Private Tales A Friend for a Friend

[Tinker Smithe]

A new shell. Too small. Too long. Tossed. Another one. Too big. Too shallow. Tossed. Yet another. Too small. Too short. Too green. Tossed. Another. Tossed. Another. Tossed. Another. Tossed. Another.... Tossed....

So many shells. So many mismatches. So many mistakes. Too few options. Too little safety.

Hide. No noise. Small breaths. Stillness. A puppet. A doll. A toy soldier. Be one. Have to be one. Quiet. Silent. Like Sparks. Like Bubbles.

Tinker had frozen in his actions. It was as if he had turned himself into a statue. An all too human statue at the edge of the tidal pools with a couple of shells in hand. Eyes locked into the silvery mirror of a shaded pool. His own eyes staring back at him. His face facing him.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh had noticed that Tinker had gotten still, that it seemed he wasn’t even breathing. She was certain that if things like blinking or breathing weren’t automatic that Tinker would have died a long time ago from asphyxiation. She went to his side once more and looked down in the water. Perhaps based on a good stroke of luck, she picked out a shell. It was still a conch shell, however she had only grabbed it because it was a pearly gray with a chatoyant sheen to it of pastel pinks, blues and lavenders. However it would be the perfect fit for the hermit crab.

“Tinker, let’s try this one. I’ll help you sneak it back into the academy. He can be your new friend.” Everleigh said. She looked up at the sky, the sun beginning to set. They needed to get back now. If they missed dinner Everleigh would have a punishment to follow through on which she would rather she wouldn’t have to.

When Tinker was ready they would head back to their home at the academy. Everleigh chatting to Tinker the entire way about an idea of a fun game to play and how she would want Tinker to join in. She knew he wouldn’t and while Everleigh hardly ever minded silence, now was a good time to talk.

Inwardly, Everleigh felt rather proud of herself. Mission accomplished. A smug look settled onto her fair features and wouldn’t leave her face until she fell asleep that night.

Tinker Smithe