The Birth of Venus
“Hrnnng, what do you want,” Polly half groaned, half snarled. She had wrapped herself in a tight and thick blanket of burritos, yet she could still feel the sharp point of a beak jabbing at her.
“Rise ‘n shine, a new day has dawned. Or more like it’s noon now,” cawed SAT who had clearly decided today was the day they tried out for the position of local rooster.
Polly cracked an eye open though she very much did not want to. The sun’s sharp rays stabbed at her and she fought the urge to roll over and play dead like an opossum.
“How many hours did I get to sleep?” asked Polly, hoping that she’d hear a number like eight or nine. If she heard a relatively high number she felt like she’d be able to placebo effect herself into feeling rested.
“Six.”
Six hours of sleep wasn’t half bad to Polly. It wasn’t how long she’d sleep for in a perfect world, but she’d had less on days she had to take important tests. However, it also wasn’t enough for her to make a last ditch attempt to convince herself that she was a well-rested, bright-eyed, full of vigor, and happy to be alive young girl ready to start her day off with a bang.
“Arghhh.”
“She changed species while we were away,” muttered Wiki to SAT. “She’s a zombie now.”
“Unlike that lump, zombies move.”
Polly felt another sharp jab to her leg.
“I’m moving, I’m moving,” wheezed Polly as she began to slowly crawl out of her cocoon of blankets.
“Sure ya are. Ed stopped by here for a short nap and is already back with Mr. Croix, if you were wondering. Turns out they get along swimmingly so we were worried for nothin’,” said SAT.
“Good for them. So then why do we need to be there?”
“Ed cooks, not advertises, which you’re supposed to be in charge of.”
“Ah, you’re right. Guess I’m not fully awake yet.”
“Anyone with half a brain could’ve figured that out. Also what happened to you moving?”
Polly had paused her attempt to leave her bundle of warmth and had hoped the kiwis wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately for her, both kiwis had eyes and those eyes… could see.
Wiki looked at SAT. SAT looked at Wiki. Polly looked nervous.
“So it’s come to this,” sighed Wiki grimly.
The two kiwis hopped over Polly who was still lying down, they had been standing in front of her, and landed right behind her. With no warning at all, they rolled her off the beanbag bed and toward the door, pushing with their beaks.
“ Aaaaa, I’m moving for real, you guys can stop,” cried Polly as she began rapidly wiggling herself out of her man-made sushi roll.
“That went better than expected.”
“Sure did. Look at the fledge go.”
After Polly had hurriedly combed and tied up her tragically tangled brown hair so she didn’t look like she had just spent three years in the wilderness, the three were out the door to finally meet up with Croix and Ed.
“So Mr. Croix finally has a sellable product?” questioned Polly as they walked.
“According to Ed he’s almost there, and that was while you were asleep. I think his goods should be ready for sale soon,” replied Wiki.
“Ah, I see, I see.”
When the trio arrived at Croix’s place, the first thing that hit them was the pleasant aroma of a grilled cheese grilling.
“Looks like they’ve been hard at work,” noted Polly.
The kiwis nodded, and the three entered.
Polly wasn’t prepared to see sky-high mountains of grilled cheese sandwiches stacked on every surface that wasn’t the floor, but there they were in all their towering glory.
“I thought you said Ed would eat all the practice sandwiches.” Polly turned to the birds, concern beginning to dawn on her face. “Unless those aren’t practice sandwiches…”
“Polly, it’s a pleasure to see ya again,” beamed Croix, emerging from the kitchen. Ed followed closely behind. “Have a sandwich.”
All the bad memories returned to Polly at once as she picked up the sandwich nearest to her and stared at it. Just like before, it looked picture perfect. Polly sniffed it, which she hadn’t done the first time she tried one of Croix’s sandwiches and didn’t notice anything off about it.
“Is it that you lack faith in my teaching capabilities?” questioned Ed as Polly eyed the sandwich from every angle possible. “Fear not for I have taught the man well.”
Polly temporarily left the dimension to go 4D for one last look at the sandwich to make sure she hadn’t missed anything for she would spare no effort in being cautious this time around. Her taste buds deserved that much at least.
