.
“This is your lucky day, my friends. I have just the thing to solve all your shark-related woes.” He stuck his flipper into one of his satchels and scooped out a very unusual-looking shell attached to a string. Flash stared at it in wonder, but Sunny’s frown deepened.
“How is that gonna help anything? That’s just a seashell.”
“Not just any seashell, my dear Sunny. This is a sharkbane shell.”
“Sharkbane shell?” Flash echoed. “I’ve never heard of a sharkbane shell.”
“They are very rare,” Dwayne said, “obtained only from the oceans of Okinawa. They are a most unusual little trinket because they have a special secret.” He beckoned them closer so they could hear him whisper. “They repel sharks.”
Sunny barked a laugh. “Right. A tiny little shell that used to be a snail’s house is going to scare off the most terrifying predator in the seven seas.”
“Your skepticism is perfectly understandable, Sunny,” Dwayne said. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order. Would you be so kind as to observe?”
“I don’t see why not,” Flash said. “I’m curious.”
“Fine.” Sunny rolled her eyes. “I’ll come too.”
“Marvelous! Simply marvelous! I assure you, my friends, your patience will be well-rewarded. We simply need to find a shark.”
They swam on for a little while until they came to a cluster of rocks. Sunny and Flash gasped in fright when they saw a spinner shark nosing around below.
Dwayne held up a fin. “Wait here,” he said softly, “and watch closely.” He swam slowly down to where the shark was at, holding out the shell.
“Dwayne!” Sunny shouted. “Are you crazy?”
“Wait a minute, Sunny,” Flash said. “I think Dwayne knows what he’s doing.”
When Dwayne got within ten feet of the shark, it abruptly turned away and swam in the opposite direction. The manatee pursued it, swimming faster and faster. No matter what, the shark never allowed Dwayne and the shell to get near it. Barely fifteen seconds passed before the sharkbane shell took its full effect, and the shark sped out of the area. Flash and Sunny were astonished.
“Incredible!” Flash said as Dwayne swam back over to them. “How did you do that?!”
“Whoa. It really does work!” Sunny said. “Boy, I’ve gotta get me one of those!”
“I’d be delighted to let you have this one, Sunny,” Dwayne said.
“Really? Gee, thanks!”
Sunny reached for the shell, but Dwayne pulled it away. “For a suitable compensation, of course.”
“Huh?”
“I think he wants you to pay for it,” Flash said.
“Well, I don’t get my mercantile for free,” Dwayne chuckled. “And a manatee must make his living, too. But my sharkbane shells are reasonably priced - if I say so myself - and for the protection they offer, they are worth their weight in gold.”
“Alright,” Sunny sighed. “How much?”
“Three satchels of seagrass and one satchel of fish,” Dwayne smiled, patting the bags at his side.
Sunny frowned. “I don’t just carry that much food around with me.”
“Chill, Sunny,” Flash said. “Let’s go back to Paradise Reef. We can get some seagrass and fish there. And I bet there are some other creatures who’d be interested in buying a sharkbane shell.” He looked at the manatee merchant. “Dwayne, would you mind coming with us?”
“Not at all, good fellow! I’d be delighted to share my wares with your friends! Now, where exactly is this Paradise Reef you speak of?”
“It’s a few miles northwest of here,” Flash said. “A big reef. You can’t miss it.”
“A few miles northwest?” Dwayne repeated loudly. “Certainly. Nothing like a long swim to get the blood flowing.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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“Thanks for helping me clean up, Tristan,” said Twister.
“Not a problem, pal. It’s important to help keep the oceans trash-free.”
Tristan swam around Paradise Reef, picking up garbage with a trash grabber and placing it in a net. The latest storm had brought an influx of garbage to Paradise Reef, and Tristan was determined to help clean it up. The number of sharks around made the job slightly disconcerting.
“What’s with all the sharks, Twister?” Tristan asked.
Twister tossed his head, and his clear horn twinkled in the light. He was a hippocampus, half-fish, half-horse, and he often understood what sharks were up to because he was friends with several of them. “Not sure, but I’d bet it has something to do with food. I’ll have to ask Mack next time I see him.”
“Here he comes!” Tristan exclaimed.
The mako shark was swimming swiftly towards them. When Twister tried to ask him what the rush was, he said, “Not talk.” and kept going until he was gone from Paradise Reef completely.
“That was… weird,” Twister said, puzzled. “Sharks are creatures of few words, but not that few words.”
“Maybe he got word about a bunch of tasty fish, or something,” Tristan offered.
“Possibly. Sharks don’t like to talk when food’s on their mind.”
More time passed, and Twister and Tristan began to notice that no sharks were around. They were just about to go investigate when they heard a voice.
“Twister! Tristan! You’ll never guess what we’ve got!”
“That sounds like Sunny,” Twister said. He turned to see the penguin, along with Flash and a strange manatee, swimming towards them. Flash got to them first.
“Twister, you’ve got to meet this guy! His name’s Dwayne, and you’ll never guess what—“
“Great googly-moogly!” Dwayne exclaimed when he saw Twister. “What are you?”
Twister tilted his head up and sideways to look at the manatee. “I’m a hippocampus,” he replied.
“Flash? Sunny? What’s going on? Tristan asked.
“And a human!” Dwayne cried. “A human who speaks the languages of the sea! Ho-hum, now I have seen everything!”
“Welcome to Paradise Reef, Dwayne,” Twister said. “Something we can help you with?”
“Dwayne’s selling sharkbane shells,” Sunny blurted. “They drive sharks away. Can you believe it?”
“Sharkbane shells?” said Twister and Tristan in unison.
“Yes, sharkbane shells,” Dwayne replied. “A wonder of the water world, for sure. Sunny and Flash here told me that you fellows at Paradise Reef are having some shark shenanigans you’d like to be rid of. Well, here’s your answer, folks! The rare and beautiful sharkbane shell, one-hundred percent effective at driving sharks away!” A cloud of marine animals had begun to congregate as Dwayne continued his sales pitch. “Yes, friends! All I ask in exchange is a bit of food, and since I love this community so much, I’ll even give you a discount. I now ask for two satchelfuls of seagrass and one of fish. Hurry and get your shells, friends, while supplies last!”
Twister studied the shell that Dwayne was holding. While all the other animals scurried off to find payment or peppered Dwayne with questions, the hippocampus hung back.
“What are you thinking, Twister?” Tristan asked his friend.
“I’m thinking this is all very suspicious,” Twister said in a low voice. He waved his webbed foot to catch Dwayne’s attention. “Pardon me, Dwayne, but how are we to know that these shells actually work?”
“But they do work,” Flash said. “Dwayne showed us. He swam straight up to a spinner shark and it swam away.”
“A spinner shark?” Tristan scratched his head. “Those are pretty little. You’re sure that might not have had something to do with… well… his size?”
Dwayne wasn’t offended at all by the remark. “Your skepticism is perfectly understandable. However, as Sunny and Flash here can tell you, these shells do work. If you need further proof, my friend, allow me to ask this: where are all the sharks that Flash and Sunny informed me once haunted your delightful reef?”
Tristan looked around. “He’s actually got a point, there, Twister. I don’t see any sharks, and this place was swarming with them before Dwayne got here.”
“Aha! The boy is right!” Dwayne clapped his flippers together. “Now, my dear hippopotamus…”
“Hippocampus,” Twister corrected.
“Yes, of course. I beg your pardon. Now that you have seen it for yourself, perhaps you would like to purchase one of my little baubles? Or perhaps you, small human, should like a sharkbane shell to secure your safety in your soon-to-be subsea stunts?”
“Thanks, but I’m not ready to invest in one yet,” Twister said politely.
“Me either, thanks though,” Tristan added.
“Your loss,” Sunny shrugged. “Hold a sharkbane shell for me, will you Dwayne? I know where to get the best seagrass in the ocean.”
Tristan and Twister left Sunny and Flash to bargain for the shells. The hippocampus still had suspicion written all over his face.
“Well, what do you make of that, Twister?” Tristan asked after Dwayne was out of earshot. “You’ve got to admit, there aren’t any sharks anywhere in sight.”
Twister shook his head. His wispy green mane waved in response. “I can’t deny that the sharks have vanished, but I don’t really think that those so-called ‘sharkbane shells’ caused that. I’ve never heard of a shell that can ward off sharks. Seems like an awful big stretch to me.”
“It does to me, too,” Tristan said, thinking. He knew that some types of shark repellent existed, but he’d never heard of any shells that could serve that purpose. “But… don’t you think it’s at least possible that such a thing exists? Even though I know a lot about the ocean, I still don’t know everything about it.”
“I know a lot more about the ocean, and even I don’t know everything about it,” Twister said. “So, I suppose it’s possible.”
Tristan gave his friend a hard look. They hadn’t been friends for a long time, but he knew Twister well enough to understand what he was thinking. Ever since the hippocampus had saved Tristan from drowning, their friendship and understanding had grown. One look at Twister’s handsome face was enough for Tristan to tell that he was still in doubt.
“You think Dwayne is a con artist,” he said.
“Doesn’t it make sense? Scammers play on strong emotions like fear to get you to do something. There’s a lot of fear going around right now with all the sharks.”
“It does make sense. And my dad always says that if something is too good to be true, it probably is.”
“Good advice. We ought to look into this some more.” Twister patted the sand-colored scales on his belly. “After we have lunch. I never do my best thinking when I’m hungry.”
“But what about the reef? There’s still a bunch of trash floating around.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that too. But right now, I’m more concerned about this Dwayne fellow and his shells. We need to keep our heads sharp, and having some food will help us do that.”
Tristan’s own stomach grumbled its agreement. “Okay. Guess I’d better go home and grab some food, too. But I’ll be right back!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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---------------------------------
After Tristan had left aboard his dinghy, Twister went off to find some food. He went to his favorite grazing grounds, but all of the seagrass had been taken by Dwayne’s enthusiastic customers.
“Aw, fishsticks,” Twister grumbled. “They didn’t even leave me the leftovers!”
He had to swim a few more miles to another patch of seagrass. As he approached, he spotted a green sea turtle nibbling at the plants.
I know her, Twister thought. That’s Chloe.
Suddenly, he saw a large dark shape rise up from behind the sandbar and head straight for the turtle. A tiger shark!
“Chloe! Watch out!” Twister zoomed to her rescue and grabbed her moments before the shark’s powerful jaws snapped her up. The tiger shark realized it had missed, but then it spotted a school of Bermuda chub. Deciding that fish was more tasty than turtle, it swam after the chub.
“Whoa, Jelly,” Twister said. “That was close. You okay, Chloe?” He looked down at Chloe and noticed that she was wearing a sharkbane shell around her neck.
“T-t-twister!” Chloe exclaimed, nearly swooning. “You saved me! You’re my hero!”
“Well, glad to help,” Twister said, hoping that his embarrassment didn’t show. “You’ve gotta be careful, Chloe. Sharks like to hang out around here. You could’ve been eaten!”
“But…” Chloe looked down at the trinket she’d purchased. “But my sharkbane shell was supposed to protect me. Why didn’t it work?”
Twister inspected the shell closely. He hadn’t ever seen anything like it, but now he was certain that it didn’t do what Dwayne claimed it did.
“I’ve gotta be honest with you, Chloe,” Twister said. “I’m not really sure that these things repel sharks all.”
“But if they don’t, then why did all the sharks leave when Dwayne arrived? And Flash and Sunny said they saw it work.” Chole looked at him with big, dismayed eyes. “You don’t think Flash and Sunny would lie, do you?”
“No,” Twister said. “I’ve just got a funny feeling in my fins about this sharkbane shell business. I need to find out what’s going on. Until I do, will you try to stay clear of places that sharks usually hang out?”
“Okay, Twister,” Chloe said obediently. “Anything for you.”
“Thanks.” Twister started to swim away, but then he had one more thought. “Chloe, would you mind if I borrowed your shell?”
“Oh!” Chloe was taken aback. “I don’t know, Twister. With all these sharks around, I’ll need it to protect me.”
Twister gave her a look, and Chloe changed her mind. “You know what, maybe this thing doesn’t protect me that much anyway. You can borrow it, Twister.”
“Thank you, Chloe,” Twister said. “I think I have an idea about how to untangle this mystery.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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---------------------------------
Tristan had just finished his lunch and returned to Key West Harbor when he heard someone calling him.
“Twister!” Tristan exclaimed, looking around.
“Under the deck, Tristan,” Twister said quietly.
Tristan hopped into his dinghy and peered under the wooden boardwalk. He picked out Twister’s blue back in the shade. “Twister! What are you doing here? Someone might see you!”
“I won’t stay long,” Twister whispered. “But I need to ask a favor. Could you do some research and see if you can identify this shell?” He handed over one of the shells that Dwayne had been selling.
“Sure,” Tristan said, inspecting it. “I’ll go ask my friend Sandy. She knows all about shells.”
“Perfect. Thanks, friend.”
“What are you going to do, Twister?”
“I’m going to talk to some of my friends too,” Twister grinned. “Meet me at Paradise Reef in an hour?”
“I’ll be there.”
Twister swam off quietly, and Tristan walked away from his boat. He went to the Surf-N-Scuba shop, which was run by his friend Sandy and her mom.
“Hello, Tristan,” Sandy’s mom said as he came through the door.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Fisher. Is Sandy here?”
“She’s in the back,” Mrs. Fisher said. “You’re welcome to go talk to her.”
Tristan thanked her and went into the back room of the shop. Sandy was sitting at her crafting table making a beautiful necklace out of seashells and wires.
“Tristan! What brings you here?” Sandy exclaimed.
“I need to ask a favor.” Tristan held up the sharkbane shell. “Do you think you could identify this for me?”
Sandy’s eyes popped. Her jaw hung open, and she slowly took the shell like it was an ancient relic. “Where did you find this?”
“Around here.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have.”
Tristan blinked, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”
Sandy held up the shell in the light of the window. Its warm hues of soft gold and pale peach seemed to brighten the whole room. “This is the shell of a harp snail, Harpa harpa to be exact. They are found in the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, and around Australia and Hawaii. But not here.”
“Oh.” Tristan wasn’t sure what else to say. According to Sandy, the “sharkbane shell” was just a regular shell. Maybe Dwayne really was conning everybody.
But that still doesn’t explain why all the sharks suddenly vanished, he thought. I’d better get back to Twister.
“Thank you for your help, Sandy,” Tristan said, taking the shell back.
“Sure thing, Tristan.” Sandy smiled, but Tristan could tell she really wanted to keep the shell.
He smiled back at her. “I need to go talk to someone, but if he doesn’t mind, I’ll give you the shell. You know, as a thank-you gift.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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---------------------------------
Twister was looking for Mack. He needed to ask him what had happened to make all the sharks suddenly clear out. Fortunately, he spotted the big mako shark swimming towards him, on the way back towards Paradise Reef.
“Mack!” Twister exclaimed. “Where did you go?”
Mack grunted and swam past him. “Not say.”
Twister frowned. Sharks didn’t say very much; they used tone and context to get their meaning across. Twister had his suspicions about why his friend was being so tight-lipped.
“Come on, Mack.” Twister twirled around and swam up alongside the shark. “You know I’m a vegetarian. I’m not going to take any of your food.”
Mack looked to the left. Then he looked to the right. “Twister friend,” he said firmly. “Not tell?”
“Your secret is safe with me, pal.”
Mack swam very close to Twister, until his nose nearly brushed the hippocamp’s ear. “Shark find plenty food,” the mako whispered. “Said, ‘Go to Big Channel. Plenty food. Plenty sharks.’”
Big Channel, Twister thought. That’s the shark name for the Boca Grande Channel. That’s a few miles from Key West. So there was food there… but how would they know that unless someone told them? Paradise Reef is a long way from Boca Grande.
“Mack, who told you about the food in Big Channel?” Twister asked.
“Twirling shark,” Mack said. “He lie. No food.” And with that, Mack was done talking, because he turned and swam away without another word. Twister knew that this was how sharks ended conversations, but his mind was too busy to think of that.
“Twirling shark,” he repeated to himself. “Wonder what that means? I’ve never heard of a twirling shark before. Bother, if only I’d had a bite to eat, I might be able to remember.”
He happened upon a patch of floating seaweed that he used for a snack. By then, it was time for him to meet up with Tristan. Twister found the boy and his dinghy back at Paradise Reef.
“You won’t believe this, Twister,” Tristan said, holding up the “sharkbane” shell. “My friend Sandy knew what this was. It’s a harp shell, and she didn’t mention it having any special shark-deterring properties.”
“I’ll believe it,” Twister said. “Now let me tell you what I found out. All the sharks left because they heard there was a bunch of food over at Boca Grande Channel.”
“That’s a long way from here.”
“You’re telling me. This whole business just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
Tristan rubbed his head, as if it ached. “It’s enough to get my head spinning, that’s for sure.”
“Spinning!” Twister’s outburst made Tristan jump. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that before? Mack said that a ‘twirling shark’ told him about the food at Boca Grande. He must have been talking about…”
“…a spinner shark,” Tristan finished. “That makes total sense. Spinner sharks twirl when they’re chasing food.”
“And Flash and Sunny said that Dwayne used a spinner shark in his demonstration.” Twister slapped the water with his bright-colored tail. “I’ll bet my fins they’re working together!”
“We figured it out, Twister,” Tristan said. “Now we need to expose Dwayne.”
“I think I have a better idea.” Twister’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s round up Sunny and Flash and anyone else who bought a shell. If my plan works, Dwayne’s going to expose himself.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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---------------------------------
“Oooof, these fish are heavy,” Dwanye grunted, hefting his satchels over his back. “How’s a fella supposed to make a quick getaway like this? Good thing I already ate the other goods.”
“Heya, boss!” Came a squeaky voice from behind a rock.
“Ah! It wasn’t me!” Dwayne burst out, startled. He frowned when he saw the speaker. “Shrimpy, I told you never to sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry, boss,” said Shrimpy, who was a spinner shark. “Didn’t I do a great job? I sent them sharks on a wild food chase and—“
“Keep your voice down!” Dwayne grumbled. “I don’t pay you to be a historian.”
“Speakin’ of pay…” Shrimpy said. “I want my share of tha loot.”
“Not until we’re out of dodge,” Dwayne snapped.
“But boss… I did what ya asked. And I’m hungry!”
“After we clear out of here! We have to get away before anyone figures out our ruse.”
