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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.
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Horse Gentler & West Australian | | 2025-09-29 14:53:10 | |
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