A Sparklie by Clark Mahoney (fiction novels to read TXT) 📕

“Wow! Look at that! Mmmmm” thought the lil’ swimmer as he wiggled his tail this way and that way on a cool evening. He was hungry, and right there, off to the left, was a sparklie-object, beckoning him to come and eat.

He swam quickly, for the sparklie-thing was getting away. It didn’t look like a minnow, or insect, or worm, but a light glistened off of its surface and had his attention. “That looks tasty,” he thought, and so off he dashed, full speed, swim, swim, as fast as he could go.

As he bit down on the sparklie, he felt a sudden pain in his lip. “Ouch! That hurt.” He turned to swim away, but found himself pulled back the other way. Something was pulling him toward The Shore and he didn’t like it, no, not one single bit.

He wiggled and jiggled his tail back and forth, and swam as hard as he could out toward The Deep, but it was no use. The sparklie had magical powers and was forcing him closer and closer to The Shore, to The Shallows, where lil‘ fishies were warned NOT to go.

“What is going on?” he wondered. “Why is this happening to me?”

All at once, he was out of the water, in The Air, just hanging there. Some magic power had transported him through The Water, and into The Air above. Yesterday, and the day before, he’d seen it and felt it when his fin had broken the surface, but he couldn’t breathe up here, and panic began to set in. “I’m going to die,” he thought.

He called for help, “Mom!” but none came.

Strong hands held him firm, kept him from wiggling, and quickly removed the pain from his lip. “Wheh! I feel better,” he thought, as he smacked his lips, open, shut, open, shut, open, shut.

A large creature had him imprisoned in his hands, and fear spread through his body. Was this the end?

He felt himself move from the big creature to…
Little hands gripped his belly, soft, delicate. They held him, and tried to force a little worm into his mouth. Sure, he’d like one on any other day, any other time, but not now. Right now, he wanted freedom, to escape, and to return to The Deep.

He was gasping, choking on the air, and needed water flowing through his gills.

“Let me go!” he pleaded, as he thought of his life, and the future, and growing up.

“Okay,” a little voice said, “just as soon as you eat this lil’ wormie.”

“I can’t breathe,” he choked out. “Water! I need water! Let me go, please.”

He could see her eyes, up close to his, curious, friendly. And, her lips, smiling, breathing the air that he couldn’t. His mother had warned him to be careful of these creatures, for the larger ones were dangerous. Lil’ fishies who came into contact with one never returned to The Deep. But this little one seemed friendly, kind, one who would NOT cause him harm.

“What is your name?” the little girl asked.
He was completely helpless, unable to escape, held tightly by the five fingers of this little girl. And, upside down. That’s right. Upside down. He’d never been in this position before, and it made him dizzy. He tried to focus, but found his mind wandering, drifting, like it does when he rests at night at the bottom of the lake.

“My name is Michaela,” she declared. “I am three years old. What is your name?”

“My name?” he wondered. “What is my name? Hmmm.” Tired from struggling against the sparklie, and disoriented by being upside-down, he had to think. Think. Then he remembered. “I am called Speedy.”

A smile of happiness replaced her look of curiosity. She liked that name. “Speedy? Well, that is a nice name. Are you fast?”

“Am I fast?” he laughed loudly. “I am the FASTEST swimmer in The Lake,” he boasted.

“You are the FASTEST swimmer in the lake?” she asked incredulously.

“Well, maybe not the fastest, but I am fast. I win EVERY race,” he bragged with a smile on his lips.

“You win EVERY race?” she asked, eyes squinting.

“Well, maybe not EVERY race, but I win a lot of them.” he whispered quietly.

“I think that Speedy is a nice name for a lil’ fishie,” she told him.

“Well, I agree, little girl. I like my name. And, I like your name. Michaela. It sounds pretty. Mi-chae-la. Hmmm. It is smooth.”

Michaela smiled again. She liked this lil’ fishie, and she wanted to keep him.

“Could you turn me right-side up?” he begged. “I don’t like being upside-down.”

Michaela turned him the right way and saw what looked like a smile on his lips as he looked around. What he saw was a little girl, with shining eyes, and sparklie teeth, and a glow of happiness that flowed from her face like the morning warmth from the rising sun. Happiness, just like he always saw on his mother’s face.