“Too late for that, Dwayne,” a new voice said. Dwayne and Shrimpy jumped in terror as part of the rock beside them moved. Dark shades fizzled into brilliant blue, seaweed green, and pale sand as Twister appeared. He’d discovered his ability to change the color of his scales a few weeks ago, and smiled at their bewilderment. “A little trick I can do. Pretty neat, eh?”
Dwayne grinned nervously. “Twister, my dear hippopotamus,” he said, trying to sound perfectly at ease. “How… long have you been there?”
“Long enough to confirm my suspicions.” Twister swam slowly towards the two. “Those shells don’t really repel sharks, do they? You just made everyone think they did so you could cheat them out of their food.”
“I resent that remark,” Dwayne huffed. “I’m a reasonable and respectable retailer of real rarities.”
Twister held up the shell Chloe had given him. “This is just a harp shell. Rare, no doubt. But it doesn’t do a thing to repel sharks. Your ‘demonstration’ was staged, and then you sent your spinner shark buddy ahead to tell the other sharks about a food supply far away from here. But of course, that was a trick, too.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Shrimpy blurted, darting behind Dwayne’s bulky form. “Dwayne made me do it!”
“Shrimpy!” Dwayne bellowed furiously.
“Admit it,” Twister snorted. “You’re a con, manatee!”
Dwayne was so angry, his pale gray skin was turning purple. He puffed himself up to appear bigger than his nine-hundred pounds. “Fine. I did make all that up about the shells. What exactly do you intend to do about it, Twister? No one listened to you before. It’s my word against yours; who’s going to believe you?”
“I believe him.” Tristan, clad in his diving gear, swam out from behind another rock.
“Me, too,” Sunny honked, swimming beside him.
“We all do,” Flash added as every creature Dwayne had swindled emerged from their hiding place. “And we ought to have paid attention to him before. Now, we want our money back!”
The other creatures voiced their agreement. Dwayne went pale.
“Sorry, all sales are final!” he yelled. Then he turned tail and swam away as fast as his chubby body could go. Shrimpy took off too.
“They’re getting away!” Tristan exclaimed.
“Not for long!” Twister whinnied. “Hop on!”
Tristan took hold of Twister’s mane and gripped the hippocamp’s sides with his legs. He leaned forward down to Twister’s neck as the sea horse straightened, speeding through the water like an arrow. Within moments, they had overtaken Dwayne.
“Time to talk about your return, Dwayne,” Tristan said. He grabbed hold of the straps that attached the satchels to Dwayne’s body.
“Hey! Hands off my goods!” Dwayne shouted.
Twister seized the strap as well and put on the brakes. The woven seaweed that the strap was made up stretched as Dwayne tried to pull away. Then it snapped. The fish inside the satchels spilled everywhere, and Dwayne was thrown forward. Before he could check himself, a huge net rose to block his path, and the manatee barreled into it. Flash, Sunny, and several other larger sea creatures lifted the net until it hung like a purse, trapping Dwayne.
“Nice work, everyone,” Twister grinned.
“It was Flash’s idea,” Sunny said.
“Don’t celebrate yet!” Chloe’s voice said. “Look! Shrimpy’s getting away!”
The spinner shark was far faster than his manatee partner. “Ha ha! That’s right, suckers! You’ll never catch me!”
Shrimpy turned to make his escape and was almost immediately met by a bigger, stronger, and faster shark.
“Twirling shark lie!” Mack roared. “Not friend. Get!”
A whole school of sharks swarmed up to join the chase. Shrimpy shrieked in terror and tried to swim away. But as a mako, the swiftest shark in the sea, Mack was faster. No matter where Shrimpy tried to swim, Mack was there to cut him off. The other sharks helped herd Shrimpy back towards the others, and Flash and Sunny scooped the little shark up in the net.
“Great job, everyone!” Twister whinnied. “Now, to see about these two troublemakers.”
“Oh, please, please,” Dwayne whimpered, making a pleading face. “Don’t hurt me! You can’t blame a manatee for trying to make a living, can you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with making a living,” Tristan said, quoting his father. “But cheating someone out of their living to make yours is wrong.”
“I agree,” Twister said. “It’s only fair that you return what you took, Dwayne.”
“Oh, Twister, I would love to gove back to the wonderful community of Paradise Reef, honest I would. But… but I already ate all the seagrass. And the sharks are making quick work of the fish.”
Twister glanced down at where Mack and the other sharks were feasting on the fish Dwayne had dropped. He wasn’t sure what to do until Tristan whispered something in his ear.
“Hmm,” Twister said. “So, Dwayne, you want to give back to the community, do you?”
Dwayne nodded eagerly.
“Then I think we have just the thing.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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“Now, don’t forget, Dwayne: cans, bottles, and plastic containers go in the recycle. Everything else is trash.” Sunny was enjoying her new role of supervisor.
“I know! I know!” Dwayne grumbled. He scooped up and old ice cream container and dumped it into the sack that Shrimpy was carrying. “Garbage duty. Whose brilliant idea was this?”
“Ooh, I know this one, boss,” Shrimpy said around the sack. “Yours!”
Dwayne growled at him.
Twister and Tristan watched from a little ways off.
“Community service,” Twister chuckled. “What a brilliant idea, Tristan!”
“I just borrowed it from our own justice system,” Tristan said. “When someone harms the community in my world, they need to pay it back by doing some kind of work to help out. Like cleaning up trash, for instance.”
“Makes sense to me,” Twister said. “And speaking of your world, we ought to get you home. Wouldn’t want you to miss another meal.”
“You can handle Dwayne and Shrimpy alright?”
Twister cast a sly look over to where the con artists were working. Sunny was still barking out instructions, and Flash and Mack were keeping guard in case Dwayne or Shrimpy tried to make a run for it.
“I think they’re covered,” he said with a wink.
| 
Horse Gentler & West Australian | | 2025-04-18 16:43:28 | | PI-RATS OF THE CARIBBEAN
The sapphire-blue waves of the Caribbean were suddenly broken and a joyful whinny split through the sky.
“Yahoo!” Tristan whooped as the hippocampus carried him through the air. They landed in the water with a tremendous splash. The half-horse half-fish pumped his tail fiercely, zooming through the water at an impressive speed. For fun, he rolled over so he was swimming upside down. Then he performed a corkscrew, slowed, and came to the surface.
“Whoo-hoo! What fun!” he neighed. “Your riding skills get better every day, Tristan!”
“Thanks, Twister,” Tristan said, beaming. It had been over a month since Twister had rescued Tristan from drowning, but one would have thought the duo had known each other all their lives. Tristan had learned so much from his aquatic equine friend, including how to ride on Twister’s smooth blue back.
Tristan slid off of Twister and took a look around. Today, they’d ventured east of Key West, where Tristan lived, to the Saddlebunch Keys. Twister preferred to stay away from other humans, and since the Saddlebunches were sparsely populated, it was the perfect place to play.
“Look, Twister! Here comes a pelican,” Tristan said.
The big brown bird flew low over the waves. When it spotted Twister, it altered its course to head straight for them.
“I think that might be Tully,” Twister said, squinting. “Yes! It is Tully!”
Tully swooped over and landed rather gracefully on Twister’s withers, where the hippocamp’s neck met his back. “Howdy, Twister,” he said, giving Twister a playful nip behind the ears. “My, how you’ve grown.”
“Hey! That tickles!” Twister laughed and tossed his head. His clear horn glittered in the light. “Tully, I’d like you to meet Tristan. Tristan, this is Tully.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Tristan said.
“Howdy,” Tully replied, with polite dignity. His pale, glassy eyes sought out Twister’s in an unspoken question.
“Tristan’s my friend,” Twister said. “We met a while back. He’s saved my hide twice now.”
“And you’ve saved mine three times,” Tristan countered. “Or… is it four?”
Tully shook his head, his big beak waving back and forth. “What have you been doing that your hides need so much saving?”
“Oh, just dodging poachers, braving barracudas, and fighting off aggressive sharks. You know, the usual.”
“You young’ns have no caution,” Tully wore a small smile, and his tone was teasing.
Twister smiled sideways at Tristan. “Tully’s always been riding me about being sensible,” he explained.
“How long have you known each other?” Tristan asked.
“Several years,” Tully answered. “But it’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other.”
“It has,” Twister agreed. “Your head was brown back then.”
Tully’s grin widened. Tristan admired the pelican’s white head and the blonde feathers on his crest. Usually that plumage indicated that a pelican had taken a mate.
“And how ‘bout you, Tully?” Twister asked. “What have you been up to while Tristan and I are off endangering ourselves?”
“Starting a family.”
“Wow! Here?”
“Yup.”
“Can we meet them?” Tristan asked. He liked pelicans. Years ago, after a hurricane, he’d rescued a pelican and cared for it until it was ready to go back into the wild.
Tully thought a moment, then nodded. “This way.” He took off, beating his wings and kicking the water with his feet, as if it would give him a boost. Tristan climbed back onto Twister’s back and the hippocampus followed Tully towards the shore. Soon, Tristan spotted a nest snuggled among the mangroves with another brown pelican sitting on it.
“Hazel,” Tully called as he landed. “Visitors.”
“Visitors? Oh, how charming! We never get any visitors these days.” The female pelican spotted Tristan and Twister. “Good heavens! I mean, good gracious… I mean… a human!”
“It’s alright,” Tristan said. “I’m a friend.”
His statement did nothing to stem Hazel’s excitement. “A human who speaks my language? Impossible! I mean… incredible… I mean… how?”
“I taught him,” Twister said with a smile.
Tully nudged his mate, whose beak had dropped in a second round of astonishment. “This is Twister, my dear. Remember?”
“Oh, yes,” Hazel exclaimed. “I remember now. How could I have forgotten? Well, I suppose I just didn’t expect—“
“Mama!” A little voice protested. “You’re sitting on me!”
“I want to see!” said another little voice.
“Me too!” An even smaller voice exclaimed.
“Alright, girls,” Hazel said obligingly. “Don’t get too close to the edge.”
Three fuzzy white heads poked over the edge of the nest. The pelican chicks blinked at the two visitors.
“Horsey!” The littlest one squeaked.
“Mama, what is that thing?” the oldest chick asked, pointing at Tristan. “Why is its beak so little? It’s so weird.”
“Autumn, be polite,” Tully said sternly.
Tristan didn’t mind. “They’re so cute. What are their names?”
“Autumn, Auburn, and Amber,” Hazel said, tapping each of her daughters on the head.
“Wow, Tully. You’re so lucky,” Twister said.
The hippocamp’s tone made Tristan look at his friend. Twister’s green eyes looked at the pelican family with a sad longing. He looked very lonely.
That’s right… Twister has never met his family, Tristan recalled. That must be so hard. I have my Dad, and at least I knew my Mom. Twister doesn’t know either of his parents.
Tully seemed to notice, too. “Twister, you are always welcome in my family,” he said in a fatherly way.
This made Twister smile. “Thank you, Tully. Now, Tristan, I think we ought to get you home for lunch. Your Dad doesn’t like you to miss any meals, you know.”
“How could I forget?” Tristan chuckled. “Let’s go. Nice to meet you, Tully. Bye, Hazel! Bye, Autumn, Auburn, Amber!”
“Bye!” The pelicans chorused as Twister swam off, Tristan on his back.
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Twister brought Tristan back to where the boy had anchored his dinghy. He smiled and waved at the boy with a webbed foot until Tristan was out of sight. Then a cloud of sadness settled on his head.
I really miss my family, Twister thought. I wish I could remember them.
He didn’t know much about the day he’d been separated from his family. He remembered fighting the orca that wanted to attack them, but beyond that, nothing. Twister knew he’d been knocked unconscious before being found by Mrs. G, the nurse shark who had raised him. But he only knew that because she’d told him.
I wish she had more to tell me.
The ocean suddenly seemed very big and very lonely. Twister longed for some company. His dolphin friend, Flash, wasn’t around, as he was swimming with his own family. Sunny, the Galápagos Penguin who’d moved to Key West for climate reasons might be available… but she wasn’t the best companion when one needed cheering up. Then he had a thought that made him glad.
There’s one family I know I’m welcome in, he smiled, even if we’re not the same species.
He turned around to head back to the Saddlebunch Keys. After a few minutes, he was surprised to see Tully flying towards him. When the pelican landed, Twister knew immediately that something was wrong.
“Tully! What’s the matter?”
“It’s my daughter, Amber,” Tully quivered. “She’s missing. Hazel and I left the nest for just a few moments, and— and—”
“Calm down, Tully.” Twister patted his friend’s back, but he felt a sense of urgency himself. “I’ll help you find her. She can’t have gone far.”
“No, Twister. I think someone may have taken her.”
Taken her! Twister snorted with sudden anger. “Let’s go!”
Twister swam at top speed all the way back to Tully’s nest. Hazel was crying, and Autumn and Auburn were too frightened to move.
“It’s okay, Hazel. We’ll get Amber back,” Twister said. Then he turned to Tully for answers. “Do you remember what happened before you realized Amber was missing?”
Tully shook his head. “Nothing. Hazel and I never let the nest out of our sight. It couldn’t have been a predator. We would have seen it!”
“Hold on.” Twister was certain he’d heard something. His ears swiveled, trying to pinpoint the noise above the sloshing waves. Faintly, a tiny voice registered with his senses.
“Let me go! Help! Daddy!”
“I hear her!” Twister exclaimed. “She’s this way, come on!”
Tully took off in earnest, following Twister like an airplane after a submarine. As he swam, Twister began to sense that they might need Tristan’s help. The boy had been extremely useful in their past adventures, and he had the added benefit of the ability to go on land.
“Tully!” Twister called. “We need Tristan. Get a seagull to tell him what’s happened and where we’re going.”
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Tristan sat on the front porch of his home, taking the last bites of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Suddenly, a seagull landed on the chair next to him.
“Cree-cree!” she said. “I have a message for Tristan, a very important message for Tristan, a very urgent message for— ooh! Breadcrumbs!” The seagull began to peck at the crumbs left from Tristan’s sandwich. “Mmmmmmm, whole wheat. My favorite!”
“Hey!” Tristan said, pulling his plate away. “Message first, then you can have all the crumbs you’d like.”
“Oh! Yes. Right. I almost forgot. I do have a message. You know how it is, I see some breadcrumbs and I simply must eat them, especially if they’re whole wheat.”
“Okay, but what was the message?”
“Twister told me to bring it to you,” the seagull replied. “He was playing hide-and-seek with Tully’s daughters, and now he lost them.”
“What?” Tristan exclaimed. Then he remembered what Twister had told him about seagulls. They were chattery, scatterbrained birds who could barely keep one idea straight in their minds. They were also prone to gossip and exaggeration, so their messages were rarely true to the original. By using his own brain, Tristan reasoned that Twister had sent a seagull because something was wrong, and it had to do with Tully’s family. He nodded at the gull. “I understand. Thank you, gull. Here are the rest of the crumbs.”
“Cree-cree! Happy to be of delicious… I mean service. Thank you, bye, good morning!”
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Twister stared at a tangle of driftwood, seaweed, and debris that was as big as a beaver dam hanging in the mangroves. He wanted to take a closer look, but the tide was too low for him to get near without getting beached. Tully perched on his back, shifting restlessly.
The buzz of a motor announced Tristan’s arrival. “Twister! Tully! What happened?” the boy asked.
“Amber…” Tully’s voice quivered.
“She’s in there,” Twister said, pointing at the enormous tangle. “We think someone kidnapped her, but neither Tully nor I can get in there to find out what.”
Tristan was astounded. Who - or what - would kidnap a baby pelican? And why? “I’ll take a look,” he said, tossing his anchor overboard. He swam to shore, and climbed along the mangrove roots to inspect the enormous, tangled mass.
“Amber?” he called. Nothing. He jerked some of the mess aside.
An angry squeak answered him.
Tristan stumbled backwards as a dark, furry body squirmed out of the hole he’d just made. Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan spotted something round and shiny that had fallen from the debris. Instinctively he grabbed it, slipped it into his pocket, and retreated into the water as three rats emerged from the pile. One enormous black rodent climbed to the top of the pile to glower at the intruders. Shaggy, matted fur on his neck gave him a lionlike appearance, and his huge yellow teeth stuck out from a pink mouth.
“Who dares disturb the lair of Captain Ratbeard?” He said in a rough, salty voice.
Tristan shuddered, ducking behind Twister’s shoulder. He’d been bitten by a rat when he was little and had gotten very sick. Twister pinned his ears back.
“We’re here for Amber, the pelican chick,” the hippocampus said evenly.
“Ho-hum!” The big rat said. “Ye hear that, mates? They’ve come for the little pelican whelp!”
The nest quivered, suddenly crawling with rats. Nearly fifty beasts emerged from the vegetation to gibber at Twister, Tristan, and Tully. The rat who called himself “Captain Ratbeard” was twice as large as any of them.
“That’s right,” Tully interjected, sounding braver. “I want my daughter back.”
“Ho-ho! I’m sure ye do.” Captain Ratbeard rubbed his grimy paws together and grinned. “But nothin’s free out here on the seas, eh? A pi-rat’s got to earn his livin’, right lads?”
“Aye, Captain!” the rats chorused.
“Who are you?” Tully demanded. “What do you want with my daughter?”
“Who am I? Who am I?!” The big rat was offended. “I be the great Captain Ratbeard! The first rat to sail the seas in me own boat! The first rat to cross over to Scotland by the English Channel! The first rat to round Cape Horn of India!”
“Cape Horn is in South America,” Twister snorted.
Ratbeard glared at him. “If Captain Ratbeard say it be in India, in India it be!” He clapped his paws again. “Look alive, mateys! Show these wretched swabs the greatness of Captain Ratbeard!”
With another round of “aye, Captain!”, the rats began to twist and turn in a terrifying jig. Some of them even clapped.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Twister grumbled. “They better not sing.”
But that’s exactly what they did. The rats broke out into a raucous, but rather catchy shanty:
“None compare to great Ratbeard,
The scourge of Hamelin and the seas,
No Pi-rat lived that was more feared,
Or had more lice and mange and fleas!
Yo-ho-ho! He fears no foe!
No rat is more revered;
Yo-ho-ho! Soon all will know,
The name of Captain Ratbeard!”
Ratbeard smirked at the praise of his subjects. He eyed his three guests. “Now ye know who I be. And don’t ye forget it!”
“We don’t care who you are,” Twister said. “You have my friend’s daughter in there. We’re here to get her back.”
“And we’re not leaving until we do,” Tristan added. He hoped he didn’t sound as scared as he felt. The sight of this many rats was enough to unnerve anyone.