Fortunately, it turned out doubting Ed was a mistake and she hadn’t needed to be so wary after all. The bird truly knew her stuff, teaching included, for what Polly ate could only be described as perfection. There was just the right amount of crispiness to the grilled cheese’s toast to give it a delightful crunch, the cheese stretched for days, and somehow to top things off, the sandwich was still warm.
“Wow.”
Ed looked unbelievably smug, though Polly wasn’t sure how a bird could make the facial expression Ed was making at the moment considering beaks aren’t as expressive as mouths. Croix wore a triumphant grin, and he and Ed exchanged a hi-five.
“I’m plannin’ on trying to get the word out tomorrow,” said Croix. “So what was the free sample thing you mentioned earlier?”
“Ah yes, free samples. Well, uh, where I’m from there were some salespeople who would offer a bit of their goods, a sample, for free and try to use those to lure customers to their shops. If the people who tried the free stuff liked them, then they would stop by the shop and see if they could get more. Maybe we could cut these sandwiches into small pieces and walk around the island advertising them?”
Croix looked at Polly and his eyes narrowed into croissant-like crescents. He opened and closed his mouth as if there were words on the tip of his tongue but they wouldn’t leave. He frowned and began to speak, albeit hesitantly.
“I… I hate to be the one to say this to you lass, ‘specially since you’ve been nothin’ but a help to me, but I’m thinkin’ you might want to freshen up before you go back out on the streets.”
Polly froze mid bite. Croix was right. The last time she had a proper hot shower was the day before the boat auction and between now and then she had sweat buckets on a forest escapade, gotten soaked in the salty waters after falling victim to a lightning storm and some fish, and had wandered around quite a bit on this island.
In other words she stank. Stank to high heaven and back. Stank badly enough to where she could reverse the effects of an air freshener by simply being within a 20 mile radius of it. Stank so horribly she was honestly in awe and completely mortified that no one had called her out on it until now.
The now woefully self-conscious lass turned to the kiwis who had been accompanying her.
“Why didn’t you guys say anything? What happened to birds having a good sense of smell?” asked Polly with eyes that screamed hurt and betrayed.
None of the birds would meet her eyes.
“In their defense they must have gotten used to it,” offered Fethar in the kindest tone Polly had heard from it yet. “I’d like to suggest olfactory fatigue as the cause, that being the common inability to distinguish a certain smell after being exposed to it for a prolonged period of time. It is but an example of sensory adaptation.”
“Right,” replied Polly who wanted no less than to dig herself a nice deep hole to spend the rest of her living days in. “No need to hold back, how bad is it?”
It appeared as if the three birds had suddenly forgotten Mimglish and there was an issue in the kitchen calling for Croix to attend to.
“I’ll just be heading back to the motel then,” sighed Polly. As she began the lonely trek back, the birds had opted to stick together with Croix in the restaurant, Polly took a whiff of her hair. It wasn’t awful, just pretty bad, so she decided to be bold and smell her shirt. She felt instant regret.
Polly looked down at her shirt, a loose white garment, and was stunned to see it wasn’t completely black with unidentified substances growing out of it; it smelled that bad. She had the sudden thought that maybe, just maybe, she ought to expand her wardrobe. It wasn’t like she lacked the funds for it, as long as items of clothing weren’t priced a castle a piece.
When she re-entered Melonpan, she was relieved to see not a soul besides the sweet lady who hadn’t judged her for a second when she first booked a room. Polly wondered if it was because the lady was simply kind or her sense of smell wasn’t very good. Either way, Polly was just glad she wasn’t getting a weird look as she shuffled to her quarters.
It has been said before, and it will probably be said again, but Polly has never been one to think far ahead into the future. Only after Polly had turned on the shower and was ready to become the cleanest pirate that ever sailed the high seas did she come to the realization that even if she freshened up, her one set of clothes would still be dirty.
And so despite not wanting to re-enter society smelling like a racoon that had just had the time of its life partying in a garbage dump, Polly was left with no choice but to return to The Capital and hunt down a shop that would be willing to sell clothes to a short and greasy grouch who smelled like a troll that had just finished its monthly spa session in a sewer.
