A Capital Experience

Though the food looked top-notch, Polly still felt on edge. She had been fooled once by appearances and she was darned if she’d be fooled again. Her concerns were somewhat lessened by the fact there were others in the restaurant who looked like they were enjoying what they were eating, but not by much.

Their mouth was full with green noodles, but that didn’t stop SAT from squawking out, “The food’s good.”

“You said the same thing about the sandwich.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

Polly picked up a single noodle from her bowl of beef noodle soup with the wooden chopsticks that the server had brought alongside the dish. It was a thick noodle that looked hand-pulled, her favorite kind, and it looked like everything a noodle should. She could find no fault with its appearance.

“Didn’t know you were the kind of fledge to play with your food.”

“I’m not, I’m carefully inspecting it. Just because you only have two taste buds doesn’t mean that the rest of us do.”

“Don’t knock it til ya try it.”

Polly let the noodle join its kin back in the bowl and tightened her ponytail as she steeled her nerves. It was now or never, do or die. With trembling hands she pulled up a few noodles and bit. And she swallowed. And she realized that SAT was right. And so she picked up some more noodles and took a swig of the soup and chewed the chunks of beef.

“I do declare this restaurant deserves better than to be called Not Half Bad Food,” stated Polly as she set her chopsticks down beside her bowl that had been emptied down to the last drop. The dish looked like it had been just washed.

“That warms my heart, my dear,” said a voice from behind Polly, causing the girl to spin her head around.

Behind her stood a slender woman whose head was close to brushing the ceiling. Her dark locks were pulled into a neat bun secured with a hairnet, and she wore a white apron with the word ‘noodle’ printed on it in an assortment of languages.

“Are you the owner of this restaurant?” asked Polly.

“The owner and the main chef,” she beamed.

“Nice to meet you! I meant what I said, the food here’s really good. I would definitely come back again, and that’s not something I can say for all the restaurants I’ve been to.”

“Pleasure to meet you as well, my dear. I’m glad to know that even with the restaurant name being what it is there are still customers who’ll come and enjoy my food.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up with Not Half Bad Food as the name of your restaurant. I’m guessing it wasn’t your first pick?”

“Oh my dear it most certainly wasn’t. Ah, it may not be common knowledge to foreigners but the royal word of King Rightbread decrees that all restaurants that do not sell a bread related food as their primary dish must have the words ‘half bad’ in their name. ‘Tis unfortunate but alas it is a trial that must be overcome.”

“Oh, oof.”

“I can take these,” smiled the head chef who began picking up the empty dishes. With practiced ease she scooped up the bowls and plate and glided away so smoothly that Polly had to look down at the chef’s feet to confirm her suspicions. Indeed, Polly’s hunch had been right and the lady was wearing roller skates.

“Shame Ed couldn’t join us,” remarked Polly while counting out the coins she needed.

“A shame indeed,” nodded Wiki. “Though she’s probably making some practice sandwiches with Mr. Croix and eating those.”

“Well we can always come back. We’ll be here for three weeks, and the food here’s a pretty good price. Would pay again.” Polly stood after she had paid the bill and headed toward the restaurant’s exit feeling satisfied with both her meal and experience.

As the trio departed the kindly owner called, “Come again dears!”

Polly waved back, “We will,” and felt an extra bounce enter her step.

It was nearing the middle of the night and Polly had never felt more awake. The crisp bread scented breeze blew across her face and through her ponytail. For a second she was reminded of the nights she spent on The Birbalinda simply laying on deck and admiring the blanket of stars in the sky. Though she knew it was necessary, it pained Polly to be away from her ship and the sea for so long. The salty smell in the air, the rocking of the waves, the sound of the water around her, they were all things she missed. However, she wasn’t about to lose sleep over being sad and was determined to make the most of her time on Sea-Island 6.

The crew’s first stop were the vendors with pizza painted carts. To Polly’s great surprise there were Sea-Island 6 souvenirs like magnets and picture frames alongside the other more practical items like ingredients.

“I guess the tourist industry here is pretty big,” remarked Polly. “What if I collected souvenirs from every island I visited. Would you guys count as my Sea Island 4 souvenirs?”

“Call me a souvenir one more time and I’ll stab a souvenir in your leg with my beak,” snapped SAT. The displeased bird gave Polly a solid warning poke causing the girl to give a yelp and a fast apology.

“It’s never too late to start collecting,” offered Wiki. “In fact if you’re going to be collecting you should probably start now. You’ve already missed our island and Twelfth.”

“True true.”

“I suggest you wait before making a purchase,” interjected Fethar as Polly picked up a magnet that had piqued her interest. “It is quite common for multiple vendors to offer the same object, and some vendors may be selling it at a heftier price than what it is actually worth.”

Polly eyed the magnet’s price tag and decided that Fethar was absolutely right.

They wandered around The Capital until the sky began to lighten and rays of orange from the sun began to spread. Polly was dead on her feet, she hadn’t walked non-stop for hours in a while, and wanted nothing more than to sink into the luxurious beanbag she knew awaited her at Melonpan. To make matters worse, her arms were laden with bags because the kiwis had insisted they pick up goods they were certain Ed would like. Polly had pointed out they still had over two weeks to go shopping, but her words fell on deaf ears.

“Imagine life without feet,” sighed Polly. “Imagine being a snake who could just slither around and not need to rest for two hours after walking for ten minutes.”

“Wouldn’t their stomach muscles hurt?” questioned Wiki.

“Do I look like a snake? Do I look like someone who would know the answer to that question?”

“Stop being such a grump. You did this to yourself. If you’re too weak to stay up this late then ya should’ve told us,” frowned SAT.

“It’s not even that late though,” Wiki commented. “The sun isn’t even all the way out.”

Polly made a sound that did not sound very human.

“You know what, let’s drop off the fledge at the motel. We’ll go pick up Ed. We can’t have the fledge hitting the hay on us in the middle of the street.”

The tips of Wiki’s wings somehow molded themselves into the shape of a thumbs up.

And so Polly was marched back to Melonpan with her two bird escorts.

“In you go fledge. And I’ll take a key so we can pop in tomorrow without having to wait for you to wake up. Can’t have you waking up in the evening again if we’re going to do as we said and help out Mr. Croix.”

“Here you go and thanks a bunch SAT,” yawned Polly as she handed over one of her two room keys. “Can I have a key to y’alls room too? Don’t want to have to wait three years for you guys to let me in like you did earlier.”

“Take ‘em away you sad sack of bones,” replied the kiwi, handing over theirs.

The pretty much passed out pirate was practically pushed into her room by the somehow still wide awake avians. She collapsed onto the beanbag and wondered how she even considered herself tired yesterday when she was infinitely more exhausted today. Finally at peace she closed her eyes, only to feel herself being aggressively stabbed seconds later.