“Ha-har!” Ratbeard laughed, his yellow teeth flashing. “Ye’ll never find ‘er in my nest, not in a jillion years! If ye want the little brat, ye’ll have to pay ‘er ransom… fifty pounds o’ the finest cheddar!”
The other rats hooted and hollered excitedly. Their leader grinned wickedly. “Ye’ve got three days to pay up… or else.”
Tully gasped, and Ratbeard’s grin got even bigger. “Bring the loot to that point, yonder. Don’t come back until ye have it, or the little pelican goes to the sharks. Now off with ye!”
Tristan felt Twister’s muscles ripple beneath his hand. The hippocampus wanted to take the rats on. But Tristan knew that this many rodents could be very dangerous. If Twister accidentally beached himself, he would be an easy target for dozens and dozens of gnawing yellowed teeth.
“Twister, we need to think,” Tristan said, tugging on Twister’s wispy green mane. “Let’s go.”
Twister hesitated, looking at Tully. But the rats were advancing towards them now, and the pelican shook his head. “He’s right,” Tully said, defeatedly. “Let’s go.”
The rats’ mocking laughter followed them nearly all the way back to Tully’s nest. The three friends floated there together in silence, thinking. Hazel’s sobs could barely be heard over the breeze.
Twister broke the quiet with a fierce splash of his tail. “We have to do something,” he declared firmly.
“There’s only one thing to do, Twister,” Tully said solemnly. “I’ll find a way to pay Ratbeard. I have to get Amber back.”
“We’ll help, Tully,” Tristan said. He thought about how much money he had saved up. Amber’s life would be well worth the expense, but he wasn’t sure if he had enough to buy fifty pounds of the finest cheddar. He didn’t even know where to get fifty pounds of the finest cheddar.
“But if we pay Ratbeard, he still might not give her back.” Twister swam to and fro, bobbing his head in agitation. “And then he’ll know that kidnapping works. He’ll do it again, to you or to someone else. We have to rescue Amber ourselves and get rid of Ratbeard.”
“But what can we do?” Tully said. “We can’t get into that nest. We don’t even know she’s in there.”
“I can figure that out,” Twister said. “It’ll be high tide before long. I’ll be able to get close enough to listen in on the rats.”
“No!” Tully burst out. “If Ratbeard sees you, he’ll hurt Amber.”
“He won’t see me. Watch.” Twister closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he fizzled out of view! Tully’s eyes popped.
“Twister’s still there, Tully,” Tristan explained. “He can change the color of his scales to match his surroundings.”
As Twister shifted his scales back to normal, Tully shook his head. “I can’t go through with this, Twister. I can’t lose Amber. You don’t know what it’s like to fear that you’ll lose a child.”
Twister’s green eyes suddenly filled with sadness and longing. “No, I don’t,” he said quietly. “But I do know what it’s like to lose someone you love. That’s why we have to stop Ratbeard for good, so he can’t take anyone else from their family.”
A sigh of resignation escaped Tully’s beak. “Alright, Twister. But please, please, be careful.”
“I will, Tully.” Next, the hippocampus looked at Tristan. “Can you work on a way to get rid of the rats?”
“Yes,” Tristan said, though he had no idea how to do that.
“Great. I’ll send you a seagull when I’m done. Then we’ll meet right back here.”
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Poor Tully. That was all Tristan could think as he boated back to Key West. He knew he had to find a way to get rid of the rats, but how? Trapping would take too much time. Poison was out of the question.
Besides, Twister and I can’t take all those rats ourselves, Tristan thought as he drove into the harbor. We need help from another human. But how would I get them to help? Pirate rats kidnapping a pelican chick in exchange for cheese sounds like a TV show. Who would believe me?
“BOOTLEG!”
The harsh, grating holler startled every pigeon and seagull nearby. Even Tristan rubbed his ears after the unpleasant sound.
Simon Washbuckler, he thought angrily. I’d know that awful voice anywhere.
To everyone else on Key West, Simon Washbuckler and his crew were marine biologists, here to study the Caribbean marine life. But their real purpose was to capture Twister, whom they had chased all the way from Hawaii, and Tristan was the only human who knew it. Since he couldn’t expose Washbuckler without also revealing Twister’s existence, Tristan’s best course of action was to figure out what the portly poacher was up to and warn the hippocampus. He tied up his dinghy and walked over to where Washbuckler’s big white boat was moored.
The first thing he noticed was a giant vacuum sitting on the deck. The next thing he saw was a tall, muscular man on his hands and knees, like a kid who’d just dropped his entire marble collection.
“Bootleg, hurry up! I don’t have time for your bumbling!” Simon Washbuckler stomped impatiently.
“B-b-but Captain,” the giant man whimpered, “I dropped my Thee-Dees, and—“
“Stop your blabbering! Get my vacuum on board. We have treasure to hunt for!”
“Good afternoon,” Tristan called, summoning all his politeness. “Need a hand?”
Washbuckler started like a thief caught red-handed. “What? Who? Wasn’t me… oh, it’s you.” He aimed a scathing glare at Tristan. “What do you want, Thompson?”
“It’s Tristan.” The words came out as a growl, but Tristan managed to hide it with a cough. “Just thought you might like some help, is all.”
“Yeth, pleathe!” Bootleg cried before Washbuckler could say anything. “I lotht my Thee-Dees. They fell in the water. I jutht made them, and they’re my favoriteth!”
Tristan wondered what a “Thee-Dee” was until he remembered that Bootleg spoke with a lisp. “Oh, you mean CDs. Sure, not a problem.” He strapped on his diving mask and hopped into the water. At the bottom of the harbor he found three CDs, each one marked “Beach Boys Concert.” He brought them back to Bootleg, who clapped with delight.
“Oh, thank you, thank you! Thank you tho much… uhhh, what wath your name again?”
“Never mind that!” Washbuckler growled, stomping away to attend to other business. “Get my vacuum on board and let’s go!”
Tristan helped Bootleg with the large, cumbersome piece of equipment. He wondered what Washbuckler wanted with a vacuum. “Doing some spring cleaning?”
Bootleg stared at him. “Thpring cleaning? But it’th thummer.”
“We’re going treasure hunting,” a new voice said. Tristan looked up to see that Jessica, Washbuckler’s niece, had appeared on the boat’s deck. Her usual sour expression had been replaced with one of excitement. “I read that there’s millions of dollars lying at the bottom of the ocean out there. Did you know that lots of Spanish galleons sailed through here? Or that the people of Key West got rich by salvaging ships that wrecked on the reefs? There’s sooo much history out there!”
And you want to suck it up with a vacuum? Tristan felt like asking. He hadn’t been interested in treasure-hunting since he was ten, but he remembered that one had to be very careful in order to preserve the historical artifacts hidden at the sea floor. Using a vacuum hardly seemed like the best way to preserve anything.
At least they’re not after Twister today, he thought.
“JESS!” Washbuckler’s voice bellowed from somewhere inside the ship. “Quit wasting my time! We have money to— I mean, treasure to hunt! If that Thompson kid is still here, tell him to go home!”
“No need,” Tristan muttered before saying goodbye. He walked home and sat on the porch, angry at himself for wasting so much time. He should have been making a plan to get rid of the rats and save Amber.
Haphazardly, his hand felt over his pocket, and he remembered the object that he’d picked up after it had fallen out of Ratbeard’s nest. He pulled it out to inspect it, and went numb.
A Spanish real! Tristan admired the coin, which was worn and dirty, but still recognizable. He remembered that the Spanish had used these coins in their New World colonies in the 1700s. He wondered how Ratbeard had come by it.
Given his whole “pi-rat” mindset, he’s probably a hunter of treasure, Tristan thought.
Just like someone else I know.
A light bulb went on in Tristan’s head. Could it actually work? A vacuum might be just the thing to demolish that nest enough to force the rats out.
No. It’s crazy, he told himself. That kind of plan would only work in cartoons.
He rubbed his head and leaned back in his patio chair. So far, this whole day had resembled a weird children’s story. Maybe a cartoonish problem needed a cartoonish solution.
Better see what Twister thinks.
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Two hours later, Tristan returned to meet with his friends. Tully was still consumed with worry over Amber, but Twister was ready for action.
“I think it’s brilliant,” the hippocampus declared. “A crazy plan for a crazy problem. And I learned that nearly all of the rats hang out in a big room near the ocean. That’d be the first place Washbuckler would hit with the vacuum.”
“But what if this fellow accidentally sucks up Amber?” Tully protested. “She’ll be hurt badly, or worse!”
“Then we’ll get them to bring her out of the nest,” Twister said. “We’ll make Ratbeard think we’re going to give him the cheese he wants. I bet some painted styrofoam would do the trick… if he thinks that the English Channel is in Scotland, I’m certain he’ll fall for a phony piece of parmesan.”
“My dad has some old cans of yellow paint,” Tristan jumped in. “He won’t mind if I use them.”
“Sounds splashing!” Twister said. “Now we just need to get Washbuckler over here. I hope he’s in the mood for chasing me.”
Tully’s head shot up. He stared at Tristan with an anxious expression that said, “I thought you were the only human Twister knows.” The boy shook his head slightly, hoping he could explain later.
“I’d rather you not, Twister,” Tristan said aloud. “It’s too risky.”
Twister tossed his head. “I’ve outwitted him before. What’s one more time?”
“I agree with Tristan,” Tully said solemnly. “I don’t want to lose someone else that I care about.”
The proud confidence drained out of Twister’s face, replaced with sadness. It was as if he’d suddenly remembered that he’d lost something that meant a lot to him. “Alright,” he said in a subdued way, “do you have another suggestion?”
Tristan fingered the Spanish real he’d found. He remembered Washbuckler’s greedy face he talked about treasure. He also recalled that Washbuckler rented a house on Key West when he wasn’t out searching the ocean. Plus, one of Tristan’s best friends lived in the house just behind the rental.
Joey and I always talked about treasure-hunting when we were little, Tristan thought. An idea was bubbling in his head.
“I bet I can get Washbuckler here,” Tristan announced. “And I’ve got the perfect bait.”
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It was approaching sunset by the time Tristan got home. Twister planned to rescue Amber as soon as everything was ready, and it all depended on Tristan. He hated to think of the tiny chick sitting in Ratbeard’s dark, smelly nest, so he worked swiftly. As he ate dinner, he scrawled out a letter detailing the location where he had “found” the treasure. The message was addressed to his friend Joey, but it was really meant for Washbuckler. To make it extra convincing, he decided to send the Spanish real along with the letter.
It was a cool find, Tristan thought as he slipped the coin into the envelope. But it won’t make me rich. Besides, Amber is way more important than a bunch of money.
He didn’t usually ride his bike, but time was of the essence, so he pedaled down to Bahama Village, where Washbuckler’s rental was located. Tristan was relieved that no one was home yet, so he looked around, slipped the letter into the mailbox and hastened away.
I hope he takes the bait, and soon, Tristan thought. Now, let’s see about painting that styrofoam Twister brought to me.
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“Complete waste of time.” Washbuckler smashed a fist on the desk. He, Jessica, and Bootleg had returned to the rental home after dark with absolutely nothing to show for their trouble. “Useless vacuum! What good is anything if it won’t make me money? I should have come back with a whole truckload of treasure!”
On the couch, Bootleg was giggling like a tickled child. He was going through the mail, which he found as entertaining as his Beach Boys recordings.
“Thethe comicth are tho funny!” the giant man snorted. “Uhhh, hey Captain! You gotta thee thethe!”
Washbuckler stomped over and snatched the paper out of Bootleg’s big hands. “These are car ads, you buffoon,” he growled. “I don’t have time for all this useless junk mail. Get rid of it!”
Bootleg’s face fell. Obediently, he scooped up all the mail and carried it to the trash can. All the mail, except one letter that was addressed incorrectly. Washbuckler noticed that there was something small and circular contained in the envelope. Greedy curiosity glittered across his face. Ignoring the fact that opening mail addressed to someone else is illegal, he tore open the envelope and emptied its contents.
“A gold doubloon!” Washbuckler exclaimed with a squeaky gasp. “I’m rich!”
Jessica, who had earlier been sketching in her journal, tromped over to see. “No, it’s not,” she frowned. “The markings are wrong. This looks like a Spanish real.”
Washbuckler was too busy reading the letter to take his niece’s correction. He pored over the writing as fast as he could.
Dear Joey,
I know it’s been a while since we went treasure hunting, but I found this in a big tangle of garbage in the Saddlebunch Keys. It looks really valuable, and I bet there’s more treasure in there. Bring your metal detector and meet me at these coordinates…
“Ha!” Washbuckler said triumphantly. “The fool even told me exactly where to go! Well, first come, first serve, I always say! BOOTLEG! Pack up my vacuum! We’re going out again!”
Bootleg glanced out at the darkness. “B-b-but Captain! It’th nighttime!”
“Stop making excuses and do what I say! We have treasure to hunt!”
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Twister floated in the water, watching, listening. He could see perfectly in the dark, but from this distance he could barely make out Ratbeard’s nest. He glared at it.
You’re lucky I can’t go on land, he snorted softly. If I could, I’d tear that trashy nest of yours into tiny bits.
Twister could hear the rats laughing and arguing over some type of game. He hoped that Tristan would be here soon so they could put their plan into motion and save poor Amber. Twister thought that now would be an ideal time to pull off their trick, but they couldn’t do that until Washbuckler was on the way with his vacuum. Tully would keep an eye on the poacher’s boat and warn them when he was coming.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of Tristan’s dinghy zooming through the night. Quietly, in the off-chance that the rats could see him, he slipped underwater and hurried to meet his friend.
“Tristan!” His head shot out of the water. “Thank goodness you— oh! Ughhh…” Twister dunked his nose back beneath the waves to escape the awful odor.
“Sorry, Twister,” Tristan said. “I remembered rats have a good sense of smell. I don’t want Ratbeard to see through our hoax so… I sorta smeared some smelly cheese on the styrofoam.”
Twister eyed the block of styrofoam, now painted yellow, that was their fake cheese. “Where did you find something that smells that awful?”
Tristan worried a finger through his hair, looking embarrassed. “Ummm… in my neighbor’s garbage bin.”
Wingbeats announced the arrival of a brown pelican. Tully landed on Tristan’s dinghy.
“Washbuckler is on his way,” he announced.
Twister forgot about Tristan’s confession immediately. “You’re certain?”
Tully nodded.
“Great. We need to time this carefully.” Twister looked around. “We want to get Amber just before Washbuckler arrives. Tully, how far out do you think he is?”
“Thirty minutes.”
That was plenty of time, so they went over the plan again. Tristan and Tully would get Amber back from Ratbeard; Twister would remain camouflaged and help if he was needed. If he saw them, Washbuckler wouldn’t pay any attention to Tristan and Tully, but he would definitely try to chase Twister.
“I hear his boat,” Twister announced after a while.
“I see it,” Tully concurred.
“Right. Let’s do this.” Tristan took a deep breath, then regretted it as rotten Limburger cheese filled his nostrils. He shoved the reeking styrofoam onto a piece of driftwood and towed it towards the meeting place. Tristan was immediately grateful that Washbuckler would not be able to spot them from here.
“Ahoy!” A lookout rat squeaked from the mangroves. “Who goes there?”
“I’ve brought the cheese for your captain,” Tully replied. He was trying desperately to hide how scared he was. “Now, let my daughter go.”
Skitter-skitter-scurry, went tiny rodent feet. In the moonlight, Tristan made out a flat piece of wood scooting lazily towards them. Ratbeard stood in the front of the makeshift boat, and ten rats did a poor job of rowing it forward. In the middle of them was Amber!
“Daddy!” The little pelican cried.
“It’s alright, Amber,” Tully said. “Be brave just a little bit longer.”
Ratbeard sniffed and grinned his wicked grin. “Fifty pounds of the finest cheddar! I didn’t expect ye would bring it so quickly!” He rubbed his grimy paws together, scheming. “This little bird brat must be quite valuable, hmm?”
Tully blanched, and Tristan felt a sinking feeling in his chest.
“I’ve changed me mind,” Ratbeard sneered. “Hand over the loot, and bring me another fifty pounds. Then you can have your patch of feathers back!”
“Wait!” Tully protested. “That wasn’t the deal!”
“I be the captain here! The deal be whatever I say it be!” Ratbeard lunged off his boat and landed on the raft carrying the styrofoam before anyone knew what was happening. The rodent’s beady eyes gleamed in anger moments later.
“Fake!” He hissed. “Ye dare to swindle Captain Ratbeard? ATTACK!”
“Catch, Tully!” Twister’s voice shouted at the same moment. Two seconds of stunned silence followed before the rats’ boat rocketed skyward, impaled on Twister’s glassy horn. The rats squeaked in terror, holding on to the boat, but Amber kept floating towards the sky, propelled by the momentum.
Tully whooshed into action. He winged upward and, with incredible precision, caught the little chick in his big beak. Two rats grabbed his leg, dragging him down, but he shook them off, and the raft splashed back into the ocean.
“Get Amber to safety, Tully!” Twister called. His tail went SLOO-WOOSH, capsizing the makeshift boat.
Ratbeard and two of his minions managed to clamber aboard the dinghy. They raced at Tristan, teeth bared. The boy shoved his fear down, picked up his sandal, and whacked one into the ocean. His second opponent lunged to bite Tristan’s hand, but Tristan dodged and delivered another resounding blow with his shoe.
The water churned as Twister swam, dousing the rats in wave after wave of seawater. One rodent tried to jab at him with its makeshift oar, but Twister knocked the weapon aside with his own horn.
“Fools! No one crosses Captain Ratbeard!” The giant rat stood imperiously on the edge of Tristan’s dinghy. His furry face was etched with fury. “This is not over! Ye will rue the day when—“
SLOO-WOOSH!
Captain Ratbeard was swept away by one of Twister’s tail-waves. The hippocampus flashed a grin at Tristan. “That’s all of them. Let’s go!”
Tristan cranked up the motor, drowning out the furious squeaking. As he and Twister sped away, he shot a glance towards the rats’ nest, and noticed with satisfaction that Washbuckler had arrived, vacuum at the ready.
Washbuckler hadn’t noticed the noise happening a hundred yards away. He was busy thinking about how rich he was about to be… and he paid Jessica no mind when she mentioned the commotion to him.
“Look! There it is!” he cried, rubbing his hands together. “The tangle of junk that the bone-headed letter writer described! Bootleg! Is my vacuum ready?”
“Uhhh, ready, Captain!” Bootleg said. He held the nozzle in his giant hands and was grinning goofily.
