Dazed after the collision, Marvin was briefly overwhelmed as his body tried to mask itself against the changing environment: the cloud of sand they kicked up in the water, the slowly resolving, colorful protrusions of the reef; then, a wood texture…and a long collection of skinny tentacles brushing the sandy bottom. “Flor do Mar”, Marvin said aloud, reflexively reading the shining metal nameplate his head had squished against.
Suddenly he snapped back to reality, noted Susie’s stunned body beneath him, and began resuscitative measures. After a few, awkward, beak-to-mouth breaths and a good pummeling with multiple tentacles, Susie expelled a giant wad of sand out of her butt and gracefully unrolled her arms, regaining her composure.
“Looks like we banged into a shipwreck,” Marvin explained to Susie. “Calamity! This obstruction is not on our charts! If we had just been a few feet away, we would have missed it. Nothing irritates me more than poor documentation!”
The sand cleared enough for them to witness the sailfish wriggle his nose out of the plank he had skewered. “I’ll be in parking!” he said, and shot off.
Suddenly Susie observed the mass of tentacles trailing on the ocean floor and shrieked.
“Excuse me,” a voice boomed from overhead, and both looked up. Above them floated a pair of squinty eyes and a magnificent moustache, all attached to a translucent, half-deflated, Portuguese Man-O-War.
“Hello, Sir and Madame. I am Chief Alvero Almada. You can call me, “Chief Al.” I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Sure. Always glad to accommodate a fellow inquisitive mind,” said Marvin, ignoring Susie rolling her eyes.
“Well, then. Where were you at midnight, the last full moon, just one day ago?”
“Traveling.”
“Traveling? What’s that?”
“We were moving from one place to another, for pleasure.”
“Pleasure? Pleasure? Who has that around here? This is very unusual! Foraging: yes! Fleeing predators: yes! Returning to spawn: yes! But for pleasure? Hmmmmm… very suspicious!” Chief Al rustled his tentacles and chose his next question carefully. “Where are you from?”
“Waterfield.”
“Oh come on, which one? There are so many Waterfields!”
“The one by the USS Cyclops.”
“Oh, yes, heard about that one. ‘Supplying all of the ocean’s manganese needs.’ You guys are pretty far from home, then!” Chief Al studied Marvin closely. This made Marvin a bit uncomfortable. Only after some time did Marvin realize why; the Chief refused to look him in the eyes.
“Well, folks, you are currently in the sea-town of Portitingi, in the Indian Ocean, just off of the coast of Sumatra! Seems an odd destination for Bermuda Triangleans such as yourselves.”
“Yes, our sailfish was a bit overpowered,” Marvin said, finally realizing that Chief Al was transfixed by his jaunty Panama hat. Marvin decided that he liked the Chief; he had good taste in hats.
“And you,” Chief Al turned to Susie, “What’s your story? You have six arms. Aren’t you supposed to have just five?”
“Nah, I’m Jewish,” Susie pointed out. “And I’m traveling, too.”
“Two strangers are going to need a better alibi than that. Any witnesses to your… ‘traveling?’”
“Well, we did pass a few other creatures during the storm. One was a seahorse with a suitcase. He was grumbling about something,” Marvin recalled.
“Oh, that must have been Jerry! You must have passed him on the way out! Poor Jerry! We used to be neighbors. After he released all of his young from his pouch, his mate told him that she preferred another seahorse for the next gestation period and kicked him out of the reef! This is unheard of among seahorses. She told him it was because he could never stop talking, and apparently he passed that trait onto his young. All 500 of them. It was a very noisy birth. It confused a nearby pod of humpbacks. Anyway, Jerry was going to spend some time with his sister up north. She’s apparently deaf.” the Chief, who had been gazing at the road out of town, turned his attention back to Marvin and gave a start.
During the course of the story, Marvin’s restraint gave out and he let his face finally have its way. He had simulated the Chief’s magnificent moustache.
“Why, that’s remarkable! What a glorious skill! “said the Chief. “It took me years to arrange my polyps to make this thing, and you mimicked it in five minutes! It looks so good with that hat, too! Hey… a guy like you could be useful around here. Do you have any plans for the next few weeks?”
“Nope! We were going to follow the whim of the sea!” Marvin said, shaking his new mustache excitedly.
“Well, then,” Chief Al beamed, “You can help me. It turns out that you have stumbled upon one of the greatest crime scenes in the ocean!”
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