A Hostage Situation

The sun was high in the sky, the sea was serene, and Polly had become one with the rock. For what reason could the lax lass have decided to stick herself to a large, gray, inanimate object? Well, Polly quite enjoyed her title Polly the Pirate, and was in no hurry to have it changed to Polly the Prune.

It was only natural for her to hightail it out of the water as soon as she noticed she was wrinkling up like a grape about to spoil. The rock, now that the kiwis were no longer hogging up space, was just large enough for Polly to make like a Victorian lady and drape herself across it as if she was feeling faint from wearing an overly tight corset.

Of course, Polly could have returned to The Birbalinda to hide from the unforgiving glare of the sun, but she needed a change of scenery. Though she loved the boat, Polly was a staunch believer of the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. And that is how the traveler ended up plastered like a large piece of fabric to a slowly heating up stone, hoping that the sun would have mercy on her and not give her any weird tan lines.

Polly held the fishing pole loosely, but the minute she felt a tug, her grip tightened. The pull was a small one, but it was significant enough to jolt Polly out of her daydreaming, today’s daydream being about how nice it would feel to be a pancake being flipped. It was something she actually thought about quite often. Polly was rather fond of the idea of being floppy and circular and getting tossed sky-high, only to smack back down onto a warm, flat surface.

Just as soon as the tug came, it was gone. Then it returned a hundred times stronger.

“No,” thought Polly, realizing just how strong the pull really was. “It’s over 9000.”

Polly was yanked from her perch in an instant and found herself up in the air, arcing towards wherever Evangeline was summoning her from.

She had always wanted to try flying, but not as a poorly designed kite. To make matters worse, the poor gal was alone. Fethar was sunbathing on the rock, and the kiwis had all but become aquatic creatures. It had been awhile since she had last traveled solo, and she hadn’t missed it a bit.

“When I was young, I never needed anyone,” sang Polly mournfully. She forced a tear out of an eye for the drama, though she wasn’t really all that sad because she was sure she’d be reuniting with her buddies sooner or later. It was just that her one meeting with Captain Trixx had ingrained the absolute must for pizzaz in even the most mundane of activities within her.

“Don’t wanna be all by myself...anymore.” Polly sang as though she were a graying widow whose friends had all passed on, leaving her alone in a cold and empty house with webs on its walls and dust on its floors. The dreary scene she projected couldn’t have been more at odds with the day’s lovely weather.

Polly was about to start a rendition of ‘Mr. Lonely’ that she was positive would bring tears to even the most frozen of stone cold hearts, but before she could begin belting away, it was time to land. The not-an-aircraft flexed her muscles to the max to ensure she landed on the water, not in it, as she didn’t have the patience to toast on a rock again to become dry and crispy.

Before her was Evangeline and who Polly could only assume to be the wretched cult leader from Evangeline’s tale. Polly sat herself down on the water so she could get a better look at the two without having to bend down.

To her surprise, the yellow and gold specimen was not in any sort of bindings as one would expect a captive to be. Were they not a captive? But before she asked that, there was something else on her mind.

“Evangeline my good sir, I would just like to know...how?” The pirate had no problem believing she had been yanked more than a few miles through the sky, but she struggled believing that it was a creature smaller than her hand that didn’t even have hands that pulled off that herculean feat.

With no Fethar for quick translation purposes, Polly and the other fish had to wait for Evangeline to spell out her end of the conversation.

~It’s simple. U lack hatred.~

“I mean yay, but also nay?” Polly’s brow wrinkled with confusion, as if that would add a wrinkle or two to her brain to help her figure things out. It did not.

~I had 2 do it 2 them.~

“Ok,” replied Polly. She figured that was probably the best explanation she’d be getting, and she’d only be wasting her time trying to find out more. “So why’d you bring lil ‘ol me on over?”