The vacuum whirred to life, whooshing as it sucked in air. Bootleg aimed at the nest, and objects clattered and snapped and squished and hissed as they were whisked into the machine. Then furry bodies tumbled into the open, squeaking.
“A-ahhh!” Washbuckler shrieked from the deck. “Rats!”
“R-r-rath!” Bootleg lisped in terror. He tried to retreat.
“Bootleg! Don’t be a coward! Get my treasure!” Washbuckler roared above the noise. Then he fled inside.
Poor Bootleg was more terrified of disobeying his captain than of the rats. Feebly, he shooed at them with the nozzle; with a SHLOOM! and a THONK! four of them were sucked into the vacuum.
One very large, very shaggy rat suddenly charged into view, squeaking furiously at the damage done to his home. He waved his paws, as if he was ordering the others about. No one listened.
SHLOOM-THONK! SHLOOM-THONK! More rats disappeared into the machine. The big rat bared his teeth and raced towards Bootleg. The big man let out a terrified yelp and thrust the vacuum head forward.
SHLOOM-THONK! Just like that, Ratbeard was gone.
In the end, Ratbeard’s entire nest was destroyed, sucked up by Bootleg. Washbuckler never got his treasure; no one dared to open the vacuum drum for fear of all the rats inside. Instead, they left the whole vacuum on a bare island, surrounded by miles of open ocean in every direction. Ratbeard squeaked out his fury until he lost his voice, Washbuckler lamented his bad luck for days, and Jessica imagined how hilarious this misadventure would be as a cartoon.
But for Twister, Tristan, and a certain pelican family, everything was back to normal. Wonderful, blissful normal. |
Horse Gentler & West Australian | | 2025-06-24 00:21:17 | | TWISTER AND SHOUT
“Careful, Flash! It might be dangerous.”
Flash the dolphin hardly believed that the piece of white plastic was going to hurt him. He poked at it with his nose, curious.
“I don’t think it’s dangerous, Sunny,” he said to his friend. “In fact, it looks like Twister.”
Twister was a hippocampus, half horse, half fish. This mystery object had a ring-shaped body - which wasn’t like Twister at all - and it lacked a pair of forelegs with webbed feet. But when the waves ebbed in just the right way, the creature’s head expanded and bore a startling resemblance to Twister’s. Unblinking eyes and a perpetual smile were etched in black on its face. It even had a horn growing out of its forehead, although it was gold instead of clear.
Sunny honked an indignant note. She was a Galápagos penguin who had moved to Key West for “climate reasons”, and she was suspicious of everything new.
“It looks nothing like Twister,” she argued. “He’s blue!”
“Twister can change the color of his scales,” Flash reminded her. “Besides, who’s to say that every hippocampus looks the same?”
“Every hippocampus?” Sunny echoed. “How do you know there are more? Twister’s the only one anyone’s ever seen.”
Flash gave her a sharp look. “Because Twister didn’t just pop out of the seabed. He must have family somewhere. Didn’t that old penguin in your colony say he’d been rescued by a hippocampus when he was a chick?”
Sunny tilted her head, thinking back to the day she’d met Twister. “Yes, but Bobby’s memory wasn’t, I mean, he tended to, uhh… all I’m saying is we should be careful!”
“Hey!” said a new voice. Flash and Sunny turned to see Twister swimming towards them. He was much more spectacular than the lolling white shape on the sand, with his wavy green mane, flashing tail, and intelligent green eyes. He was, naturally, accompanied by his human friend, Tristan. “What’s up, you two?”
“Flash thinks this piece of garbage is related to you,” Sunny blurted, waving a flipper at the mystery hippocampus.
Twister blinked in pure astonishment. “Excuse me?”
“I know what that is,” Tristan said. He swam down to the seabed and picked the item up. “It’s a pool float.”
“A what?” Sunny said unenthusiastically.
“A pool float. You fill it with air, then sit on it to stay afloat on the water’s surface. Pool floats can look like boats, animals, or rings.” He inspected a long gash at the base of the toy unicorn’s neck. “I bet this fell off someone’s boat and got cut up. That’s why it’s full of water instead of air.”
“Interesting,” Flash said. “I guess it makes sense that humans would need help to stay in the water.”
Tristan smiled. “I suppose so. Anyway, I better take this back home and dispose of it.”
“Wait,” Twister blurted, making everyone jump. “Could I maybe… if you’re really just gonna throw it away, could I… keep it?”
Twister didn’t like collecting human-made things, but Flash knew exactly why the hippocampus was asking. The dolphin felt a jab of sympathy for his friend.
Twister misses his family, the dolphin thought.
Flash had a whole pod of friends and family waiting for him anytime. Sunny was a long way from her home, but she still had parents and siblings who loved her if she returned. Tristan had lost his Mom, but he’d known her, and he still had his Dad. Twister didn’t have anyone. He’d been raised by Mrs. G, a nurse shark, and although he adored her, he still longed for his true parents, his true family.
Tristan seemed puzzled by Twister’s request, but Flash gave him a significant look and the boy understood. “Sure thing, Twister. I could even patch it up for you if you’d like.” He swam back to his dinghy and fixed the gash with a strip of duct tape. Then he showed Twister how to fill up the toy with air by blowing into the valve.
“I suppose you could fill it with water, too,” Tristan said.
Twister held the pool float, looking at it like it was a diamond necklace. “Thank you, Tristan. This means a whole lot.”
“Um, sure.” Tristan looked at his watch. “I should probably head home. It’s almost lunchtime, and Dad needs me to clean house today. Thanks for the swim, Twister.”
“Anytime, pal,” Twister said with a wink and a grin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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“Barb! What is the meaning of this?!” Simon Washbuckler roared. “I have very important business to attend to, and you are interrupting!”
Many things made the short, stubby man angry, and being woken up from his midday nap was one of them. Another was the incompetence of his crew. They had spent a whole month here, chasing the elusive Sea Unicorn, whose capture would bring instant wealth. Twice Washbuckler had nearly had the beast in his grasp, but every time the creature had escaped. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the ruse that he and his crew were marine biologists. He needed a new plan to catch the Sea Unicorn. He needed…
“STOP THAT TERRIBLE RACKET!” Washbuckler thundered. He marched out of his cabin onto the deck of his boat, trying to find what had disturbed his sleep. Squinting against the light, he spotted one of his crew members bringing something aboard. Something covered, cylindrical, and noisy. Washbuckler scowled. “Barb! I demand to know what this is!”
Barb smiled a sly, snakelike smile. “My greatest plan yet,” he said smoothly. With long, bony fingers, he pulled the cloth down to reveal a cage with an animal inside.
“A parrot?” Washbuckler barked. “What do you think this is, a pirate ship?! I don’t have any use for messy, noisy birds!” The parrot squawked, as if insulted.
“On the contrary,” Barb said, “this bird is exactly what we need. Come inside, and I will explain.”
Washbuckler grumbled, but he allowed Barb to bring the cage inside, where they couldn’t be heard by any passersby. Jessica, Washbuckler’s niece, stared in wonder at the bird.
“A scarlet macaw!” she exclaimed. Her usual sourness was forgotten as she admired the red, blue, and gold feathers. “He’s so pretty!”
“Pre-tty!” The macaw concurred loudly.
“Obnoxious and useless, more like it,” Washbuckler growled.
Barb scowled as he spread out a map of the waters around Key West. “We know that the Sea Unicorn is a creature of habit. Given recent sightings, it appears that he is most usually present in these quadrants.” He tapped on the map, where a cluster of red X’s had been marked. “Naturally, he will follow his food source, which makes it all the more likely to find him here.”
“What does this have to do with that tuft of feathers?” Washbuckler snapped.
“FEA-THERS!” The macaw nearly shouted. Jessica snorted down her laughter.
“That ‘tuft of feathers’ is going to be our eyes in the sky,” Barb replied coldly. “I have diligently trained it to recognize the Sea Unicorn. Observe…” He pulled out a set of pictures and held them up to the bird one at a time. First, a dolphin. Then a pelican. Then… a picture of Twister.
“Sea Horse! Sea Horse!” The parrot flapped and shouted wildly until Barb took the picture away. He held up another series of pictures, interspersed with images of Twister in various colors. At the sight of the hippocampus, the macaw would screech and flap and didn’t stop until Barb took the picture away.
“I have had a tracking chip inserted into this bird,” Barb said. “It is trained to circle whenever it sees the Sea Unicorn, and to stay on him until he’s out of sight. Let’s see how that crafty sea creature does with two pairs of eyes looking for him.”
“Genius,” Washbuckler laughed. “Absolutely genius! I amaze myself sometimes. JESS! Start up the engines. We’re going to put my new plan into action!”
He earned a scowl from his niece and from Barb, but didn’t notice. Jessica put down her book and moved to obey, but her face softened when she looked at the macaw. “What’s his name?” she asked.
“It doesn’t have a name,” Barb said roughly. “That bird is a tool, not a pet.”
“Name, name. Pet, pet,” the macaw repeated. He was practically begging to be given a name.
Jessica thrust out her chin and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m going to call him Shout, because he’s so noisy,” she said defiantly. “So deal with it.”
“Childish nonsense,” Barb hissed. He pointed a bony finger at her. “Stay out of my way. You are not going to ruin my plans by making a pet out of my hard work.”
Jessica stomped away and started up the engines. She was furious.
Finally we have an animal on board, and I’m not even allowed to play with it, she stewed. Pooh on Barb and his tracking! I hope he falls into to ocean on top of a tiger shark.
She tried to make herself feel better by recalling facts about scarlet macaws. They were native to Latin and South America, primarily in the Amazon Rainforest. They liked to eat fruit, nuts, and seeds, and they could live up to fifty years in the wild, and ninety years in captivity.
Fifty years flying free… or ninety years in a cage.
Now that she thought about it, she would have infinitely preferred Shout remaining in the wild than seeing him locked in a cage, only coming out when Barb wanted him to. Jessica remembered being confined to her room when she was grounded, only coming out to eat. Was that what it was like for Shout? Was that what it would be like for the Sea Unicorn if her uncle caught him?
Maybe Barb’s plan won’t work, Jessica thought. Then both the Sea Unicorn and Shout can go free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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---------------------------------
“I’m going to call you Rainbow,” Twister said, “Rainbow, for your colorful mane and tail.”
He’d taken the pool float back to his key, a remote island protected by rocks and strong currents. Bright sunlight smiled down on the calm lagoon, bordered by rocks on one side and a smooth, shiny beach on the other. Hiding amongst the rocks was the entrance to a sea cave, which was Twister’s home. The whole island was his, although it felt lonely sometimes.
But not now.
Twister smiled at the toy, which smiled back in its perpetual state of happiness. It wasn’t a real hippocampus, but a pretend one was better than none at all. Wasn’t it?
A shadow swept above them and circled. At the same moment, the calm day was disturbed by shouting.
“SEA HORSE! SEA HORSE!”
Twister tossed his head and looked up. A streak of red feathers was flying above, eyeing him. It was a scarlet macaw! He wondered what it was doing way out here, so far from the mainland. There were some macaws living wild in Florida, but they were all escaped pets. It couldn’t have flown all the way from Latin America.
Twister decided to ask the bird. “Hey!” He called. “Down here!”
The “sea horse” chant continued as if Twister had never spoken at all. He tried again, and again. Then he pinned his ears back in frustration.
“Oh, go away, will you, you glorified chatterbox?” he snorted. “If you don’t want to talk to me, then leave me alone.”
He grabbed Rainbow and towed it into the shelter of his sea cave. The horrible shouting stopped as soon as he was out of the parrot’s sight.
“Phew,” Twister sighed. “That was weird.”
Blue light danced on the cave walls all around him. It made him feel like he was still underwater, even when he was floating on the surface. A few bolts of sunlight shot through holes in the roof. It was cool and calm, and best of all, quiet. Twister relaxed, and his smile returned.
“Welcome to my cave, Rainbow,” Twister said cheerfully. “I hope you like it. I sure do. Here, let me show you around. I’d like you to see my collection of sand dollars.”
He was just beginning to wonder if talking to a piece of plastic would make others think he was crazy when a familiar sound hit his ears. Instantly he went numb with dread.
“Washbuckler’s ship! Oh no, I can’t let him find my home!”
He shot out of the cave, back into the lagoon, and the shouts of “sea horse” began again. The macaw followed him out into deeper water, yelling at the top of his lungs.
Twister flicked water up towards the bird. “Go away!” If he didn’t want to be spotted, the last thing he needed was a colorful aerial escort announcing his presence to anyone nearby. He splashed again, and when that didn’t work, he dove until he was too deep for the parrot to see.
He went to a different island, this one with an array of coral reefs and sand banks to play among. Twister sighed; the last time he was here, he’d been escaping from Skylar, the orca who had separated him from his family. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore, but he was still mad at her for what she’d done.
A blob of burnt gold floated into his vision, and his stomach growled.
“Mmm, sargassum. My favorite.”
Twister began to munch the seaweed, which had amassed as if it had expected he was coming here just to eat it. Filling his belly made him feel a little better. He grazed for nearly a half hour, then looked around for a good spot to nap.
“SEA HORSE! SEA HORSE!”
Oh no, Twister thought with a groan. Not this guy again. The color of his scales shifted to match the browns and golds of the seaweed clump. He hoped the macaw wouldn’t see him and leave him in peace.
It didn’t work. Red feathers still flapped in a circle overhead, shouting Twister’s presence to the world. The macaw must have very good eyesight.
Maybe I can talk to him, Twister thought. Most creatures are reasonable if you just talk with them.
He shifted color to camouflage himself, dove as deep as he could, and swam for a patch of mangroves whose roots had waded into the water. Perhaps if the macaw was able to land, he would be more willing to have a conversation. Twister emerged beneath a leafy umbrella, uncloaked himself, and waited. The parrot fluttered over the water for a few more moments before spotting him.
“SEA HORSE! SEA HORSE! SEA HORSE!”
“HEY!” Twister yelled, competing with the macaw’s voice. “Could you come down here? I want to talk!”
Whether his request was honored or the macaw just decided to rest on its own, Twister couldn’t decide. But after a few minutes’ delay, the bird settled down on one of the mangrove branches. It eyed him, as if scrutinizing every scale on Twister’s body.
“Sea horse, sea horse, squa-aaaawk.”
“Could you please stop doing that?” Twister asked, trying to remain calm and polite. “Also, why are you following me?”
“Sea horse. Sea horse.”
“I know.” Twister’s ears pinned back without his permission. “I need to stay hidden, so… could you please leave me alone?”
“Sea horse.”
A burst of anger threatened to pop in Twister’s chest, but he pushed it down. He realized he’d been speaking to it in the human language, which Tristan spoke. Maybe the bird didn’t understand human.
I’ll try some seabird, Twister thought. Birds are usually good at understanding multiple dialects.
He tried seagull first, then pelican, loon, sandpiper, and heron. He even attempted spoonbill, but no matter what, he received the same “sea horse” response.
“Argh!” Twister’s tail went SLOO-WOOSH, dousing the scarlet annoyance with seawater. The macaw screeched indignantly, barely managing to remain on his perch. Droplets scattered as he flapped his wings. Twister took the opportunity to make his escape. He swam back the way he’d come and was immediately hit with dread.
Washbuckler’s big white ship was chugging along the island coast towards him. And it was blocking the quickest route to deeper waters.
Oh, great. Twister ducked under the water. Now he would have to swim around the island the long way, but he could still escape. He barreled around a reef only to skid to a stop. Two jet skis snarled towards him, a net stretched between them. Washbuckler rode one, and Bootleg commandeered the other, horrifying eagerness etched on their faces.
“Yikes!” Twister cried. He whipped around again.
“Drive him towards the boat, Bootleg!” came Washbuckler’s scratchy voice. “We’ve got him this time!”
From above, the parrot joined in. “SEA HORSE! SEA HORSE!”
All the noise made it hard to think. Twister barreled back towards the big white ship, a few heartbeats ahead of the jet skis. At the last moment he saw Barb aiming something at him from the bow. He pulled himself to a halt just as a second net sailed through the sky and wrapped around the front half of his body. Twister squealed, but he’d stopped soon enough to keep the net from completely entangling him, and he didn’t lose his head. He dove, pressing himself into the sand and making himself as small as possible. The other net tickled his ears as Washbuckler and Bootleg swept past overhead.
All this happened in the space of two seconds. Twister kicked up a cloud of sand and took off as fast as his tail could take him. Bootleg and Washbuckler barely realized they’d missed him when they swerved to avoid hitting the big boat. But of course, they turned in different directions, and the net strained and snapped before wrapping around the front of Washbuckler’s ship. The jet skis jerked to a halt, and both riders were pitched into the ocean.
“That slimy seaweed-eater!” Washbuckler growled as he clambered back onto his boat, dripping from head to toe. “We had him, and that noisy excuse for a bird scared him off! This is all your fault, Barb. I knew your plan would be an utter failure!”
“Your fault! Failure!” the macaw said, landing on the railing of the ship. Jessica snorted down a laugh from the ship’s bridge, where she had been steering.
“On the contrary, Captain,” Barb said in a smooth, snakelike voice. “This is the closest we have ever come to capturing the Sea Unicorn. Usually he won’t let you close enough to get a net on him.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly get the net on all of him, did you?” Washbuckler shot back.
Barb narrowed his cold gray eyes. “That is beside the point. We know which locations the Sea Unicorn prefers to visit. With this bird,” he flicked a finger at the macaw, “we can scout several areas at once. Our chances of encountering him improve. And if we chase him enough, well…”
Barb flashed a sly grin, which Washbuckler immediately mimicked.
“Well, he can’t swim forever, now, can he?”
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Twister swam as deep as he could, hiding in the depths of the ocean. It was dark down here, but he couldn’t risk being seen by anyone on the surface. The net prevented him from using his camouflage, which was one of his best defenses. He had fought with it, biting and thrashing to try and break free, but the more he struggled, the tighter the net clung to him.
I’ll have to get Tristan to cut me out, Twister thought. I’ll go to Paradise Reef. Maybe Flash or Sunny will be there, and they can get Tristan for me.
He swam for Paradise Reef, where he spent most of his time with his friends, as fast as he could. The net made his swimming awkward, and the metal balls attached to the corners thumped against his neck and shoulders. It also began to collect various debris: a clump of seaweed here, a piece of garbage there. When he swam near the seabed, rocks and shells snagged onto the mesh until Twister was hauling a lot of additional weight. Once he swam through a cloud of jellyfish, and one got caught in the net. Its tentacles touched the sensitive spot behind his ear. Twister winced.
