Long ago, on a secluded and drafty isle, was a young fisherboy walking along the shore. Each day he
arose early and paced about his island barefoot and peckish, looking for something to do (or eat) before
heading out to catch some fish.
The air was icy, that fateful morning, as he wandered about a beach that left not snow, but frigid, damp
sand between those little toes. Full of cold shivers and regret of his decision to leave the cave (had he
known more than just to growl and howl) he would’ve cursed himself using big kid words. Sniffling and
wiping his tiny nose, he elected to examine the crab traps at the back of the island, which had never
caught anything up to this point beyond old discarded glass bottles (always devoid of adult beverage, to
his disappointment).
As the child neared the trees that marked the fishing spot, his good ear caught noise; splashing and
creaking metal, sounds that grew louder with every step closer to the crab pool. Finally, a catch! With his
skin tingling against the cold air and heart racing from excitement, the fisherboy dashed towards the
water, oblivious that daylight had not yet penetrated the canopy to expose a tree toe protruding from
the earth, and he tumbled in.
He tried to gasp for air, but instead sank and gulped several helpings of sandy ocean. His nostrils flared
and lungs burned as the cold rushed against the lining of his chest like blades of ice. His flailing was
beginning to slow, and his vision was dithering as his head dropped below. The last thing he saw before
the darkness set in… what could only be an overgrown lizard, whose ensnared head neared our
fisherboy.
—
Polaris hoisted the limp and unusually puny human out of the water, set him on the grass, and returned
to clawing at the crab trap that clung to her head (unsuccessfully). In an attempt to fling the trap off her
horns, she swiftly whipped her neck around, back and forth, only to knock herself off balance (again) and
stumble into the water (again), dazed and glad no one was watching.
As frustrating as this predicament was, she was more annoyed that the trap was empty. Decent
fisherman would've easily had a couple dozen crabs for her to take (though she was a gracious thief and
made it a point never to steal more than five), alas this was the seventh trap she found on this island
that was full not of crabs, but human junk and human trash. It was hard work to find where humans hid
their food, and the fact that she had been spending the good hours of her last sunrise foraging for
nothing wa-
Polaris suddenly remembered the small human, from whom she heard nothing. Her head immediately
swiveled towards the child, the violent jerk overcoming the hold of the crab trap, though she didn’t pay
any mind to that. She slithered out of the water and neared the fisherboy, intently searching for signs of
life.
“He’s not breathing”, Polaris muttered to herself, now pacing around the boy in panic. She could hear his
heartbeat, though the sound was as frequent and soft as a dying drizzle. Collecting herself, she raised her
claws and after taking a moment to admire how well she maintained herself, selected the dullest one
and slowly pressed the flat end on the child’s chest (being careful to not crush that fragile, human rib
cage).
Suddenly a spurt of water shot out from the fisherboy’s mouth, prompting Polaris to lift her claw off the
child’s chest to allow a session of sharp and hearty coughing. After eliminating most of the salty sea from
his throat, the child finally looked up toward his rescuer.
Never before had the boy seen anything like Polaris. She resembled the iguanas that lived on the rocks at
the front of the island, though her neck was way longer and her silver scales much smoother. She wore a
crown like a water buffalo’s, though it curved more to the back of her head and was polished. Her wings
were like those of bats that visit to sleep in caves during the cold season, and they too were covered in
metallic plates, impervious to any flint spear. But most important were those eyes–deep purple and pink
that rivaled even the ambiance of the night sky–that had no iris yet made clear where her gaze was
directed. And that gaze was directed to him, and his to her, both unmoving, studying each other.
“How strange”, she whispered to no one in particular. Upon seeing Polaris, any larger fleshbag would
have produced unintelligible noises and scurried away to save themself; yet this child, whose soul did not
give off the scent of fear but the aroma of innocent admiration and curiosity, stood before this grand
creature and met her powerful gaze. Perhaps it was dumbfoundment at the ridiculousness of the
situation, or genuine amazement at supposed bravery, but she began to take a liking to the fisherboy.
“AH-CHOO!!!” The silence was abruptly broken, and they returned to the present. The fisherboy, who
had been dripping wet this whole time, began to shiver in the brisk morning air and sniffled a little.
Polaris gave a small smile (it was less of a smile of the mouth but one of the eyes), before blowing a
gentle stream of warmth to dry the child. His long hair was stuck upright, causing her to snicker before
collecting herself.
“I suppose an introduction is in order. I am Polaris.” She patiently awaited a response to her salutation
but was only met with silence. “What is your name, Child?”, she asked the boy, to which he cocked his
head sideways and mimicked the movements of her mouth without making a noise. Polaris frowned and
paused before asking again, only to meet more lipsyncing. Did he not understand her? Could he even
speak? She thought a bit more and began to wonder what such a small youngling was doing on this
island all alone.
Curious, the giant creature pierced the ground with her claw, drew three stick figures, withdrew herself
from the earth, and gently poked the child's chest. The fisherboy looked down at the illustration, silent
and seeming lost in thought. Did he not understand this either? A few moments later, he knelt down and
wiped away two of the figures, leaving the smallest alone. Though the mute boy did not raise his head,
the quiver of his hands betrayed him and spoke the words he couldn't.
–
In the afternoon, the pair left the forest and had brunch at the fisherboy’s cave, which sat atop the
island’s largest mountain with a great view of the sea. They ate piles of crispy, smoked salmon, followed
by a dessert of ripe mangoes picked from the boy’s favorite tree, and concluded the meal with a grand
belching competition.
The sensation of eating with someone else was peculiar. The fisherboy ate this meal every day, but this
time it was almost as if the fish was crunchier, the fruit was sweeter, the shade of the cave felt cooler,
the sound of the crashing waves more soothing, and the ritual of after-meal burping was more fun than
ever. His loneliness, although only for a little bit, was replaced with an extraordinary warmth that was
long forgotten and cannot be lost again.
After that, the silvery giant and small child played along the shore until sunset. They raced one another
across the white beachside, flinging clumps of sand behind their feet as they zoomed from end to end.
They played a game of “avoid the tide”, of which Polaris had no hopes of winning due to her long tail
dragging so far behind her. As the sky darkened, they completed a vast sand kingdom complete with
small twig humans with acorns for heads and shell dragons with old leaves for wings, only for it to be
swept away by the tide. And that was okay.
The young fisherboy, exhausted, collapsed into a deep slumber once the moon appeared. Polaris
chuckled to herself before smiling sadly at the small child that she had grown so fond of. Tonight she had
to return home to her place in the stars, but she couldn’t just leave him here, alone again.
And so she uprooted his favorite mango tree, clutched it tightly, gently placed the small, snoring
fisherboy onto her back, spread her plated silver wings, and together they left the drafty, secluded,
crabless isle behind.
–
The fisherboy, awoke at midnight, confused to find himself in a different cave. The walls were so flat, and
his mat was softer. He had no campfire and the ground was something clean and soft, unlike his dirty
stone floor. There was a hole in his wall, where he could see the world outside his strange cave. He saw
rows upon rows of caves like his, and torches on poles that lit up the caves. And right outside his new
cave, he saw… his mango tree?
He dashed outside, panting, catching Polaris just as she was about to depart. The magnificent creature
turned around and gave him one last smile, before setting off into the night sky. Her silver scales shone
dimmer and dimmer until she too was a star in the heavens.
– The End –