~U probs already kno, but this isn’t d leader. He’s a hostage. I found him swimming about, and then I came I saw I conquered. He keeps insisting he knows nothing, and I don’t buy it. I need ur help 2 make him talk. D only reason he isn’t swimming away rn is bc I told him I’d kill him if he did.~

Polly had not realized that the fish beside Evangeline wasn’t the cult leader, and she had no doubt that Evangeline was dead serious when she said she’d kill her fellow fish if he dared dash.

She considered for a moment trying to talk the fish out of killing her prisoner, but upon remembering how that bite-sized body was strong enough to swing her so far away from her rock that she couldn’t see it now even if she squinted really hard, Polly figured it’d be in her best interest to walk the path of silence.

~Idk what she’s talking abt.~

Unlike Evangeline who blew each bubble individually, this fish blew them in a stream and moved around in the shape of the letter. Polly chalked it up to be a cultural difference, and something that Evangeline was hopefully planning to pick up.

~None of my ppl would ever do smthn like lead a cult. Wait! I remember u. U were d one on d boat that was on top of our side of 12th. Y’all just wouldn’t stop blocking the light smh.~

Polly put some thought into the fish’s words, and realized he was right. She wasn’t one to pay attention to trivial things like if a fish was yellow and purple or purple and yellow, so she had failed to notice that the fish that had stopped by The Birbalinda were indeed of the yellow and purple sort.

The letter from those fish had not been in the easy peasy lemon squeezy, and most importantly, understandable international language Mimglish, which the fish before her, that was supposedly from the same group, was currently writing in. Polly could only wonder why.

“Wait if you guys understand Mimglish then why didn’t y’alls write the letter to us in Mimglish?” asked Polly.

The fish did not react. Polly then remembered that when she had tried to speak to the yellow and purples, it wasn’t possible. Yet conversations went swimmingly with Evangeline? Polly wasn’t sure if it was just her, but she could smell smoke and she was 90% sure it was from her brain overheating due to overwork. Folks like her just weren’t equipped to do that much thinking in a day.

Out of the kindness of her little fish heart, Evangeline took it upon herself to explain a thing or two to the lost lass.

~I’m from Clan Swole ‘n he’s from Clan Vroom. My ppl r not only d fish with d most gainz, but our senses r swole 2. Tho we’re already v strong, my hatred has fueled my power, which is how I was able to swing u from there 2 here. Clan Vroom is all abt d need 4 speed. However their hearin’ ‘ isn’t d best. My hostage tells me his folks didn’t write in Mimglish bc it’d take them 2 long 2 translate ‘n they figured y’all’d be fine, ‘n y’all were. Sometimes clan members switch around, which is how we ended up with a Clan Vroom member in Clan Swole. I didn’t think much of it bc it was smthn that had always happened, but I never suspected that a member of Vroom would b tryna sabotage my ppl. It’s possible d whole clan had a hand in this.~

“It adds up,” said Polly who despite her use of the phrase, had never been a math whiz.

~Time 2 get crack a lackin. I’d bet good money this Vroom member knows smthn.~

Now knowing what she did, Polly couldn’t help but feel a smidgeon of concern for the poor captive. He seemed like a pretty chill dude who really didn’t know what was going on. He reminded Polly of herself back when she was trying to understand all the drama that was going on at Sea Island 4.

“Non-finned thing help pls,” wrote the hostage. Polly didn’t appreciate being referred to by what appendages she didn’t have, but she could see the desperation in the bubbles and it stirred her soul like a chef would their soup.

“I think we should give the poor guy a listen,” suggested Polly. “I mean if he ain’t running and we’re still waiting on the cult leader to appear, we might as well, right?”

Evangeline narrowed her eyes, and the focused glare from her glowing red eyes reminded Polly vaguely of a laser pointer.

“You’d spare an accomplice to murder,” wrote Evangeline in a font noticeably more slanted than her previous writings.

“To think that you’d think that I’d think that? Why I’d never,” gasped Polly, scrunching her eyebrows and sticking her hands to her hips.