Of course the jellyfish would get stuck in the only place I can feel the sting, Twister thought grumpily.
At long last, he made it to Paradise Reef, where he was relieved to see his dolphin friend.
“Flash!”
Flash turned around and blanched with terror. “It’s a sea monster!” he shrieked.
“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Twister called hurriedly. “It’s just me, Twister!”
Flash stared, squinting at the mass of junk attached to his friend. “Twister?” he echoed disbelievingly. “What in the seven seas…”
“I’ll explain later,” Twister said. “Washbuckler’s after me. I need you to go get Tristan, and I need to hide.”
“Right. Right.” Flash nodded, perplexed but understanding. “Yes. You go hide. I’ll bring Tristan.”
The dolphin arrowed away, and Twister found a cave in the reef big enough for him to squeeze into. Bug-eyed squirrelfish grunted their displeasure at his intrusion before disappearing into smaller holes. Twister ignored them, preoccupied with how close he’d come to losing his freedom. Washbuckler had found him twice today in rapid succession, and he imagined it had something to do with the scarlet macaw. It was hard enough to escape with just Barb doing the tracking. Now that the poachers had eyes in the sky, Twister’s chances of remaining free were plummeting.
I have to get rid of that bird, Twister thought. But how?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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---------------------------------
Tristan sat with his friend, Sandy Fisher, on the docks of Key West Harbor. They munched on some salad while they watched boats coming and going.
“I wonder what’s upsetting Dr. Washbuckler,” Sandy said, pointing at the big white boat moored five piers away. “I saw him walk by our shop with his team a half-hour ago. They looked mad. I hope their research is going okay.”
Tristan fidgeted a piece of kale with his fork. He knew better than to believe Washbuckler’s lies about being a marine biologist. But he couldn’t reveal the actual purpose of the portly poacher to anyone without putting Twister at risk.
I really wish I could tell Sandy, he thought. She would help keep Twister safe, and she might help me think of a way to stop Washbuckler from chasing him.
A sigh escaped him. He couldn’t tell Sandy. Twister had made him promise not to tell anyone about the hippocamp’s existence. He would just have to find another way to deal with Washbuckler. For now, the best thing to do was to gather information about Washbuckler’s plan and tell Twister.
“Let’s go see if we can help.” Sandy’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Come on! Researchers always need help.”
Tristan followed her, happy to have an easy excuse to do some spying for Twister. They were halfway to the boat when Jessica sauntered out onto the deck.
“Hey, kids!” she called rudely. “Come help me!”
Sandy looked around. “Is your uncle here, Jessica? We should probably ask him before we-“
“Blah, blah. He won’t mind.” The expression on Jessica’s freckled face indicated that the opposite was true, and that that was exactly why she was inviting them aboard.
Tristan was not about to pass up this opportunity. “Come on, Sandy,” he said, tugging her arm. “It’ll be fine.”
They climbed aboard the big boat and Jessica led them inside the cabin, where there were several seats and a table. A cage sat on the table, and its occupant fluttered awake with an unhappy croak.
“Oh my! A scarlet macaw!” Sandy exclaimed, peering into the cage. “Is he yours?”
Jessica scoffed. “I wish. Then he wouldn’t have to stay cooped up in that glorified prison cell. Barb uses him to— to—“ she caught herself. “To help with our research.”
“Really?” Sandy arched her eyebrows. “How does he do that?”
Instead of answering the question, Jessica launched into a long, loud string of complaints: Barb’s possession of the parrot, her uncle forcing her to stay on the boat, and literally anything she could think of. Fortunately for Tristan, Sandy was Jessica’s target audience, so he was able to peer around the room for clues. He came over to a bookshelf - filled mostly with Jessica’s reading collection - and spotted what looked like a pile of large flash cards. The top one was a pelican, but the card poking out from just beneath it looked oddly familiar. He stole a glance back at the girls, then pushed the pelican picture aside.
The next picture was of Twister. Not an accurate sketch, but the single horn was unmistakable. Two pictures down there was another one, but this Twister had green and pink scales instead of his usual blue and green.
Tristan drew in a breath. So that’s what Barb was using the parrot for. He had trained it to recognize Twister and possibly to signal to him when the hippocampus was in sight. He’d also found a way to combat Twister’s camouflaging ability; the parrot’s excellent eyesight, combined with its training to recognize Twister by shape and not color, would make his cloaking tricks less effective. Tristan had to hand it to Barb: the tracker was creative.
“And that’s why we have to let Shout go free!” Jessica’s noisy voice shattered Tristan’s thought pattern. She stared expectantly at Sandy. “Can you pick this lock?”
“I don’t think that’s right, Jessica.” Sandy gave the bird and the girl a sympathetic look. “Shout does still belong to Barb.”
Jessica pouted. “I knew you’d say something like that.” She didn’t sound as angry as Tristan expected.
“Maybe he’ll fly away on his own next time Barb lets him out,” Tristan offered.
Jessica shrugged and pulled her legs up to her chest.
Movement from outside caught Tristan’s eyes. A dolphin had entered the harbor, jumping and splashing. Could it be Flash? Tristan squinted.
It is Flash! Something must be wrong!
“Um,” Tristan blurted. “I— I just remembered I need to go do something. I have to go. Sorry. Bye!”
“Uh, okay. Bye,” Sandy said, clearly puzzled. Jessica didn’t respond.
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Hope surged in Twister’s heart when he heard Tristan’s dinghy motor overhead. Moments later, the boy was swimming towards him, two pairs of wire cutters in hand. Flash followed.
“You made it!” Twister exclaimed, emerging from his hiding place.
Tristan spooked at first, until he recognized that his friend was buried beneath the mass of sea junk. “Twister! What happened to you?”
“I’ll tell you in a moment. First, I want to get out of this net!”
Twister and Tristan worked together to cut through the net. As they did, the hippocampus recounted his narrow escape. When he mentioned the scarlet macaw that had harassed him, Tristan explained what he’d found out during his visit aboard Washbuckler’s boat.
“That’s… terrifyingly genius,” Flash commented.
“Yeah,” Twister said. “I knew Barb was smart, but this is next-level.”
“So what do we do?” Tristan asked. “We need to get rid of Shout somehow.”
Twister scratched behind the decorative fins below his ears. “Tristan, how detailed were the sketches of me that Barb used?”
“Not very. He’s not half as good at drawing as Jessica is.”
A grin pulled at the corners of Twister’s mouth. “I wonder…”
Flash and Tristan looked at him expectantly.
“I wonder if we could pull off a little trick of our own. Tristan, how well can you draw?”
“Not very,” Tristan admitted.
“Think you could draw a sketch of me that Shout would recognize?”
Tristan’s eyes lit up as he guessed what his friend was planning. “Sure thing, Twister.”
“Great! Flash, would you go to my Key and bring Rain- I mean, the pool float we found today? I’m going to check out that container ship wreck to see if I can find something useful there.”
“The one with all the human toys?” Flash narrowed his eyes. “You sure about that? Last time you went there, you and Tristan were nearly barracuda bait.”
“Sure I’m sure,” Twister said with a wink. “If those barracudas are still there, I can handle ’em. They’re fierce, but not smart. A lot like Washbuckler, if you think about it.”
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“What sort of country is this?!” Simon Washbuckler grumbled. “Can’t even get a decent net! If only that blasted sea beast hadn’t ruined my other two!”
“With my plan, we won’t need nets, Captain,” Barb remarked, inspecting his knife. They had set out to sea as soon as they had realized they couldn’t procure more nets.
“Let’s hope so. Send out the bird! I’m sick of his infernal screeching.”
“Shout’s not the one making the infernal screeches,” Jessica muttered. She glared at the cage, as if hoping her anger would be hot enough to melt the bars. Barb snatched it away and glared at her before opening the door and shooing Shout into the air. The parrot flapped off with a squawk, searching.
Thirty minutes passed, and the poachers kept track of Shout’s location on a GPS. The flashing dot that represented the parrot’s tracking chip moved, then stood still.
“He’s found something!” Barb exclaimed.
“Bootleg! Hoist anchor!” Washbuckler yelled at the giant man.
“Uhhh, aye-aye, Captain!” Bootleg saluted with childlike enthusiasm.
The big white boat plowed through the waves. Washbuckler gripped the wheel eagerly. He was moments away from being richer than he could dream of!
“That parrot was an excellent idea,” he muttered, pleased. “Glad I thought of it!”
Before long, they reached the coordinates at which Shout had stopped. Curiously, it was near the Vandenberg wreck, a sunken ship which was a popular spot for fishing and diving. The Sea Unicorn didn’t like areas frequented by people.
“Odd,” Barb remarked. He peered through a spyglass as they moved closer. “Captain, you might want to see this.”
Washbuckler snatched the spyglass and peered through it. He scrunched up his face. “It’s that nosy Coast Guard kid! What’s that useless tuft of feathers doing with him?”
“Let’s ask,” Barb said darkly.
The big white boat dwarfed the boy’s dinghy as it came alongside. Shout continued to circle overhead, but he was the only one who noticed when Tristan slipped a crude drawing out of sight.
“Tarkin!” Washbuckler roared at him from high above. “What are you doing here?!”
“Fishing,” The boy replied. The sound of his name seemed to cause him annoyance, but Washbuckler had no idea why. If anyone had a right to be frustrated, it was Washbuckler. He wanted to find the Sea Unicorn, not this useless kid.
“What are you doing with my bird?” Barb asked icily.
“Sorry, sir,” Tristan said. “He won’t go away. I was just fishing when he came along and started flying and shouting. If you’d like to take him away, please do. I might have better luck then.”
Jessica scrunched up her face at him, her eyes suspicious. “Didn’t you say you had something important to do?”
For a split second, Tristan looked as though he’d just been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Then it was gone as he confidently answered, “Yes. My Dad asked me to get some fish for dinner. If I don’t catch anything, I have to buy some from Mr. Porter, and I don’t have long.”
“He can’t be here, Captain,” Barb whispered to Washbuckler. “The Sea Unicorn would never come so close to a crowded area.”
“Fine,” Washbuckler growled. He flapped a chubby hand at Tristan. “Go on with your smelly fish. Barb, get that bird and let’s go.”
They turned northeast and sailed towards the Saddlebunch Keys, which were about fifteen miles from Key West. The Saddlebunches were sparsely populated, as Barb pointed out, and had numerous places where a Sea Unicorn might hide. He sent out Shout again.
“Got him,” Barb announced triumphantly a few minutes later.
Washbuckler grunted. “Let’s hope that feathered noise-bag gets it right this time.”
The GPS marker led them to a long, thin bay surrounded by mangroves on all sides. It was the perfect place to trap their quarry.
“I thee thomething!” Bootleg exclaimed through his lisp. “Look! It’th pink and fluffy!”
“Fluffy?” Washbuckler snapped. “Are you blind?! The Sea Unicorn isn’t fluffy!”
Shout was circling a small patch of pink in the water. Jessica seized the spyglass moments before Barb did. He scowled at her, but did nothing more.
“It’s a plushie!” she announced, only just hiding her amusement.
“Oh, nonsense!” Her uncle sputtered. “Bootleg! Get in the dinghy and go see what it is.”
Bootleg obeyed, and sure enough, returned with a sopping wet and slightly filthy plush unicorn toy. Washbuckler turned thirteen shades of red in anger. Bootleg held up the soiled lump and grinned.
“It’th tho cute!” The giant man giggled. “Can I keep it, Captain? Pleathe?”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Washbuckler knocked the stuffie out of Bootleg’s hands, but his question was directed at Barb. “This bird of yours has played us false twice now!”
Barb clenched and unclenched his fists. “We’re being tricked,” he hissed.
Once again, only Shout had noticed the slate-gray back of a penguin snickering as she hid in the mangroves.
“Exactly! Tricked by that sorry excuse for a bird of yours! If he leads us wrong one more time—“
“SEA HORSE! SEA HORSE!” Shout had already moved, and the wind carried his cries to the four on the ship. Washbuckler glared at Barb one last time before barking orders to follow the bird.
They came to a different bay, where a white pool float bobbed gently on the water. Shout fluttered down and perched on it, bobbing his head in expectation.
“A POOL FLOAT?!” Washbuckler’s rage was in full force now. “Are we to be sidetracked by every blasted plaything in the sea? This is your fault, Barb! This is—“
A whinny and a bucketload of water cut Washbuckler short. The real Sea Unicorn announced his appearance by soaking all four humans with his tail.
Saltwater sprayed from Washbuckler’s mouth. “It’s him! Quickly, Bootleg! Get the net!”
“B-b-but Captain, we don’t have any…”
“DO AS YOU’RE TOLD!!”
“Forget the nets,” Barb snarled, picking up his harpoon gun. “I’ll spear the blasted beast.”
Suddenly everything was quiet. Even Shout kept silent, his attention focused elsewhere.
“W-where did he go?” Bootleg stammered.
And a mocking neigh sounded out behind them. The Sea Unicorn was bounding away into deeper waters. He didn’t even bother to keep himself hidden.
Washbuckler gasped a high-pitched gasp. “Quickly! Don’t let him get away!”
“We can catch him before he gets to open ocean,” Barb exclaimed, leaping into position on the bow. His harpoon glittered wickedly in the sunlight.
Washbuckler raced to the ship’s helm to start the motor. A long noise greeted his effort.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
“Out of fuel?!” Washbuckler sputtered. He banged at the fuel gauge. “No! What fool forgot to fill up the tank before we left?!”
“Ooh! I know!” Bootleg exclaimed. “You.”
Washbuckler howled in fury. Outside, Barb’s steely eyes flashed maliciously. He glanced at the pool float, and the parrot that had cost them their capture. In anger, he shot the harpoon at Shout.
The spear whizzed through the air. Shout moved just in time, and the harpoon tore through the pool float instead.
“Not nice! Not nice!” The parrot fussed. He soared over Barb and dropped something warm, gooey, and smelly on his shoulder. Then he flew away to find what he was looking for.
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“Did you see that?” Sunny giggled. “Did you see how mad Washbuckler got? He was as red as that macaw!”
“And as loud,” Flash added, chuckling. “That was a great idea, Twister!”
Twister smiled. It was the day after they’d outwitted Washbuckler, and the four friends celebrated the success of their ruse at Paradise Reef.
“Sorry about the pool float, Twister,” Tristan said to his friend. “I couldn’t repair it.”
Twister gave him a hug. “Don’t worry about it, Tristan. You and Flash and Sunny are all way better conversation partners than a pool float.”
“There’s something I don’t understand, though,” Flash said. “Why did you choose to do it in the Saddlebunch Keys? I was afraid Washbuckler would trap you too easily in there.”
“There was that chance,” Twister admitted. “But I wanted to be sure that Shout got off my tail for good.”
Tristan, Flash and Sunny looked equally mystified.
“Well?” Sunny honked expectantly. “You gonna tell us?”
Twister grinned with a hint of mischief. “Let’s just say I found something he would want to chase more than me.”
Miles away, in the leafy tops of the mangroves, two parrots perched side-by-side. They had both escaped captivity and neither one was interested in going back.
“Pretty bird, pretty bird,” Shout cooed at the female parrot. All his thoughts about Sea Horses were far away. He was free, free, free! And the bliss he felt was as warm and rosy as a scarlet macaw’s feathers.
|
Horse Gentler & West Australian | | 2025-09-29 14:53:10 | | THE SEA MONSTER
Tristan was swimming as fast as he could. His arms and legs struck the blue water with astonishing speed and force.
Gotta get away, his mind raced. Gotta hide. Where?
He spotted a rock jutting out of the waves. Desperately he made for it, kicking hard. He slipped behind it, pressing against the rough surface and trying to keep his breathing quiet. His ears strained to hear signs of his pursuer, but there was nothing. Nothing but the breeze and the lapping of the waves.
And then something scaly grabbed his shoulder.
“Ya-ah!” Tristan shouted. Then he collapsed into laughter.
“Gotcha,” his friend said, joining in the laughter. “You’re getting fast, Tristan.”
“Still not as fast as you, Twister,” Tristan panted.
“I have the advantage of a tail,” Twister said. He lifted his tail out of the water and splashed the water with it. Pink, green, orange, and pale blue shimmered in the brilliant Florida sun. Twister was a hippocampus, so while his back half resembled that of a whale, his front half was that of a horse. His scales were a deeper shade of blue than that of his tail fin, and his belly was the color of a pristine beach. A pale green mane draped over his neck and a glassy horn protruded from his forehead. The hippocampus had been friends with Tristan for quite some time, and he’d taught the boy how to swim swiftly and efficiently.
“Yeah, well I have the advantage of doing this!” Tristan sprang from the rock and playfully tackled Twister’s neck. The hippocampus stretched himself out straight and rolled, spinning like a top in the water. Tristan clutched at Twister’s mane, trying not to be flung away, but finally he got too dizzy to persist.
“Okay, okay!” He panted. “You win! I surrender!”
“Let go, then, silly,” Twister chuckled. He slowed his roll enough that Tristan wouldn’t be thrust away by the momentum, and the boy released his hold.
Tristan smiled up at his friend, blinking whenever the sunlight flashed through Twister’s horn. He felt he could play chase and wrestle with the hippocampus all day. It reminded him of how he and his Dad had played when Tristan was younger.
At the thought of his father, Tristan’s smile faded.
Twister smirked playfully. “Why the long face, brother?”
“I— I was just thinking. About my Dad.”
The hippocamp’s emerald eyes instantly became sympathetic. “What about your Dad?”
“It’s just…” Tristan fretted with the blonde hair behind his ear. “Well… this reminds me of how my Dad and I used to play. I kinda miss that.”
And I miss my Mom, too, he added silently.
Twister patted Tristan’s shoulder with his webbed foot. “Hey, I get it. But you can always play this way with me.”
“Yeah,” Tristan said gratefully. Twister did understand. Tristan had known his Mom and still had his Dad, even if he was usually away doing his Coast Guard duties. Twister didn’t even know who his parents were. The hippocampus had been raised by a nurse shark named Mrs. G.
“You want to go another round?” Twister asked. “You’re it, you know.”
“I’d like to, but I’d better not. I’ve got chores to do, and I’m going to help Sandy with her windsurfing after she’s done with work.”
Twister scratched behind the decorative fins near his ears. “She’s really been into that lately,” he observed.
“She has. Not really sure why, but it lets me hang out with her. What will you do?”
“Hmm. I’m feeling a bit athletic myself. I think I’ll go hop some waves. Maybe Sunny will come with me.”
Twister helped Tristan back to his dinghy. “See you later, Tristan!”
