6. The Sea Monster
The investigation on Barbala had taken several weeks. Nobody knew who the burglar could have been or how they arrived on the island. Why they hadn’t destroyed Paunet’s ship instead of leaving a threat to do so, posed an even larger riddle.
Paunet had found several more odd objects since then. An extinguished torch on a deserted strand of beach. Two rusty swords, hastily dropped into the grass patch behind the harbor. Every shadow seemed to hold an enemy spy now. The war wasn’t over; it had become secret.
He was afraid to visit his own ship, especially at night. He let the work continue, but kept to the sunlight outdoors himself. From the outside, the ship seemed built according to plan, but the extra gold that Paunet had received was used for a different interior. A beautiful room for himself, decorated with colorful carpets and the finest silk. A wardrobe, of course, and a library.
This left little space for his crew. And all those enemies he’d capture, obviously. Which is why he secretly made the ship slightly larger in all directions.
“I fear I have to ask a final bag of gold coins,” Paunet started, “for several setbacks—”
The President cut him off. “Setbacks? Of course. How unexpected.”
Paunet frowned and feigned surprise. “Yes, most regretful, I say too. I’d have wished the ship was already done! But first the burglary, then the threats aimed at my crew, and then—”
“Yes, very serendipitous. Precisely the day you claim the war isn’t really over, a message appears on your ship that seems to confirm it.”
The President looked stern and kept his ears glues to his neck, like a mouse trap that could spring at any time. “Precisely as your project runs into trouble, there’s a burglary and you convince the entire island it needs more ships.”
Paunet’s beak hung wide open and he pretended to be hit right in the heart. “Do you accuse me of … treachery?”
“I don’t accuse you of anything. Nor will I give you a single gold coin more.”
His heart raced. Would it be enough? Would the ship actually be finished now?
“Well, then I guess I’ll hunt our common enemies using a ship without a bow and only one half cannon.”
“No, no, no, Paunet. It’s done.” The President turned away. “Stop telling stories, stop promising, stop asking for money.”
Paunet’s wife walked up to them, his daughter under her wing again. She wouldn’t fit there much longer. When did my daughter grow so tall?
The President leaned forward. Even though he whispered, the aggressive words shocked Paunet to his core.
“And most of all: stop lying to those who care about you.”
He greeted her warmly. They spoke briefly, but her eyes were fixed on Paunet. A down of hares eventually pulled the President away with questions about building permits and stray coconuts, which left him and his wife standing alone on the square.
“Dear, we must talk,” she started.
“Is this about dinner again? I promise I’ll be home.”
“It is not about dinner!” his wife yelled. Paunet shrunk back. She pushed him to an even more silent and isolated part of the beach. “Sorry, but you can be so blind sometimes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my beautiful eyes, Paula.”
Paula pointed at the sea, which glistened in the sun and undulated carelessly.
“They say there’s a curse infecting the water.”
“I should’ve never let you read that letter,” Paunet said, shaking his head. “The curse is a made-up fairytale, say I, and everyone knows it.”
“They say there’s a beast there. A sea monster. And the beast must be fed. The stories started at the Dolphin Pass, but now the same story is told everywhere.”
“The Caribean and the Dolphin Pass are on opposite sides of the world! There is no reason to wor—”
“And everyone knows that a beast must be fed. The larger the ship, the tastier the morsel.” Paula wrapped her feathers around herself, as if she was overcome by cold. “Still men keep sending larger and larger ships to the sea. Still they keep feeding the beast.”
“If the enemy builds a ship, and you don’t, then your island is soon in the possession of said enemy.”
“Not anymore. It’s a time of peace, remember? War is over?”
Paunet didn’t follow. “You read the letter, right? And all the odd objects I told you about?”
Her beak closed shut with a loud clack. “I have, through tremendous effort, found six good friends to fill my life. Three of them have had to raise their children alone, for years now. Their men sought the adventures of the ocean, with a shiny ship and shiny words, and they merely fed the beast.”
Her eyes spit fire, brighter than sunlight. “Don’t tell me the curse is made up. It exists. In the heart of anyone who leaves behind his loving family for the open sea.”
He shivered, from skull, to spine, to toe. That’s what it was about.
She knew he was building that ship.
You didn’t build a gigantic ship to display it in your backyard. Especially not if it cost the entire fortune of your family. You build it to sail away.
“But for some,” Paunet spoke softly, “the sea might be the only right place. Don’t ask a fish to live on the land, or a bird to live underground.”
Paula cried. Her feathers shook. “But you can ask them why they’re not happy at this place. What gave them the idea they had to find a different home. What one might change to make their current home worth staying for.”
“I think … I think they’d answer, if you asked, that it’s not about the place. That there’s a curse in their heart which calls for adventure and exploration. That no single place would ever do—for they want to visit a new one ever day.”
“Well, well, well, then I think they should consider their answer a little longer and with less stupidity!”
Paula stood and ran into the busiest area of the beach. Their daughter played there, and waved absently to her father as she continued building a sand castle. His wife took her under her wing and stormed back to their estate.
He’d never seen his wife like that. Such passion, such emotion. Everything had always been … fine. No big troubles, but also no big joy or relief. Their daughter was silent, well-behaved, and never got in the way. The ideal daughter. That’s what Paula told all those friends of hers.
That’s what the entire island said about them. The ideal family.
He’d rather have had the opposite.
A daughter that dove into adventures every day. Who regularly broke something, or got lost, or at least did something new and exciting.
The sea monster had to be fed. Paunet hoped he could do it with the ships of others.
Lacking support from the President, he’d have to change a few things. He could only pay for a small crew. Perhaps he could have the best cannons, but he lacked Soliduri for ammunition. He certainly couldn’t replicate the luxuriance of his estate.
It didn’t frighten him anymore. The excitement of his new life, of defeating enemies at sea, had subdued all other feelings.
He’d travel the seas on the largest ship ever build, whatever it took. In fact, the President’s distrust would only make his plan easier, the goodbye simpler.
A dot appeared at the sky, grew bigger and bigger, and then crashed into the waves mere meters before his beak.
A parrot with a wooden lag stumbled onto the beach in a panic.