Closer by the Second
“If my eyes don’t deceive me, that’s The Second Island right there,” declared Polly, telescope in hand. A few days of unexpectedly eventless sailing had brought Polly close to her destination, and she was fatally curious to find out more about it.
On the horizon her lil eyes could spy, with the help of a nifty telescope she had dug up when cleaning, a smooth, brown-ish mass, which she assumed was the island. Polly was sure there would be some greenery and more defining features to the lump when she drew closer, because at the moment it was looking a little too similar to an unpleasant smelling log than she’d like. It was early morning now, and Polly had high hopes they’d reach the island before nightfall.
“You have any ideas about what The Second Island is like?” Polly asked Fethar.
“To an extent, yes. My limited knowledge tells me that the people of The Second Island are quite skilled in fortune telling, though their methods are unique. The climate is mild, the national fruit is avocado, the national vegetable is spinach, and the national fish is salmon.”
“Avocados are fruit? I thought they were vegetables? What? I mean, they’re green?”
“I suppose this would not be common knowledge for one such as you who does not dabble in the culinary arts, just as I am sure this would have been obvious to the kiwis. Perhaps, then, it would surprise you to learn that tomatoes, peppers, pumpkins, cucumbers, peas, string beans, eggplants, corn, and zucchini, are fruit as well.”
“Surely you jest? Cucumbers are fruit? The dots… they’re not connecting....”
“Allow me to explain.”
Polly just knew that if Fethar had spectacles, it would be pushing them up right now and making sure the lenses caught the light just right so that they’d be gleaming white. After all, how else would a character show off their big brains?
“There are actually two ways that fruits and vegetables are classified: botanical and culinary. When being categorized botanically, fruits and vegetables are determined by which part of the plant they come from, with fruits developing from a plant’s flower and vegetables being any other part. Culinary wise, the two are separated by their taste. Fruits tend to be either sweet or tart, versus vegetables being more savory.”
“Didn’t need to know that, but I’m glad I do now. Maybe one day something super specific about fruits and vegetables will appear on a multiple choice test that will determine my fate and I’ll be able to answer it without hesitation.”
“Why act the part of a clown if we are not in a circus?”
“Fethar, why are you like this?”
Polly imagined the hat was snickering at the moment, and this guess was backed by the trembling of the accessory in her hair despite the tragically weak breeze. In fact the breeze was so tragically weak that The Birbalinda was barely just scooting forward thanks to the nifty surface currents below her.
“You think I should walk to The Second Island like I did for Sea Island 4?”
“You walked there?”
“Uh, yea? Why else do you think I had to run back to The Birbalinda when getting away from that place?”
“Ah yes. That was so many chapters ago I had all but forgotten it happened.”
“Wait chapters, huh? I-”
“If we wait perhaps the wind will pick up and deliver us to our destination sooner. Though whether or not you will wait for that chance is, of course, up to you.”
“Wait, wait, let’s go back to where you said chapters.”
“I said no such thing.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you did.”
“Surely you must have misheard. I know not of this word ‘chapters’ you speak of. Now, let us turn our attention to the more pressing concern. Will you walk or will you wait?”
Polly stroked her imaginary beard. If the wind didn’t pick up, walking would certainly be the faster way of getting there, but on the other hand, she was in no rush and certainly didn’t need or want any extra exercise. Polly was, after all, one of those folks who didn’t like moving unless it was an absolute must.
“I’ll probs just stick to the ship,” Polly replied. “Gotta stop and smell the roses or whatever, amirite?”
x x x
Five relatively motionless hours later, The Second Island still looked like a sad brown blob to Polly.
“You would have thought the wind would have started up or something by now,” commented Polly who had somehow dug up a beach chair and umbrella, and was reclining on the deck of The Birbalinda with a jug of chilled lemonade in hand and shades on her face. She had also changed into a button-up with a bright floral print and khaki shorts, which she had been persuaded by Yellow to buy despite, at the time, doubting she’d ever wear them. Well, she’d been wrong and Yellow had been right, but that was no biggie because right now she was feeling nothing but good vibes.
“I would have deemed this happening as unfortunate, but given how you chanced upon the goods which you are now evidently delighting in, unfortunate does not seem like the proper choice of words. On a separate note, it is quite mysterious to me why the former owner of the ship left all this behind, especially the lemonade. Only the stars above know how it hasn’t expired yet.”
“Ah, but we don’t know it’s not expired,” said Polly who did not sound half as concerned as she probably should have. “I’m just trusting fate and hoping it isn’t.” With that Polly took a long slurp from a foot and half long curly straw that she had also found when she discovered the cooler with a jug of lemonade hiding in one of The Birbalinda’s corners.
“I guess Captain Trixx collected a bunch of things during his travels, though why he didn’t keep them, I don’t know. Too bad I didn’t find all this when the kiwis were still on board. I bet they would’ve enjoyed the lemonade.”
“You are deluding yourself if you think they would try possibly expired lemonade.”
“It tastes alright to me though. I’d let you try some, but you’re a feather.”
“That’s not obvious at all, is it now?”
“Man, I’d thought we’d be dropping anchor before dark but now I’m wondering if we’ll even be dropping anchor by the end of the week. And I don’t even know what day of the week it is.”
Polly set down her jug of lemonade to do some lunges because her legs were feeling stiff from all the sitting she had been doing. With really nothing better to do, Polly figured that she might as well use the time she had to get as loose as a goose.
“It’s been a while since I did a full stretch routine,” she commented. “I think the last time I went the full nine yards with stretching was uh, um, err, actually I can’t even remember. Let’s see, besides lunges, what other stretches are there?”
“Depends on what you seek to stretch. If you plan to continue stretching your legs, some popular ones include the splits, the pigeon pose, and that particular stretch that involves sitting down and reaching forward.”
“Ew the splits. Yeah nope, not today. The pigeon pose though, hmm, I think I remember that one.”
Polly settled down onto the wooden floor of the deck and arranged herself so her right leg was bent in front of her and her left leg was straight behind her. Unfortunately for her, since the last time she had stretched those muscles was who knows when, she wasn’t able to get her right knee to touch the floor. But she was feeling the stretch for sure.
“Maybe I should do this more often,” wheezed Polly.
After holding the pose for ten seconds, Polly switched legs and was shocked to discover her left leg was even stiffer than her right leg.
“Do I use my left leg more than my right leg?” wondered Polly who for the life of her could not remember a single instance where she was using one leg more than the other. It wasn’t as if she made it a habit to go around hopping on her left leg instead of walking like a normal person.
“I think that’s enough stretching for today,” declared Polly after she had stretched out her left leg for ten seconds.
“Congratulations on a very productive 20 seconds,” remarked Fethar.
A gust of wind strong enough to lift up Polly’s ponytail blew past them.
“Why is it just me or has the wind picked up a bit?”
“I believe it has.”
Polly plopped herself back into her beach chair, picked up her jug of juice, and crossed her legs.
“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” she cheered as The Birbalinda finally began moving toward The Second Island faster than a procrastinator doing work a week before a deadline.