“See you, Twister!” The boy called as he started the motor and headed for home.
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Tristan hauled his wind surfboard, which looked like a surfboard attached to a sail, down to Higgs Beach. It was shaping up to be a very nice day for wind surfing. The weather was perfect, and there were few people around to watch out for. But Sandy hadn’t arrived yet, so Tristan had to amuse himself somehow.
Today is too perfect to just sit on the beach, Tristan thought. I’ll go out and do a bit of wind surfing myself.
He hauled his board out into the waves and began. Using the sail to steer, Tristan felt himself zooming over the water driven by wind alone. It was almost as exhilarating as riding on Twister.
A buzz registered with his ears a split second before water smacked into his body. The force and shock of the blow knocked Tristan off balance and he tumbled into the water.
“Hey, loser!” he heard someone say. “Little kids belong in the kiddie pool!” A jet ski roared past, spraying water everywhere.
“Watch it!” Tristan tried to say, but all that came out was an enraged splutter. Spraying other people like that wasn’t just rude, it was dangerous and illegal. He tried to identify the driver of the jet ski, but all he could tell was that it was a boy about three years older than himself.
Not much I can do, then, Tristan grumbled. He righted his board, only to discover that a large crack had abruptly appeared in the sail.
Great. Guess I’ll have to tell Sandy that there’s not going to be surfing lessons for a while.
He hauled his broken toy to shore, and then home before walking down to Key West Harbor. Sandy and her mother ran the Surf-N-Scuba shop there. The chimes of a bell greeted Tristan’s ears as he opened the door and walked in.
“Hi, Mrs. Fisher,” he said to the lady behind the counter. “Is Sandy here?”
Mrs. Fisher smiled at him. “Hello, Tristan. She’s in the back room with her crafts, as usual. You’re welcome to go in.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Sandy was a very artistic person. She liked making jewelry out of wire, beads, shells, and sea glass. Sometimes she even sold her creations in the shop. But today, her crafts had been neglected. Sandy was watching something on her computer.
Tristan was taken aback. He hadn’t seen Sandy glued to her computer before. Except at school, he remembered, but it was summer break… so what was she looking at?
“Sandy?” He asked.
Sandy jumped as if she’d just been caught stealing a candy bar. “Oh, Tristan. You startled me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just… well, my wind surfboard is broken, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to—“
“Oh, that’s alright,” Sandy interrupted, which was completely out of character for her. “Maybe Tanner DeVido will teach me!”
“Who’s Tanner DeVido?”
“Him!” Sandy pointed to her computer screen, which displayed a video of a boy a few years older than Tristan doing tricks with all sorts of water equipment.
“Isn’t he just the coolest?” Sandy asked, with a dreamy glitter in her eyes. “And he’s here, in Key West! He said so in his latest video. Can you believe it? Of all the places in world to move to, Tanner came here!”
“Well, there goes the neighborhood,” Tristan grumbled under his breath. He was not fond of daredevils. For one, they often did dangerous or illegal things that made more work for law enforcement, like Tristan’s dad. For two, Tristan was privately upset that he didn’t have any astonishingly impressive skills. The only remarkable things he could do - talking to sea creatures and being friends with Twister - he had to keep secret.
He stared at Sandy as she watched Tanner doing flips on his jet ski. He felt a stab of something odd and green, which puzzled him, but he didn’t have time to think it through.
Wait a minute, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the computer. I recognize that jet ski. Red with the white lightning stripe on the side?
“That’s the jerk who sprayed me this morning!” he blurted.
Sandy looked at him in shock. “What?”
“This morning, at Higgs Beach. Tanner sprayed me with his jet ski. That’s why my board is broken.”
“There are lots of red jet skis around,” Sandy said, crossing her arms. “Besides, Tanner doesn’t ever do illegal stuff like that.”
“And how do you know?” Tristan shot back. “Because you never see it in his videos? Of course you don’t. He wouldn’t incriminate himself.”
“I think you’re just jealous,” Sandy snapped at him. “You don’t know Tanner at all. So why don’t you take your scowl somewhere else and leave me in peace?”
Some of the anger went out of Tristan when he realized he’d been arguing with his friend. He knew he should apologize, but his pride wouldn’t let him.
“Fine.” He swung open the door and marched out. Heading to the pier, he took a walk among all the boats to clear his head. When that didn’t help, he got another idea.
I’ll go find Twister, he decided. Wave hopping doesn’t sound so bad right now.
He knew he would have to make up with Sandy at some point, but right now he needed some time to cool off by doing something he enjoyed. He was too upset to think about talking to Sandy now.
And sadly, things were about to get worse.
He turned the corner to head down the pier where his boat was moored when he was abruptly blocked by a trio of burly boys who were all at least three years older than Tristan.
“Hey, punk,” said the biggest. “You’re that klutz from the beach, aren’t you?”
Tristan stared at the three adolescents. One he recognized: Tanner DeVido. The daredevil looked even bigger and stronger in real life. His muscles bulged beneath his sun-browned skin, and his face wore the most smug expression Tristan had ever seen. This was the last thing on earth that Tristan wanted to deal with right now.
“Get out of my way,” he snapped at the bigger boy.
“Don’t you know the rules?” Tanner sneered. “All losers, klutzes, and slowpokes have to pay a toll to use this dock. That’ll be ten dollars.”
“No way!” That was the last straw. Tristan had lost his temper. “That’s the stupidest thing ever! This is a public pier!”
“Ooh, a smart one. How cute,” Tanner mocked, and his buddies hooted jeeringly. With one swift move, he gave Tristan a mighty shove. “Feeling smart now, loser?”
The back of Tristan’s head barked painfully against the wood deck. His blood boiled with rage and embarrassment. He scrambled to his feet, intending to punch that snide smile off of Tanner’s face. At the last moment, reason won out. Tanner was bigger, stronger, and he had two friends to back him up. Plus, if Tristan started a fight, he might end up in just as much trouble as the others. What would his Dad think about that?
“Come on, fight!” Tanner said, trying to goad Tristan. “Unless you’re chicken!”
Tristan stared for one more moment, the turned and walked swiftly away from the three older boys. Tanner and his cronies hurled insults after him, calling him names and making chicken noises.
“Real mature, guys,” Tristan muttered angrily. He was thankful, at least, that Tanner’s crew didn’t follow him and try to force him into a battle.
“I’ll wait until they clear out. Then I can go see Twister.”
He didn’t have to wait too long. Just a few moments after he’d left, Tanner slapped his two cronies on the shoulder. “Come on, Bucky, Taig. Let’s go pull some stunts.”
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“Sunny! Oh, Sunny!” Twister called as he looked for his friend. His search took him all the way to the waters off the Saddlebunch Keys, a set of sparsely populated islands northeast of Key West. In general, Sunny preferred to keep well away from any potential human contact. But there was one thing that could tempt her closer to populated land: food.
Twister’s sensitive ears caught the sound of birds calling high above. He surfaced and saw a cloud of seabirds hovering and diving and floating about a patch of ocean.
“Looks like they’ve found something tasty,” Twister said. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Sunny is there in the center of the action.”
He swam over to the feeding frenzy and almost immediately found who he was looking for. Sunny was easy to pick out in a crowd because she was the only penguin in Key West. She had moved to the Caribbean from her home on the Galápagos Islands for “climate reasons,” as she put it.
“Hey, Sunny!” Twister called. “Sunny!”
Sunny zoomed through the water like a torpedo and caught a small fish called a mullet. She swallowed it in one gulp before spotting Twister.
“Not now, Twister! I’m busy,” she rattled off just in time to grab another mullet.
Twister backed away from the school of terrified fish to avoid the other birds diving into the water from above. He didn’t want to accidentally impale a pelican or an anhinga on his glassy horn.
“All this spectating is making me hungry,” Twister said as he observed the scene from a safe distance. “There ought to be some food around here somewhere.”
He found a lush patch of seagrass nearby and had just begun to graze when a faint buzzing noise registered with his hearing. It was barely distinguishable amid all the bird squawking, so by the time Twister realized that boats were in the area, the machines were already very close. The hippocampus shifted his scales to match the color of his surroundings before poking his head above the water.
A boat and a jet ski were zooming towards the flock. Twister counted three humans, two on the boat and one on the jet ski. The one riding the jet ski wore a camera strapped to his helmet, probably to record his stunts.
“Looks like trouble,” Twister muttered as the boy on the jet ski did a backflip. He strained to make out what the boys were saying; he didn’t dare go any closer.
“Hey, Bucky!” the kid on the jet ski yelled to one on the boat. “Watch me make these birds fly!”
Oh, no. Twister swam towards the cloud of birds, all of which were too preoccupied with their meal to notice the approaching danger. “Everyone! Scatter! Get out of the way!”
But he was too far away. The jet ski got there first. Seagulls, pelicans, and anhinga flapped wildly into the air to avoid being hit by the noisy machine that plowed through their midst. Only one seabird didn’t take off. Sunny. She swam frantically, trying to get away, but the boy chased her down. He was going to run over her!
“No!” Twister roared. With an incredible leap, he hurled himself at the small watercraft.
WHAM!
Pain exploded from Twister’s head as he collided with the jet ski. His vision swirled with murky clouds and flashing stars. He barely heard the jet ski’s passenger yell and hit the water. Only one thought was clear.
Get away, fast!
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“Whoa, Tanner, man, you okay?” Bucky asked as he and Taig helped their buddy into the boat.
“Get off me!” Tanner snapped, jerking his arm away. “You guys see it?”
“See what, bro?” Taig queried.
“The sea monster!” Tanner exploded. “The thing that attacked me!”
Bucky and Taig looked at each other, mystified.
“Uh, nope,” Taig said.
“All I saw was a bunch of birds,” Bucky added.
Tanner clenched his fists. “I’ll prove it,” he resolved, ripping the camera off his helmet. He raced inside, where he kept a computer to upload his stunt videos, and plugged his camera in. A few moments later, he’d pulled up the video he had taken when he had been so rudely interrupted.
“See!” Tanner exclaimed triumphantly. He paused the video and jabbed his finger at the corner of the screen.
Taig squinted. “See what, dude?”
“The monster! That’s his tail!”
“That just looks like a blur to me, dude.”
“Could be a fish,” Bucky offered helpfully.
“It’s not!” Tanner insisted. “It was a sea monster, I’m sure of it!”
Taig and Bucky exchanged glances. “Maybe you’ve been out in the sun too long, Tanner,” Taig said.
“You think I’m crazy?!” Tanner was really angry now. “I know what I saw! It’s a monster, I tell you, a monster!”
“Sure it is, bro,” Bucky patronized. “Let’s go back to land and have a soda or something.”
Tanner had a mind to start hunting for the sea monster right then and there. He was absolutely furious with his friends for their disbelief. But his jet ski had hit something after its brush with the monster and it wouldn’t look very cool without a trip to the repair shop. Plus, this was the perfect opportunity to shoot another episode for his video channel. Imagine the number of views he’d get on a video of him tracking down a sea monster!
On top of all that, a soda did sound pretty good.
“Okay, fine.” Tanner threw up his arms in exasperation. “But I’m going to get that sea monster. And when I do, you’re both going to feel like the clowns you are.”
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After his humiliating experience with Tanner, Tristan decided he didn’t really feel like hopping waves with Twister after all. Instead, he went home and did something fairly counterproductive.
“What’s so special about this guy, anyway?” he grumbled, watching Tanner do tricks on the computer screen. “What does Sandy see in him that I don’t have?”
Tanner closed out his stunt video by performing a rodeo flip on his surfboard, an extremely challenging move. Sulkily, Tristan imagined that he could do that just as well… if Key West had any good surfing spots.
For the rest of his life, Tristan would never know what made him click on the next video, but he did, and things might have gone very differently if he hadn’t.
“What’s up, Tanner fans!” Tanner’s cocky face said from the computer. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you.” He pulled the camera closer, as if he was about to impart an astounding secret. “I was attacked by a sea monster!”
“What a drama queen,” Tristan thought scornfully. “He just made that up to get more attention.” But he kept watching.
“I was catchin’ some air when something big slammed into the side of my jet ski, the Red Devil. I was thrown into the sea and barely escaped with my life, but I managed to get a glimpse of the beast.”
An image of Tanner in a rather unceremonious position appeared on the screen. It was blurry and mostly obscured by bubbles, but Tanner had circled the top left corner of the image in red.
“This was taken a split second after I hit the water,” Tanner’s voice explained. “You can see the brighter colors form the shape of a tail. That’s my monster… and I’m gonna hunt it down!”
Tristan paused the video to stare at the screen. The pale blue and the barely visible oranges and pinks looked a lot like the colors on Twister’s tail.
No, that can’t be, Tristan thought. Twister would’ve been able to hear a jet ski coming from miles. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere near Tanner.
Tristan relaxed, convinced that this was all a hoax. And then…
“AAH-HEE! AAH-HEE!”
The noise exploded from the front porch. Poor Tristan jumped, nearly spilling his water everywhere. He hurried outside, because that was the Penguin Warning Call, one of the first things Twister had taught him to recognize.
“Sunny! What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, racing onto the front porch.
Sunny’s slate gray head poked out from a lantana bush. “It’s Twister!” She panted. “There was a lunatic… tried to save me… I think he’s hurt!”
“Wait, slow down,” Tristan said. “Who’s hurt? Twister?”
“Yes!” Sunny nearly bellowed. “This noisy human thing was chasing me, and Twister rammed it to keep it from hitting me. I don’t know where he went, but I know he’s in trouble!”
Tristan felt a cold prick of fear in his gut. “Sunny, was the noisy thing red with a white stripe down the side?”
“Who cares? Twister’s in trouble. Don’t just sit on your tail feathers, we have to help him!”
Tristan shook himself. “You’re right, Sunny. I’ll get my First Aid kit.”
The pieces of the awful puzzle were falling into place. He didn’t need Sunny’s confirmation to know. Twister was out there, injured, and Tanner was hunting for him.
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“This bag smells awful,” Sunny complained. She had stowed in Tristan’s duffle bag so she wouldn’t be seen as he raced to the harbor.
“Shhh,” Tristan hissed. He did not want to have to explain why his bag was making noises. He hurried down the dock and jumped into his dinghy.
I hope I have everything I need, he worried.
“Hey, you! Punk!”
Oh, great. Tristan reached to untie his dinghy, hoping to get away, but the rope was promptly pinned to the deck by a sandaled foot. Tanner’s foot. And Tristan didn’t dare to try and pry it off.
“Where do you think you’re going, loser?” Tanner said with a sneer.
“I— I—“
“You— you—“ the bigger boy mocked. “Spit it out, you big baby. Or maybe you don’t know how to talk yet.”
Tristan’s mind raced for an answer. He had to get to Twister! But panic had clouded his reason, and Sunny was completely unhelpful by hissing, “Who’s the jerk?” under her breath.
“I’m going to look for the sea monster,” Tristan blurted.
Tanner blinked. He had not expected that.
“I— I’ve seen it before,” Tristan went on, scarcely aware of what he was saying. “I never told anyone because… I just thought now, that someone else has seen it… maybe…”
“You’ve seen it?” Tanner grabbed Tristan by the collar and pulled him closer. “Where? Where?”
“H-here and there.”
“I knew it.” Tanner’s face lit up with satisfaction. “I knew I was right! Well, kid, since you’re the only guy on this island who thinks I’m not a liar, I’m gonna reward you. I’m going to let you help me find the sea monster. Isn’t that great?”
“Y-yeah, great,” Tristan managed. He wanted to smack himself for telling Tanner that he’d seen the “sea monster.” However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that what he’d said might have been the smartest option. Sticking close to the truth made it easier not to slip up and give himself away. Plus, he could keep an eye on Tanner this way. Maybe he could even take him somewhere that Twister would never go.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard Tristan tried to persuade him otherwise, Tanner insisted that they return to the Saddlebunch Keys to look for the monster. He also brought all the equipment necessary to livestream his exciting “monster hunt”, which made the dinghy a bit more crowded. Tristan used the clutter to his advantage, hiding behind it as he let Sunny out of the bag.
“Try to find Twister and get him out of here,” he whispered.
The penguin frowned at him. “And while I’m doing that, you’d better get rid of this nut job. Who knows what he’d do if he saw Twister?”
“Trust me, I’m trying,” Tristan grunted.
Sunny slid into the water just as Tanner addressed Tristan. “Stay outta my way, kid. I don’t want you in my video. There’s only room for one star in this show… and that’s this guy!” He pointed to himself.
Tristan shrugged. He had more important things to think about than being in Tanner’s video. Besides, if this guy wanted to hurt Twister, Tristan wanted nothing to do with him.
“What up, Tanner fans!” Tanner hollered at his camera. “In my last video, you witness my terrifying encounter with a sea monster. That’s right. A sea monster. Now I’m out here, all alone, to chase down the beast.” He shook the harpoon he’d brought dramatically. “And if I don’t come back… I want you all to know, you’re the best fans a guy could ever hope for.”
Tristan rolled his eyes.
“First, we’ll need some bait. I’ve brought some fish with me; that oughta lure the monster out of hiding!” He pulled the fish out of his cooler and tossed them in the water. “Now, we wait.”
A few minutes later, Tanner got tired of waiting and put his livestream on hold.
“This isn’t working,” he snapped at Tristan.
“Maybe the sea monster is a vegetarian?” Tristan offered.
He was rewarded with a glare. “That’s the dumbest thing ever. Who ever heard of a vegetarian monster? That was no veggie-eater that attacked me!” Suddenly, Tanner’s face brightened. “Or maybe… the monster prefers live bait. Bro, I’ve got another genius idea! You get in and go look for the monster!”
Tristan pretended to be reluctant, only complying when Tanner threatened to throw him in the water. In fact, this was exactly the opportunity he wanted; going to look for Twister without Tanner’s prying eyes on him. He pulled on his diving mask and fins and jumped into the calm blue surf.
Sunny met him about a hundred yards from the dinghy. “I found him!” she exclaimed. “And I think he’s okay!”
Tristan felt weak with relief. “Let’s go, then!”
Sunny led him up to the shoreline, which was covered by a net of mangrove roots. Hidden between the roots, just out of Tanner’s view, was Twister.
“Twister! Oh, thank goodness!” The water was shallow enough for Tristan to wade over to his friend. “Are you alright?”
The hippocampus gave him a lopsided smile. “I’ve got a little headache, but that the worst of it. Nothing a bit of rest won’t fix.”
Tristan checked his friend over just to be sure.