While passing by shops, Polly began to think back on everyone she had encountered. It was no wonder the staff member in front of the fancy schmancy restaurant had stared at her and her party with an upturned nose. Why she would’ve done the exact same!
How her stench had not driven out the other customers in 'Not Half Bad Food' was nothing short of a miracle and how the restaurant owner had graciously tolerated her was even more so of one. Still, that didn’t stop Polly from wanting to head over to make a formal apology as soon as she was presentable.
Normally Polly wouldn’t have been one to care for such trivial things, but there was a fine line between being a free spirit and being a nuisance to society. Polly liked to consider herself the former and did everything in her power to avoid being the second.
Her search led her to a hole-in-the-wall sort of shop. The shop’s exterior was pure wall save for its door, and it had no name as far as she could tell --- its only identifying feature being a wooden sign with a shirt crudely painted on it --- which was a stark contrast compared to the other clothing shops she had walked past that had their names written in curling scripts and showed off their clothes in large glass windows. Figuring that there probably weren’t many people in there, Polly ventured in.
Inside, upbeat jazzy music played and the various garments sold were hung on the walls and placed on haphazardly arranged tables. Polly felt like she had walked in before the shop was ready to open. Just as she had hoped, the store was basically empty save for two employees who were chatting behind the cashier desk. They didn’t notice her entry, which was fine by her.
Polly scanned the clothes, which were all in a totally different style from her current outfit. For the longest time she had been wearing a baggy white shirt made of linen that boasted long, billowy sleeves and brown trousers with pockets of varying sizes running up and down the side of each leg.
Surrounding her were foreign clothes that she had never seen before on her home island. One of the tags on an item read 'raincoat' and another read 'wool rollneck sweater'.
Knowing she had no choice if she didn’t want to waste her money on clothes that wouldn’t work for her, Polly allowed her last remaining shred of dignity to wither away and made her way to the two employees.
“Hi,” said Polly, hoping her bright smile would release rays powerful enough to burn away the employees’ sense of smell. “I’m, uh, a traveling seafarer and I was wondering if you guys have any suggestions clothes-wise. I’ve kinda never heard of most of this stuff before.”
One of the two, a toned and tanned blonde lady appeared to take Polly’s words rather personally.
“You’ve neva heard of these? None of ‘em?” she gasped.
“I haven’t,” replied Polly who at this point was just waiting for a shovel to fall from the sky so she could start digging her hole.
“Oh my dear,” gasped the lady. She looked to her partner, an equally as muscular and sun-kissed lady except with chestnut brown hair, with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth. Polly took a glance at the name badges and noted to herself the blonde one’s name was Yellow and the brunette’s name was Brown.
“My dear you’ve come to the right place,” said Yellow.
She grabbed Polly by the arm and began a full tour of the entire shop, starting from the entrance. Yellow took the time to explain the history and use of every single item of clothing offered, and though Polly knew Yellow meant well, the lass was struggling to keep up.
“Slow down,” Brown chided Yellow. “Sorry ‘bout that dear, it’s just that we haven’t had many customers lately, let alone one who’s not from ‘round ‘ere.”
“It’s no problem at all. This info is actually pretty helpful and it’d be quite the spice if we had these kinds of things back on Sea Island 7. They’ve got both form and function.”
Brown’s tense posture loosened at Polly’s words. In all honesty Polly was just glad to be treated regularly, and she had come to the conclusion that perhaps all the residents of Sea-Island 6 were kind and non-judgemental. The Sea Island 7 residents could learn a thing or two from them.
Polly ended up walking out the store with a vibrant orange sailing jacket, a navy blue lightweight raincoat, a few t-shirts, a few pairs of trousers --- some of them waterproof---, and other necessary garments. The ladies had been so thrilled by Polly that they ended up giving her a hefty discount, which is what allowed her to walk away with so many goods in the first place. Polly had insisted she paid full price because though she loved cheap stuff as much as the next cheapskate, she felt bad knowing they didn’t get much business. However, they had simply smiled and insisted she visit again. Of course, Polly assured them she would.
When Polly at last emerged from her steaming shower hot enough to serve as Satan’s sauna, she felt like Venus rising from the sea on a shell in all her magnificent glory. Why she had just about forgotten how good it felt to be grime free, and oh boy had she missed it.