~No rest 4 d wicked.~

“Never have I ever in all my days, and I’ve lived for a good few days, met someone so edgy. You’ve got more edge than a regular decagon. Why not tone it down to at least a heptagon?”

~Can’t. My clan was killed ‘n I’ve gotta avenge them.~

“Oof my bad. That one was on me, but I still think giving that other fish a chance to say what he’s gotta say would be the right thing to do. It’s not like you’d lose anything by it, or would you?”

The hostage nodded with fervor. Evangeline folded her fins.

~Make it quick.~

Polly wondered if the “quick” part was necessary, for hadn’t the furious fish said something along the lines of the hostage’s clan’s defining trait being that they were a speedy bunch?

The hostage began jabbering away, and Polly was left with no choice but to hope that Evangeline would be kind enough to transcribe the highlights of their convo. Oh how she longed for the selectively useful hair accessory that was Fethar. As though her close companion could hear her thoughts, which it could when they were in Polly’s hair, it arrived.

Fethar drifted down from the sky, carried only by the faintest of winds. The sun’s rays illuminated it with a golden glow, and against the backdrop of the clear blue sky, the single plume boasted a degree of splendor that even the most majestic could hardly compare to.

Indeed, even a king with a crown of solid gold lavished in jewels, and covered in a cape of only the finest furs was little more than a candle compared to the blazing bonfire of beauty that was Fethar floating to Polly.

“‘Oh how I tried to make haste but woe, the wind would not have me fly to your side,” sighed Fethar. “Had the breeze blown but with slightly more might, I would have come to your aid that much sooner.”

“No problemo buddy,” replied Polly. “I’m just thanking the stars above that you dropped by at all. If there’s one thing for sure I can say the P in Polly doesn’t stand for, it’s patience. And if I’m going to be one hundred percent real, watching these fellas blow bubbles was about as much of a would do again as dying my hair by coloring each strand of hair one at a time. Been there, done that, and no it did not slap.”

“If you’d allow me the honors,” said Fethar.

“On it,” Polly replied.

Polly wasted not another minute before plucking Fethar from the air and laying them on the surface of the sea. Fethar, being the top-notch unpaid translator they were, began giving Polly the run-down as soon as it was released.

“It appears that after the storm started, this gent and his clan began their descent towards their region of Twelfth. However, a particularly strong current tore the lad away from the group and he had to travel back home by his lonesome self.”

“As the good sir in question was swimming homeward bound, he was found by Evangeline who seized him within an instant and began demanding information about the cult leader. It was mere moments after that you arrived and took a seat, and then I made my most splendid entrance. That just about brings us up to date.”

Polly stood up and stretched, for she’d been sitting down for a good while longer than she was used to. As she leaned from one side to another, she heard a concerning amount of cracks and pops. She hoped she hadn’t broken anything.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve stretched recently,” remarked Fethar.

“What do you mean doesn’t seem, you know I haven’t stretched recently,” huffed Polly.

“Anyways, so Evangeline, it doesn’t look like this guy has done any wrong.”

Evangeline’s laser beam eyes had yet to return to their former, unsquinted selves, so Polly assumed that she still had her doubts.

What makes u think we can trust what he’s saying.

Polly had to admit Evangeline had a point. She’d always been honest and she’d also always trusted what pretty much anyone told her, so she figured everyone else would be the same. Now that Polly thought about it, her going with the flow everytime was probably what had landed her in so many janky situations.

“Innocent until proven guilty? Also aren’t clans sorta big? I think it’d be pretty normal to not know what everyone in your clan is up to, ya feel?”

The purple and gold fish was about to respond when the catch of the day came in.

No doubt about it, the fish that entered the scene was the cult leader. Everything about them screamed cult leader. Seeing them, Polly could only wonder how she ever assumed that the hostage stuck with Evangeline was the cult leader. And now, she truly understood what Evangeline was saying when she said that the cult leader looked wack.