“Ahem,” Sunny honked. “Aren’t we going to address the elephant seal in the lagoon?” She jerked her head towards Tristan’s dinghy, where Tanner was having another one-sided conversation with his camera.
Twister squinted. “Who’s that? And why is he in Tristan’s dinghy?”
Tristan quickly explained the misadventure with Tanner and why he was after Twister.
“I tried to get him away from here, Twister, but he wouldn’t have it. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, Tristan. Besides, I have a plan to get this guy outta our manes.”
“Why bother?” Sunny hissed. “Let’s just skedaddle.”
“Because if we can convince Tanner and his audience that this ‘sea monster’ is a phony, no one else will come after me,” Twister explained. “I’ve got enough on my fins dealing with Washbuckler.”
“Makes sense to me,” Tristan said. “But are you sure you’re well enough?”
“Sure I’m sure. Now…” Twister lifted his bright blue tail out of the water. “I think the colors are close enough. May I have your diving fins, please, Tristan?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
“It’s been hours of waiting, and still no sign of the monster. But fear not, I have a feeling something real big is about to happen. And when it does, I’ll be ready.”
Tanner winked dramatically and held up the harpoon. Then he turned to glare at the peaceful, undisturbed ocean.
I’d better see something worth filming soon, he thought impatiently. But wait! What was that?
“Guys, I think I see our monster,” Tanner announced to the thousands he hoped were watching him right now. “Over there! It’s a blue tail, just like I saw in my last video!”
Tanner cranked up the motor on the dinghy to take a closer look. The tail was about four hundred yards away, in much deeper water. It would surface, wiggle a bit, dip beneath the waves, and surface again. Carefully, Tanner steered the dinghy towards it. Then the tail vanished!
“Oh my, it’s super close,” Tanner exclaimed, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “The monster must be directly below me! Wait… wha-?”
With a swift hand, Tanner seized the blue tail that had just surfaced beside his dinghy. There was something weird about it.
“Diving fins?!” he spat. “No! That’s not the mon— YA-AAH!”
Something bumped the dinghy from below. THUMP!
“It’s attacking!” Tanner yelled. “It’s attacking me!”
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! went whatever was beneath the dinghy. But it was small enough that its attacks wouldn’t be noticed to the people on the other side of the camera lens.
The daredevil-turned-monster-hunter was wild with fear and excitement. He scrambled for his harpoon, only to realize that it had gone missing. But that was impossible! It was right there just a few moments ago!
“I’m starting to think this was a mistake!” This time, he didn’t say it just to be dramatic. He actually meant it. “I’d better get out of here!”
The motor sputtered to life, and Tanner immediately took off as fast as the dinghy would take him. He didn’t stop to think about Tristan, or the fact that arriving at Key West in Tristan’s dinghy would look suspicious. He just wanted to get away.
And then it happened. Right on cue, a seagull flew overhead… something warm, slimy, and stinky landed squarely on Tanner’s head.
“Stupid bird!” Tanner snapped at the sky. At that moment, he realized he was still on air. His face turned bright red, and he was speechless with fury and embarrassment. Without saying a word, he switched off his camera and buzzed away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
Twister, Tristan and Sunny collapsed into a fit of laughter.
“Did you see that?” Sunny guffawed. “He yelled like I was a shark bumping his boat!”
“Using my diving fins was genius, Twister,” Tristan said.
“No, what was genius was you swiping the harpoon!” Twister responded. “That was some great stealth there!”
“I couldn’t have done it without you and your camouflage,” Tristan replied. “Tanner would have seen me if I wasn’t hiding behind you.”
“Ha ha, we all did great,” Twister said. “I wish I could’ve taken credit for the seagull poop, though. That was the perfect finishing touch.”
“I’m sure that video will get plenty of views,” Tristan said. “Think everyone will fall for our trick?”
“I sure hope so.” Twister rubbed his head.
“Are you okay?”
Twister grinned and winked reassuringly. “Sure thing. Now, since Tanner took off with your dinghy, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“You sure, Twister? You’re not hurt badly, but you could still use some rest.”
“There’ll be time to rest later,” Twister said. “First, we should get you to safety. Hop on.”
“If you see Tanner,” Sunny honked after them, “tell him that his show stinks!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
“I can’t believe I thought that guy was cool.” Sandy shook her head and tossed little pebbles into the harbor. A few days had passed since Tristan’s episode with Tanner. “What a jerk.”
Tristan scratched the back of his head uneasily. “I was a bit of a jerk myself,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did. Guess I was a little jealous.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly a shining example of kindness that day either,” Sandy said. “I should have believed you. I don’t even know Tanner, but you’re my friend. Besides, if Tanner would steal your dinghy and make up a sea monster for publicity, I’m sure he would spray you and bully you.”
Tristan smiled knowingly. Tanner’s “monster” was real, but Twister’s secret was safe. Not only had Tanner lost his credibility, he’d gotten into big trouble for using Tristan’s dinghy… when Tristan was nowhere in sight. Tristan imagined that Tanner wouldn’t be bothering them for a good long while.
“That’s all past, now.” He extended his hand to Sandy. “Friends?”
“Friends,” she said, shaking his hand.
Tristan offered to taking Sandy diving, but she declined.
“Mom needs my help in the shop. I’ve kinda fallen down on my duties with all that video-watching.”
“That’s alright. Next time.”
Tristan really meant it. He’d made up with Sandy, Twister was safe and recovering well, and Tanner was out of the picture. All was truly right in his island world.
For now…
|
Horse Gentler & West Australian | | 2026-01-26 16:48:43 | | YOU OTTER BE GOOD
“Marco!” a single voice called out over the playful sea breeze.
“Polo!” Two voices responded.
“Marco!”
“Polo!”
“Marco!”
“Polo!”
With a frustrated shake of her head, the Galápagos penguin opened her eyes.
“No peeking, Sunny!” said Tristan, the boy who had started the game.
“This game doesn’t make any sense,” Sunny honked. “What does ‘Marco’ and ‘polo’ even mean?”
“Marco Polo was the name of a famous explorer. I don’t know why we use his name for this game, though.”
A splash turned their attention to Twister, who had slapped the water with his brightly colored tail. “I think this game is fabulous,” he declared. “Plus, I like the way ‘Marco’ and ‘polo’ roll off the tongue. They’re such playful sounding words.”
As a hippocampus, Twister had the front half of a horse and the back half of a fish, so he was especially good at evading Sunny’s attempts to tag him. But of course, as the biggest of the three friends, there was also more of him to tag. Sunny finally caught him when he accidentally brushed her with his wispy green mane as he went by.
“Is Flash coming?” Tristan asked when they paused for a break. “This game is even more fun with more players.”
“I’m here!” A voice splashed. The head of a dolphin poked out of the sea. “Sorry I’m late. My cousin Cloud wanted to come too.”
A second dolphin appeared beside him.
“Hi, Cloud,” Twister called.
“Nice to meet you, Cloud,” Tristan said.
Cloud regarded them all with a smile. “Good morning. I’m very eager to spend the day with you. Flash says there’s never a dull moment for you guys.” Her manner was calm and easy, as if being polite was the most natural thing in the world for her. Tristan liked her immediately.
“We’re playing a cool new game Tristan taught us,” Twister said. “Want to learn?”
Cloud and Flash listened as Tristan explained the rules. The game resumed with Twister as it. He tagged Tristan, who tagged Sunny again, who tagged Flash. Flash was just beginning his turn when the whole game was interrupted.
“You’re playing a game? I want a turn!” A young otter’s face appeared just in front of Flash. The dolphin jumped at the unfamiliar voice.
“Ugh, why would you want to do that?” another young otter said. “That’s ridiculous. I would never play a game as rough as that. I might break a claw. Why can’t you he a proper otter, like me?”
“Zuzu, be nice to your sister,” an older, more flustered voice demanded. “Zaza, don’t interrupt these nice creatures.”
Twister smiled. “I recognize that voice. It’s Mrs. Otterdale!”
A larger otter swam up to them with two more kits on her back. She looked worn out; her whiskers were droopy, her fur was messy, and the clamshell hat she’d fashioned for herself was lopsided.
“Chip hungy!” one of the kits on her back exclaimed.
“Moth-er! But I want to play!” the kit named Zaza whined.
“I’m very, very sorry, all of you,” Mrs. Otterdale panted. She tried to collect her other two kits. “My pups seem to be— good gracious, a human!”
Zuzu swam up to Tristan and pulled on his shirt. “This is a very fashionable color. Can I have it?” she said.
“Zuzu! Zaza! Come here!” Mrs. Otterdale demanded. “We need to— Chip, that is not food!— be going to the— Zaza, I said come!”
“Poor lady,” Tristan heard Twister say under his breath. “She looks like she could use a break.”
Uh oh. Twister has that look on his face he gets when he’s got an idea. Tristan was about to speak up, but Twister beat him to it.
“Mrs. Otterdale, you look exhausted. Why don’t you take the day off? Have some time for yourself?”
“Oh, gracious, I couldn’t do that. I’m far too busy with— Zizi, don’t hold my tail while I’m swimming!— It’s my children you see, they’re— Zuzu, put that crab down!”
“We can look after your kids,” Twister said.
Sunny narrowed her eyes. “We?”
“Oh!” Mrs. Otterdale’s whiskers perked up just a little bit. “Could you? I mean, do you really think… I mean… they can be a bit of a handful.”
“It’s no bother, Mrs. Otterdale. I’ll take them back to my sea cave for the day. Then you can relax while my friends and I keep an eye on them.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful! Just what I need!”
“Um, Twister?” Tristan broke in. He tugged on the wispy green mane. “Can I have a word?”
He guided the hippocampus out of hearing range. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You remember how much work it was for your nurse shark, Mrs. G, to raise you. We’re talking about four energetic otter pups.”
“Sure I’m sure,” Twister said with a confident grin. “I’d thought about that too, Tristan, but it’s only for one day. Mrs. G raised me by herself, and there’s five of us to take care of the little fellows. But honestly, just look at poor Mrs. Otterdale. Don’t you see how exhausted she is?”
Tristan nodded. He could see, but he was still skeptical.
Twister patted his human friend on the back. “Don’t worry so much. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
Twister carried Zuzu, Zaza, Zizi, and Chip out to his island on his back. Sunny followed, and behind them, Cloud and Flash took turns towing Tristan’s dinghy. This helped the boat conserve gas; it was a long way back to Key West from Twister’s home.
The otter pups chattered excitedly about spending their day with Twister. He delighted them with his antics, and at long last, arrived at his home inside a sea cave.
And that was when chaos descended.
“Chip hungy!” the youngest and singular male otter declared.
“Right, we should see about snacks,” Twister said. “Cloud is probably going to—“
“Huuuuuuuuuuun-gy.”
“Hey! Get off me!” Sunny honked as Zizi latched on to her back.
Zaza dove underwater and came back up with a sea urchin. “Catch!” she yelled, hurling it at Tristan. Tristan yelped as he dodged the spiny missile.
“Oooooooh, this is pretty,” Zuzu said, grabbing a piece of blue sea glass that belonged to Twister’s collection. “I want it.”
“That’s not yours, Zuzu,” Flash protested.
“Chip hungy!” Fast as lightning, Chip snatched the smooth object from his sister and shoved it into his mouth.
“Aah!” Twister cried. “Chip! Spit that out!”
Flash and Sunny were chasing Zaza, and no one noticed where Zizi had vanished to. While Twister saved Chip from choking, Zuzu zoomed out of the underwater tunnel that served as the entrance to the cave. Everyone was in such a state of confusion that they all forgot who was watching which pup… until they looked around and realized all four otters were gone.
A very awkward silence followed. Only Twister dared to break it.
“Umm… where did they all go?”
Flash, Sunny, and Tristan exchanged uneasy glances. Twister slapped his face with his webbed forefoot.
“Great. Mrs. Otterdale is going to be so mad at me. I promised I’d look after them.”
“Well, can’t do that if you can’t even find them,” Sunny said dismissively.
“Sunny!” snapped Tristan, Twister, and Flash.
“What in the seven seas is going on in here?” Cloud appeared in the cave with a mouthful of fish she’d caught for the otters. “Where are the pups?”
“They… kinda ran off,” Flash explained.
“Ran off? Well, what are you all floating around for? Let’s go find them!”
“Right, right,” Twister said. “I promised Mrs. Otterdale. I have to find them.”
“We’ll all help, Twister,” Tristan said, patting his friend’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Tristan. Hop on. We’ve got some otters to catch.”
The five friends swam out of the cave and into the lagoon, calling out for the otter pups. They were expecting to have to search the whole Caribbean for any sign of the missing kits, so they were very surprised at Sunny’s announcement.
“I see one of them!” she squawked.
“Where?” Twister demanded.
“Up there!” Sunny pointed a flipper at one of the coconut palms that circled the lagoon.
Flash blinked. “In the trees? I thought otters didn’t climb trees.”
“They can, sometimes,” Tristan said.
At that moment, a long sleek body shot out from the palm fronds, sailed through the air, and landed in the next tree. It leaped again, curling into a neat forward flip before touching down on a third tree with perfect timing.
Well, this is going to be easy, Tristan thought. Beneath him, Twister had a panic attack. The hippocampus surged forward so fast, his rider toppled off backward.
“Zuzu!” Twister shouted, swimming as close to the trees as he could get. “That’s dangerous! Come down!”
The young otter glowered at him from her treetop. “I’m Zaza,” she said hotly. “I’m far more sleek and athletic than that stuck-up prissy-paws.”
“Right, Zaza. Sorry. Now, would you please come down here?”
“No way! This is the perfect physical challenge.” As if to demonstrate her point, she vaulted through the sky and landed on yet another palm trunk.
Twister swam back to his friends with a defeated look on his face.
“Now what?” Flash clicked. “I could… maybe I could wash her out of the tree? I bet I could splash that high.”
“No,” Cloud said firmly. “If she falls from that height, she could get hurt very badly.”
“Don’t look at me,” Sunny said. “I can’t fly.”
“I could climb up and get her,” Tristan offered. “I don’t mind. I’ve climbed lots of palm trees.”
Twister glanced at the tall, limber plants swaying in the wind. “Is that a good idea?”
“It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Tristan quickly discovered his plan wasn’t going to be as simple as he thought. He shinnied up the tree, and was just in arm’s reach of Zaza when the kit leaped over his head and onto the previous palm tree.
“Too slow!” she cackled, sticking her tongue out at him.
Tristan fought back his frustration and climbed down. He climbed the next palm tree swiftly and managed to grab Zaza’s tail before she could jump away again.
“Hey! Let go!” she hissed, swiping at him. Her claws connected with his hand, and Tristan instinctively jerked away. In that moment, he lost his balance and ended up dangling upside down from the thin trunk. His friends in the lagoon below gasped in dismay, but Tristan managed to hold on and climb down safely.
“Sorry,” he sighed as he waded back out to his friends. He inspected his hand, and was relieved to see that it wasn’t bleeding. “She’s too fast.”
Flash sighed, looking more deflated than ever. “So now what do we do?”
Silence. No one had any idea how to get the otter athlete out of the tree.
Until Cloud spoke up. “What if we could get her to come down to us?”
“Yeah, that’ll totally work,” Sunny said sarcastically. “Let’s build her an obstacle course or something.”
Twister’s face suddenly brightened. “That’s actually a great idea,” he said. Then he frowned. “But it’ll take a long time to build an obstacle course that Zaza would be interested in.”
“Maybe we could challenge her to a race?” Flash suggested.
“Or…” A new idea was bubbling in Tristan’s head. He looked at Twister. “How about a bucking bronco contest?”
Twister blinked. “A bucking bronco contest?”
Tristan whispered the explanation to his friend. Twister grinned and nodded.
“We’ll go look for the others while you’re at it,” Cloud said. “They can’t have gone too far.”
Zaza glowered down at them from her perch.
What losers, she thought. Not a sporty bone in their bodies.
Then she heard splashing and laughing down below. Zaza chanced a look. The human and hippocampus were locked in a strange kind of wrestling match. The boy sprawled across the sea creature’s back, clinging to his neck, while the hippocampus jumped and spun and twisted, trying to throw him off. The game looked like fun.
At last, the boy lost his grip and splattered into the water.
“Five seconds!” Zaza heard Twister say. “I think that’s a new record, Tristan!”
“Let’s go for six,” Tristan said, shaking his soaked blonde hair.
Six seconds? Zaza thought. I could do triple that, with three paws behind my back. She continued watching as Tristan tried to beat his measly record. Mysteriously, he never got past five seconds before Twister threw him off. Was he really that bad at this?
“Sorry, Tristan. Still only five seconds,” Twister announced for the millionth time. “Maybe you’ll beat it on the next go?”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Zaza blurted. She swarmed down the tree and into the lagoon. “A one-legged seagull could’ve beaten that record by now! Here, let me! I’ll show you how a real athlete does it!”
She scampered onto Twister’s back and made an indignant, determined face. The hippocampus grinned and began to flop, trying to dislodge her. Zaza skittered up onto Twister’s neck and buried her claws in his green mane. Twister began spinning in circles, angling carefully back towards the cave. His rider was now too dizzy to realize she’d fallen for the trick. All of a sudden, Twister dove and shot through the cave entrance like a bolt of blue lightning.
Even still, Zaza was determined to stay on him for as long as she could. Twister had to swim to the seabed and stay there until Zaza ran out of air and was forced to let go.
Cloud and Sunny came in right behind Tristan.
“Did you find the others?” the boy asked them.
“I heard one of them,” Cloud said. “She’s on an island, but it’s too big for me to reach her. It doesn’t seem that she’s going to go anywhere, though.”
“I actually found one,” Sunny declared. “And she’s a lot closer. But you’re not going to like where she’s at.”
Twister didn’t hear the last part. “We’ll take the closest one first,” he said. He shot a glance at Zaza, who was crowing about the amazing and unbeatable record she’d just set.
“I’ll stay to look after her,” Cloud said, reading his thoughts.
“Me too,” Sunny said quickly. She seemed determined not to be outdone. “But don’t you want to know—“
“Perfect. Come on, Tristan, let’s make some wake.”
“WAIT!” Sunny yelled. “I haven’t told you where my kit is.”
Tristan cocked an eyebrow at the penguin. Why was she making such a fuss about this? “Okay. Where did you find the second kit?”
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Today was the perfect day. Peace, quiet, and best of all, no incompetent crew around to annoy anyone with their antics.