That is something that he knew a lot about, for he was a happy fish. He swam fast, and that made him happy. He swam slowly, and that made him happy. He swam into The Deep, and that made him happy. He swam in circles, and that made him happy. He liked this feeling, and awoke each morning to the rising sun, and warming water, to the delights that awaited him, to the activities that brought him happiness.

This girl also knew about happiness, for it showed on her face. And, he wanted to find out what it was that she made HER happy.

“Why are you happy, Michaela?” he inquired.

She crinkled her nose, looked to the left, thought for a moment, and then began to tell him of the things that made her happy.

“I like ketchup. Red, red ketchup, on a burger, on a hotdog, on a sloppy-Joe, on fries. Do you like ketchup?” she asked excitedly, throwing the words out rapidly.

“Red? I like worms. Red, juicy worms, wiggling in The Shallows, soft, squishy, sliding down my throat and into my belly,” he answered.

“I like pickles. Green, crunchy, so mmmm in my mouth, in my tummy, bite, bite. Do you like pickles?” she asked.

“Green? I like caterpillars. Hairy, squirming, green caterpillars, swimming on the surface, trying to reach shore, tickling my lips, tickling my throat, down into my belly they go, mmmm” he answered.

“I like Cheetos. Orange, crunchy, tasty, so very messy. Open the bag, grab one, then two, then three. Mmmm. Do you like Cheetos?” she wondered.

“Orange? I like grasshoppers, crickets, flies, beetles. Green, brown, yellow, orange, any color. Stuck in the water, and up I come to find the splash, splash they make, and gulp, down they go, into my belly,” he stated. “But, I don’t like that rubber worm you were trying to feed me a few moments ago.”

“Sorry,” she calmly whispered. “It was all I had. Would you like to come home with me? And I can feed you some pickles, and ketchup, and Cheetos and…”

“No!” he interrupted. “I live in this Lake. It is my home. My brothers live here. My sisters live here. My mom and dad live here. My friends live here. I can’t leave them.”

“You can’t?” she questioned.

“No, I can’t. And, I’m dying,” he warned.

“He is dying?” she thought. Oh, no. What could she do to help? She thought of her mother, sitting a few feet away, on a large boulder, and wondered if she could help. Maybe. Or her brother. Or her uncle. Or…

“I can’t breathe your air,” he choked. “I am slowly suffocating while out of the water. I need to be returned to my home, to The Lake I was born in. Water. Will you please return me to the water so that I might live?”

Michaela felt a teardrop slide down her cheek. Slowly it found its way toward her chin, and then down onto the ground. She’d just found a new friend, and she wanted to keep him, and play with him, and talk to him, but she couldn’t.

“Okay,” she mumbled. “I don’t want you to die. But, will you remember me?”

“Of course,” he laughed, as his body shook from the weakness that was overtaking him. “I will go home, to my family, and tell them of a girl with hair the color of the sun, and eyes the color of the sky, who told stories of juicy ketchup and crunchy pickles. And, they’ll laugh at me, and say it isn’t true. But, I’ll know the truth. I’ll know that a girl named Michaela was my friend for a few moments, as we shared the world she lives in. A world made of dry air, and warm wind, and hard rocks, and buzzing sounds, and sparklie things that hurt the lip, so very different from the cold and wet world of The Lake.”

“Good-bye Speedy!” she called. “I will miss you.”

“And, goodbye to you, Michaela, girl of the blue sky and golden sunlight,” he spoke quietly, as he felt the gentle fingers release him back into The Lake. Gentle. Soft. Careful not to hurt him as he left her world and re-entered his.

She knelt there, on the shore of the lake, and watched him swim away. The sadness that was in her heart just a moment ago left her as she realized that he was back among his own kind, in his world, the world of fish, where he could swim all day, and race his friends, and come in first place, most of the time. And, he would be happy.

She arose from the shore, climbed a nearby rock, and fiddled with her fishing pole, while her brother sat nearby. Her uncle, kneeling off to the side, with camera in hand, captured the moment with a “click.” He smiled at her, and she back at him. They both turned toward the lake one last time before returning to their campsite.

The sun was setting across The Lake, and out in the middle, in the deepest part, Speedy dove as far as he could, turned, and raced toward The Surface with all the power his tail could muster. Faster. Faster. Breaking The Surface at full speed, he pulled himself high up into The Sky, trying to reach that golden ball of warmth and light. Trying. Trying.