by Jon Lymon
Six
Goldhunter cut through the water at a speed that took Gloria’s breath away. When she looked up, she felt sure the orb was nearer than ever. If they kept going at this pace, they’d be there in no time.
But Goldhunter couldn’t keep going at that pace.
Slowly the strain began to tell and they began to slow down.
Gloria could feel Goldhunter’s heartbeat thumping all over his body. And when a turtle overtook them, lazily swimming while leaning slightly to one side, half-asleep, Gloria knew Goldhunter’s race was run, although the seahorse wouldn’t admit it.
‘Just shifting down a gear or two for a moment,’ he said, breathlessly. ‘We’ll be back up to top speed in no time at all.’
But they didn’t get back up to top speed in any time. At all.
The turtle slowly circled them, gazing at them through half-open eyes, swimming at a strange angle. Gloria soon saw why. One of his fins had a bit missing, like it had been bitten.
‘In a rush?’ the turtle asked Goldhunter, his voice low, slow, and sounding like the mere act of speaking was a huge strain.
‘We’re off to the golden orb,’ Lewis told him, getting a nudge from Gloria because once again he’d told a stranger their plans. ‘To steal some gold,’ he added, not getting the hint.
‘Stealing gold, eh?’ said the turtle, pondering awhile. ‘I’m not one for stealing, I must say.’
‘We’re not stealing anything,’ said Gloria, eager to correct him. ‘I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.’
‘Right,’ said the turtle, eyeing Gloria a little suspiciously for being so loud and excitable.
‘Yes, the orb stole my gold scales and I’m going to get them back.’
In what seemed to take a gargantuan effort, the turtle raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s wrong with the colour you are?’ he asked.
‘It’s not me,’ said Gloria. ‘It’s not my colour. I’m a goldfish. I need to be gold.’
‘Not all goldfish are gold,’ replied the turtle.
Lewis looked at Gloria. ‘That’s exactly what I said. Isn’t that exactly what I…’
Gloria thumped him a little harder with her fin.
‘There’s nothing wrong with the colour you are,’ said the turtle. ‘Why you’d want to go all that way and to all that effort to change I don’t know.’
‘I don’t like it,’ said Gloria. ‘I want to be a gold goldfish.’
‘We can’t always get what we want,’ said the turtle wistfully. ‘There’s things I want that I can’t have. I want to be able to swim straight for a start,’ he said, even more wistfully.
‘What happened with that?’ Lewis blurted out, nodding at the turtle’s damaged fin. ‘Looks nasty.’
‘A little run-in with a shark, that’s all.’
‘And you lived to tell the tale?’ asked Lewis, impressed, thinking this turtle might have a good story, one that was better than a speeding seahorse and way better than a goldfish searching for gold. ‘Did you fight him off?’
‘I don’t much like to talk about it,’ said the turtle. ‘It brings back bad memories.’
‘Tough turtle sees off shark. I can see this one running and running.’
‘Right, enough of this,’ said Gloria, sensing that the orb was getting away from them. ‘We should go,’ she said. ‘Giddy-up, Goldhunter.’
But Goldhunter was fast asleep, slowly drifting onto his side and taking his passengers with him.
‘Looks like his race is run,’ said the turtle, his comment amusing him but no one else.
‘This isn’t funny, it’s serious,’ said Gloria.
‘Why don’t you all hop on board,’ said the turtle. ‘I’ll take you there.’
Gloria looked at him. ‘No offence, but do you feel up to it?’ she asked, looking at his injured fin.
‘To be honest,’ he said. ‘I could do with the company. I’ve not been feeling myself lately. I’m a little down if truth be told.’
‘Thanks for the offer,’ said Gloria. ‘But we are in a bit of a rush and…’
‘I know I’m not the fastest,’ said the turtle. ‘But it looks to me like you don’t have much of a choice.’
Gloria and Lewis looked at him, confused.
‘What about him?’ said the turtle, nodding at the dozing Goldhunter. ‘Are you going to leave him here?’
Gloria looked at the sleeping seahorse. ‘We can’t leave him, can we?’ said Gloria to Lewis. ‘It’s dangerous out here and he’s really helped us. He really deserves to get some of that gold for his cup.’
Lewis thought for a while and finally nodded. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘We can’t leave him.’
Gloria looked at the turtle. ‘We’d like to accept your kind invitation, thank you,’ she said.
Gripping onto Goldhunter, and with Lewis gripping onto her, Gloria nestled under the nape of the turtle’s shell and the turtle swam slightly lop-sidedly toward the glowing light.
Seven
Turtle was slow at most things, including getting round to telling them his name. But when it came to swimming, he was faster than he looked, although his damaged fin meant he was constantly having to adjust his direction.
Goldhunter was a little moody when he woke up and found Turtle was in control.
‘I can get us there much faster,’ he told Gloria.
‘But you’ve been asleep for hours,’ she reminded him.
Goldhunter still felt tired but wasn’t about to admit it. He looked up at the orb. ‘It’s getting away, it’s getting away,’ he called out.
Turtle looked up and sure enough, the orb looked smaller than it had the last time he’d looked up, although he couldn’t remember when that was.
‘I’ll take us the rest of the way,’ Goldhunter said enthusiastically, although when he tried to move, there was no enthusiasm from his aching muscles. He slumped back down and sulked.
Soon, the orb was no more than a tiny speck of shimmering light, its power waning.
‘What’s happening to it?’ Gloria asked.
‘Looks like the orb’s running out of power,’ said Lewis.
‘But what about my gold?’ Gloria despaired.
‘You, you, you,’ said Turtle. ‘Is that all you’re worried about?’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Gloria.
Turtle stopped swimming and let himself gently fall onto a ledge dotted with coral of all colours.
‘I think I need to stop,’ he said, after he’d stopped. ‘We’re not getting anywhere.’
As they sunk, Gloria’s heart sunk with them. ‘I really thought today was going to be the day,’ she said.
‘Maybe tomorrow will be the day,’ said Lewis, keen to keep her spirits up, realising he was quite enjoying being stuck on her.
A quiet evening followed, during which Gloria thought about home and about how much she missed Millie and how much she missed being gold.
Goldhunter dreamt of winning the gold cup for the three-hundredth night in a row. Lewis drafted a copy of Turtle’s story in his mind, convinced it would make a great article, maybe a film eventually.
Turtle couldn’t stop thinking about the one who was making him feel so miserable. The one who he was slowly and surely taking these strangers to meet.