“Clowns,” Simon Washbuckler grunted. He was sitting in a beach chair on the deck of his giant white yacht. He sipped his pina colada in a self-satisfied way. Usually he had three other people on the boat with him: Bootleg, who was annoying because of his dimwittedness, Barb, who was annoying because of his smugness, and Jessica who was annoying because she was Jessica. Washbuckler had dreamed of personally tossing each of them overboard on multiple occasions. But he couldn’t; he needed Barb’s expertise and Bootleg’s strength to catch the Sea Unicorn. And Jessica? Well, she was his niece, so he couldn’t let anything happened to her.
So he had to content himself with sending them all away for the day while he sailed out to a remote location to relax. He drank his drink, napped in the sun, and daydreamed about how rich he would be when he finally captured the hippocampus he’d chased for so long.
“Rich, rich, rich,” he muttered in his sleep.
Down in the water, two figures silently approached the yacht.
“Great,” Tristan muttered. “I was really hoping that Sunny was joking about the next otter being aboard Washbuckler’s ship.”
Twister’s emerald eyes scanned the ship. “I only see Washbuckler. I think I hear someone inside, but I don’t think it’s another human. Maybe he’s alone.”
“That might make our job slightly less dangerous.”
They watched and listened for a while longer. But no Barb or Bootleg or Jessica appeared on the deck; the only sound was the rumbling of Washbuckler’s snores.
“What should we do?” Tristan whispered to his friend.
Twister stirred the water. Both of them already knew the answer to that question, and neither of them liked it.
“I have to sneak on board.” Tristan answered himself.
“You’ll have to be very careful,” Twister told him. “If Washbuckler wakes up, I’ll signal you with the Penguin Warning Call. If he gets close to finding you, I’ll cause a distraction. He won’t be able to catch me without his buddies.”
Quietly, Tristan swam to the back of the yacht where he could climb aboard. Every muscle in his body was tense. If Washbuckler woke up and discovered them, it would be dangerous for both Tristan and Twister.
He tried to force his hands not to shake as he crept up to the window and peeked inside. He couldn’t see anyone in there, so he slowly opened the door to the cabin, an inner room where the crew could hang out. No human in sight, just a single otter pup cooing at herself in a mirror.
A mirror? Tristan said to himself. I was sure Twister and I had broken all of those. How many reflective surfaces does Washbuckler need?
“Zizi!” he whispered as loud as he dared. “Come on, we need to—“
The otter whirled on him, still holding the mirror. “I’m Zuzu,” she declared indignantly. She was way louder than Tristan thought was safe. “I’m much prettier than any of my siblings.”
“Okay, yes, sorry,” Tristan said quickly. “Now, we need to get off this boat, and right now. There’s a very—“
“But I don’t want to leave!” Zuzu thrust her chin out at him and pouted. “There must be at least a million beautiful things in here, and I want them all! Ooooooooh, look at this!” She picked up a compass. “Sooooo fancy. Would it be better as a necklace or a bracelet?”
“Zuzu, put that down!” Tristan knew that compass belonged to Barb, and he’d be very mad if it wandered away. He lunged for Zuzu, but she’d already moved. “Oooh, pretty. And ooooooooh, what’s that? I love this, and… whoaaaahhh, I love that color! This is sooooo fashionable…”
Now Zuzu had picked up a scrap of curtain, two chess pieces, one of Jessica’s fancy pens, and Bootleg’s toy kaleidoscope.
“You can’t take these things!” Tristan hissed at her. “Zuzu! Listen to me. We’re going—“
“AAH-HEE! AAH-HEE!”
The Penguin Warning Call! Washbuckler was waking up!
Tristan’s eyes darted around the room. There was no time to jump back into the ocean. He’d have to hide. But where?!
He heard Washbuckler’s heavy tread thumping up to the door. As the knob turned, Tristan dove behind the couch, praying that he wouldn’t be seen. If Washbuckler caught him…”
“Peace and quiet. Quiet and peace,” he heard the tubby man grumbling as Washbuckler entered the cabin. “Can’t get any rest with those noisy birds about. I have a mind to— AA-AAAH! A RAT!!!”
Zuzu screamed a high-pitched noise, which was remarkably similar to Washbuckler’s scream. Tristan tried to see what was going on through the gap between the floor and the couch. Washbuckler scooped up a broom and began tromping around the room, whacking things with it.
WHOMP! BOMP! CRASH! CRASH!
Zuzu was still screaming, and she began a mad dash around the cabin, over the furniture, across the floor.
CRASH! WHOMP! CRASH-SH-SH! THUD! THUD!
Washbuckler was still screaming. Books, dishes, and lamps fell to the floor.
WHOMP! BOMP! WHOMP!
Tristan had no idea how long the chaos went on. But suddenly, the screaming subsided, and two bodies thudded to the floor.
Slowly, uncertainly, he peeked out from behind his shelter. Washbuckler and Zuzu were sprawled on the floor, eyes closed, looking extremely pale.
Good gracious, Tristan thought. They’ve fainted!
He didn’t linger long. With one swift motion, he scooped up Zuzu, opened the door, and leaped over the side of the boat.
A few minutes later, Washbuckler came to.
“I had the strangest dream,” he muttered sleepily. “I dreamed that a rat broke into my boat and tried to steal all of my things. Then this strange boy appeared and took it away. And they left an enormous mess, and—“
At that moment he opened his eyes and saw the huge mess that was his cabin. And for once in his life, Washbuckler was too stunned to speak.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
Twister and Tristan dropped Zuzu off at the sea cave before heading off to the island Cloud had described. It was very small, with hardly any vegetation, and they heard nervous whimpering as soon as they approached it. Tristan spotted the otter almost immediately after.
“I see her!” he exclaimed. “She looks… caught on something I think?”
Tristan slid off Twister’s back and waded ashore. The hippocampus watched from the water a few yards away.
Indeed, the otter kit was caught in a leg trap, which had probably been set illegally. Tristan didn’t think she was hurt too badly, but the otter whimpered and flinched away from him as he approached.
“Can you help her?” Twister asked anxiously.
“I think so,” Tristan said. He paused, remembering their last encounters with the otter pups. “There’s no way this is Chip, right?”
“No, I think this is Zizi.”
Zizi sprang backwards when Tristan reached for the trap. She fell over, and cried as her leg wrenched painfully.
“She’s terrified.” Tristan felt a stab of pity for the otter. “I don’t think I can help her like this. She might hurt herself even worse this way. We need to calm her down.”
“Calm her down. Right,” Twister said. “What do otters find calming? Food? Shiny shells? Sea urchins? Agh, why do I not know enough about otter habits?”
A memory of his mother flashed into Tristan’s mind. He didn’t think about her much, and he didn’t remember a lot, but this memory was sharp and clear. He remembered his four-year old self waking up from a bad dream. He remembered that he couldn’t go back to sleep, so he called for his mom. She’d come in, tucked him back in bed, and sang a lullaby to him until he was dozing soundly again.
“Maybe…”
Twister looked at him. “Hmm? What’s that, Tristan?”
“It’s a silly idea, but… maybe we could sing to her?”
Twister’s face wrinkled. “Sing to her?”
“Yeah. My mother would sing to me to help me go to sleep. At least she did, when she was…” He trailed off, feeling a sharp aching in his chest. He didn’t feel very inclined to sing now.
“I don’t think that’s silly,” Twister said. “Mrs. G never sang to me, but maybe it’ll work for Zizi.”
“Great,” Tristan said. “What are you going to sing?”
“Wait. You want me to sing?” Twister shook his head. “I don’t think I’m that good. Plus, I only know one song, and it’s not real relaxing.”
“Just try, Twister,” Tristan grumbled, his grief shortening his patience.
Zizi whimpered.
“Ohhhh-kay.” Twister inhaled, then started singing in a very off-key voice:
“Nutritious and delicious,
Crunchy, salty, sweet;
Sargasso Sea’s
Gift to me,
Sargassum is a treat!”
Several seagulls darted into the sky, crowing with alarm at the horrible sound. Zizi covered her ears with her paws and whined one long, distressed note.
“Okay, never mind!” Tristan cried, waving his arms to get Twister to stop. He took a few deep, cleansing breaths. “It’s okay. I’ll sing to her. I can do this. I can do this.”
He relaxed, focusing on his breathing and his steadfast heartbeat. The waves shushed on the beach nearby. And then, Tristan opened his mouth and sang in a soft, soothing voice:
Lullaby, and good night, with pink roses bedight
With lilies o'er spread, is my baby's sweet head
Lay thee down now, and rest, may thy slumber be blessed!
Lay thee down now, and rest, may thy slumber be blessed!
Zizi stopped whimpering and looked up at him, her big eyes slowly draining of their terror. Tristan sang the verse again, and Zizi’s eyelids began to droop. She yawned and closed her eyes. A few minutes later, the even rising and falling of her chest indicated that she was fast asleep.
“You did it!” Twister whispered wonderingly. “That was incredible, Tristan!”
Without Zizi struggling, Tristan had no problem opening the trap and inspecting the otter’s leg. “Nothing broken,” he said, gently scooping up the furry body. “Let’s get her back to the others. Then we can go look for Chip.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
They returned to Twister’s Key to find Cloud and Sunny supervising two more drowsy otter kits.
“Good gracious,” Twister exclaimed. “How did you get them to go to sleep like that? Well, I know how Zuzu ended up in peaceful slumber, but Zaza?”
Cloud smiled at the energetic Zaza, who was now snoozing like her life depended on it. “I put her through a rigorous exercise routine,” she said matter-of-factly. “When I gave her a ten minute break, she took a nap. I haven’t bothered to wake her.”
“You seem to have a lot of experience with babysitting, Cloud,” Tristan noted, nestling Zizi beside her sisters.
Sunny looked flustered, and was rubbing her backside. “I have experience in sitting, too,” she objected. “I would sit my brother all the time back in my colony.”
Cloud aimed a wry smile at the penguin. “Otters are a bit… different than birds,” she said politely.
Tristan just then caught on to the fact that Sunny had tried to sit on Zaza, and her backside had met with the hyper otter’s sharp little teeth. He would never think of the term “babysitting” the same ever again.
“That just leaves Chip, then,” Twister said. “We’ll have to find Flash and hope he’s tracked down our little stray. Ready to go, Tristan?” Twister asked.
“You bet, Twister.”
“Then let’s make some wake!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
Flash ended up finding them thanks to his echolocation.
“I found Chip,” he announced breathlessly. “He was following a shrimping boat.”
“Oh no,” Tristan said. “He could get tangled up in those nets. We have to save him!”
“Lead the way, Flash,” Twister snorted determinedly.
Flash and Twister tore across the surf as fast as their tails would take them. Tristan pressed himself against the hippocamp’s smooth blue back, gripping Twister’s flanks with his legs in an effort to stay on.
“There’s the boat!” Flash called presently.
“You’d better camouflage yourself, Twister,” Tristan said. “We don’t want anyone to see you. I can ride with Flash.”
Twister nodded, and shimmered out of sight as his scales changed to match his surroundings. Only the movement of the water betrayed his presence. Tristan slid off his invisible friend’s back and clung to Flash’s dorsal fin.
Tristan squinted at the boat, studying it. It was a trawler, a boat that used nets to drag along the bottom and capture the shrimp buried in the mud. As they came closer, he saw the marking on the side of the boat; dirty white letters spelled out SADIE MAE in block capitals.
“I know this boat,” he announced. “That’s Captain Mark’s ship. I’m sure he’ll help us.”
A great variety of sea life gathered around the SADIE MAE as the boat began to pull in its nets. Birds hovered in the sky above, and sharks and dolphins from a different pod than Flash’s swam below. All waited patiently, anticipating an easy meal. But no otter was among them.
Or… wait. Was that…
“Chip!” Twister cried, so loudly that Tristan was worried the trawler workers would hear.
A small brown critter clung to the cables that drew the net aboard the boat. His shiny eyes caught sight of them, and he waved while simultaneously rubbing his stomach.
“Chip hungy!” he announced brightly as he and the net were hoisted aboard the boat.
“Oh no. Oh, bad. Oh, bad, oh bad bad bad bad!” Tristan gasped.
“What?” Flash cried. “I thought you said that Captain Mark was nice.”
“Captain Mark has a dog!” Tristan blurted. “I’ve got to get on that boat. Now!”
On the deck of the SADIE MAE, two burly, unshaven men emptied the nets. Hundreds upon hundreds of shrimp plopped onto the deck, along with tiny fish… and a single ravenous otter pup.
“Chip huuuungy!” Chip declared, stuffing his face with one of the crustaceans. However, the startled humans only heard vigorous otter noises.
In the same heartbeat, Princess, Captain Mark’s pit bull cross, leaped up from her nap with a bark of excitement. She barreled past the two men, Austin and Matt, who nearly lost their balance.
Chip seized another shrimp in his jaws and leaped away. Princess followed him in hot pursuit, yapping as though the world were ending.
With a boost from Twister and Flash, Tristan arrived onboard in the middle of the chaos. Scarcely had he assessed the situation when Chip made a fantastic jump and latched on to Tristan’s shirt.
“Mm-mmp h-mmgy,” the kit said around a mouthful of seafood. Then he flew away as quickly as he’d come as Princess leaped towards him.
“OOOFF!” Tristan yelped as she smacked into him. Her momentum nearly sent him toppling back into the water.
“The otter!” he barely managed to gasp. “Get— the otter!”
Chip was making a beeline for the shrimp pile again. Austin seized a bucket and tried to trap the kit with it. At the same moment, Matt lunged for Chip, missed, and ended up with his head accidentally trapped in Austin’s bucket.
“What in the blue blazes is going on out here?!” Captain Mark roared. He stepped out onto the deck, glaring at the disruption to his work.
Chip scurried between his legs, and Princess slid into him not two seconds after his arrival. Captain Mark pitched forward and landed face first into the pile of smelly, squirming shrimp. Sputtering, he struggled to his feet, turning a bright shade of red.
“Sorry Captain Mark!” Tristan blurted as he raced past. Chip had hopped up onto the brine tank, where the crew would toss the shrimp to be flash frozen. Princess tried to follow, but she was checked by a bucketful of water splattering into her. Two dolphins had begun flinging water up into the boat with their tails. Well, one of them was a dolphin; the other was Twister, who had shifted his scales to looks as though he was a dolphin. It wasn’t a perfect disguise, but one would have to look closely to see through it, and no one was interested in admiring the surrounding sea life at present.
“Hungy, hungy!” Chip said, staring down into the water.
“No, Chip, don’t!” Tristan cried, just as the otter slipped into the box. A yelp of surprise rang out a split second later as the cold water seeped into Chip’s fur.
Without hesitation, Tristan plunged his bare hands into the brine tank. The cold water bit into his flesh, crawling down to his very bones, but somehow he managed to grab the tiny, writhing body and haul it out. Tristan knew he had to get Chip warmed up, and quickly. He also needed to get him away from Princess, who was still held at bay by Flash and Twister’s splashing. Without wasting any more time in thinking, Tristan clutched Chip to his chest and vaulted over the side of the boat.
Poor Captain Mark was even more bewildered than Washbuckler had been. He rubbed his balding head, wondering if young Tristan White had actually been on his ship, or if he’d only imagined it. And what on earth had gotten into Princess? But shrimpers do exhausting work at hours that most people spend in bed, and this day had been particularly long. So Captain Mark decided that his sleepy brain had been playing tricks on him, and that his usually unflappable crew were so spent that they needed the next day or so off. Yes, rest would do them all very nicely.
Meanwhile, Tristan, Twister, and Flash were beating a hasty retreat with Chip in tow. The little otter was now quite comfortable after his plunge in the brine tank. He snuggled against Tristan’s chest.
“Chip hungy. Hungy. Chip… sleepy.” Chip began making drawly, sleepy noises. Before long, he had dozed off, his breathing peaceful and shrimp-scented.
“Well, whatddya know,” Twister snickered. “He does have more than two words in his vocabulary.”
“I guess all that food made him drowsy,” Tristan said, rubbing the kit on the belly. “He ate so much, his stomach is swollen.”
“I hope he doesn’t wake up anytime soon,” Flash said wearily. “Taking care of these otter pups is so exhausting. I need a nap now.”
“Yeah, I think I got more than I bargained for when I offered to babysit,” Twister said. “I just hope Mrs. Otterdale won’t be too mad with me.”
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><> ><> ><>
---------------------------------
About an hour later, Twister carried four dozing otter kits on his back, returning to the plane they’d met Mrs. Otterdale.
“I can’t believe they’re still asleep,” Flash remarked. “With all that energy, I was beginning to think they never slept.”
“Even the most energetic younglings need rest,” Cloud explained. “In my experience, when they finally settle down enough to feel tired, they’re very tired.”
Twister had decided that he would tell Mrs. Otterdale the truth about losing her kits. Flash and Sunny had tried to talk him out of it, stating “all’s well that ends well.” Tristan and Cloud had advocated for honesty. In the end, all four of them decided to support Twister as he faced the otter matriarch.
Mrs. Otterdale met them among some mangroves. Her whiskers were straight, her fur was smooth, and her clamshell hat was in its proper place. “Good day, dear fellows! I hope my kits weren’t too much trouble. I— oh, good gracious!”
She peered at her kits, who were all still snoozing soundly. “How ever did you get them to sleep like that? And all at the same time, no less.”
Twister glanced uneasily at his friends. Cloud and Flash nodded reassuringly. Tristan swam to his friend’s side and put his hand on the blue shoulder.
I’m here for you, buddy, his hand seemed to say.
“Mrs. Otterdale,” Twister began slowly. “I need to tell you something.”
The hippocampus explained all the events of the day, how they lost and recovered each of the kits. Throughout the course of his tale, Mrs. Otterdale didn’t seem angry. In fact, she looked pleased.
“Now, this is most astonishing,” she said. “I lose my kits nearly every day. Sometimes I don’t get them back until they come for supper. But you managed to retrieve them all and get them to sleep!” Her eyes gleamed with admiration. “You are a remarkable caretaker, Twister.”
Twister scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, I had help,” he admitted, smiling at his friends.
“Perhaps I should ask you to care for the kits again next week.”
There was a heartbeat of mortified silence. Even Sunny seemed to turn a few shades paler. And then the excuses tumbled out like a downpour.
“That’s very nice of you, but I—“
“I need to go check on my dad.”
“I need to visit my sister.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m busy then.”
“I gotta see a guy about a dogfish. Sorry.”
And just like that, Twister, Tristan, Flash, Sunny, and Cloud departed, leaving Mrs. Otterdale and her family in puzzled, pleasant silence. |
Horse Gentler & West Australian | | 2026-04-08 18:30:43 | |
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