On a Penguin Quest

Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this cycle is a story featuring a penguin. Today’s post comes from Cathy MacKenzie.

 

Along with several short story collections, books of poetry, and two novels, Cathy has published three anthologies under her imprint, MacKenzie Publishing. The latest one is titled NO ONE SHOULD KISS A FROG, available on Amazon and other retailers—300 pages of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry by 75 authors around the world.  She also has a call out for submissions for another anthology to be published early in 2024, to be titled SUCH A LOSS. Contact SuchALossAnthology@gmail.com for submission guidelines.

 

Cathy continues with her Melvin sagas, a character she can’t seem to get rid of...

 

***

On a Penguin Quest

by Cathy MacKenzie

 

“Dad, do we have penguins here?”

“Hmm, not sure, son. Haven't seen any that I remember.” Melvin paused, remembering Kailani, confused why the mention of penguins would bring up her memory. Where had she gone? It had been eons since he’d seen her.

“Dad, you thinking?”

“What? Oh, sorry.” He shook his head, belched, and yelled, “Hey, Google, does Nova Scotia have any penguins?"

“Sorry, I don’t have any information about that.”

Melvin scratched his head. “Hey, Google, really no info?”

“Sorry, I don’t have any information about that.”

William laughed. “Hey, Dad, whatcha gonna do now that Google can’t help you?”

Melvin threw his son one of Marie’s looks. “I just can’t believe Google doesn’t know that,” he mumbled.

“I’m kinda surprised, too, Dad. I thought Google knew everything.”

“Yeah, me, too. I guess there’s not a person on earth who knows everything, robot or human.”

“So what now, Dad?”

“Hmm... What about the encyclopaedias? Why don’t you go grab the ‘P’ volume. ‘P’ for penguins.”

“Daaad! Mom got rid of those years ago. Don’t you remember? You were helping tear out the pages to go into the compost bin. And the covers went into the garbage.”

Melvin scratched his head. “Oh, vaguely...”

“We’re no further ahead, Dad. All I want to know is if Nova Scotia has penguins or not.”

“William, you’re exasperating. I haven’t a clue. Ask your mother since Google apparently doesn’t have a clue either.”

 

***

 

“Mom, does Nova Scotia have penguins?”

Marie turned from the sink. “Penguins?”

“Yeah, penguins.”

“Haven’t seen any around here, not that I’ve ever looked. Have you seen any?”

“No. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“Well, I don’t know. Ask Google.”

“Dad asked Google. She said she didn’t know.”

“Really? Google didn’t know?”

“She didn’t, Mom. Isn’t that weird? I thought Google knew everything.”

“Hmm, I thought she did, too.”

“How do you know Google is a girl, Mom?”

“William! Her voice! Haven’t you heard her? She’s not a man. Same as Alexa. Or Siri. All women. That should be a sign for you men!”

“Yeah, I guess...”

“But back to penguins. Go on the computer. The computer knows more than Google. And we threw away the encyclopaedia’s, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. Dad didn’t, though. I had to remind him.”

“I’m still upset about that. I didn’t want to get rid of them.” Marie flailed her arms toward the den. “All that empty space on the bookshelves now. They looked so good there. It’s good to have books in a home, William.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve said that before. Dad doesn’t agree, though.”

“Your father doesn’t read, that’s his problem.”

“I read, Mom.”

“You do, William. I’m proud of you. Hmm, just thought of something. Isn’t the computer Google? If Google Home doesn’t know, how will the computer Google know?”

“Interesting question, Mom. Let me go check.”

 

***

 

William went to the family computer and typed: Does Nova Scotia have penguins?

Hmm. Two links to explore.

After reading, he scribbled on a scrap of paper and raced out of the room.

“Mom, look what I found.”

His mother, still at the sink, turned to face him. “What?”

“It’s from a site about penguins: Their colonies could be found encircling Newfoundland and its coastal islands, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, on the remote islands of Nova Scotia and, probably, on Machias Seal Island. That’s it, Mom. That’s all I could find. But it says we do have them.”

“Really? Tell your father. With his imagination, I’m sure he’ll spout a far-fetched tale.”

 

***

 

“Dad? Are you sure you’ve never seen any penguins?”

Melvin glanced up from the television, remote clenched in his meaty hand. “I already told you I haven’t.”

“I googled, and we do have them. On some remote islands. Somewhere.”

His father’s eyes widened. “Hmm, on second thought, maybe I have.” He thought of Kailani. If mermaids were real, weren’t penguins? Whether they existed in Nova Scotia or not—even Canada—he didn’t have a clue. But they were sweet little creatures. And every penguin meme on Facebook showed a male and a female, backs to the camera, waddling hand in hand into the sunset. If one didn’t want to believe in romance, so be it. “I think I did see one once. Down on the shore and—”

What the hell...

William had vanished from the room so fast that Melvin wondered if his son had been there at all. Had he imagined his further questioning about penguins?

 

***

 

William had watched his father closely. He could always tell when he was lying. His right eye twitched, and he’d clench his right thumb and index finger.

He hadn’t seen the twitch. Hadn’t seen the pinching of his father’s two fingers. His father must’ve really seen a penguin!

William slipped out the patio door and raced to the lake. It was still warm though summer was technically over. The start of school, to him, marked the end of summer and the start of fall, and school had begun this very day: Thursday, September 7. He was now ten, in Grade Five. First day hadn’t been too bad. Better than he had expected. His parents had been “threatening” to send him to Kings, but if they were serious, they’d have to wait until September 2024 since grades at that supposedly prestigious school (but what did he know?) didn’t start until Grade Six. No need to dwell on that at the moment, he thought; his interest at this moment was penguins.

He’d had a dream the other night. There’d been a mermaid. And a penguin. Which got him to thinking about penguins since he’d never seen any. Mermaids? Well, he’d seen a lot of them. Male and female. He’d never told his parents. They’d never believe him and think him crazier than they already thought. No, his sightings best remain his—and his alone.

The waves had left froth on the sand. He removed his sandals and stepped through it and into the lukewarm water. He dreaded the thought of winter. Next summer, he’d spend more time at the lake. By then, hopefully the loss of his sisters wouldn’t keep him away. The three of them loved frolicking in the lake. Wouldn’t they want him to continue having fun? Wasn’t it time to stop mourning? Not that anyone knew he was mourning. For all anyone knew, he was over their deaths.

But he wasn’t. He missed them terribly. Though he’d been the middle child—didn’t everyone know about “middle child syndrome”?—now that he was the only child, he felt more disconnected. Being on only child wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and he’d give anything to have his siblings back in his life. An impossibility, of course. Genies and three wishes and magic didn’t exist in the real world.

He raised his arm to shade his eyes from the glare of the early evening sun, which was about to begin its descent beyond the horizon.

He blinked. What?

What was that?

He blinked again.

A penguin? No, not one—several! All waddling on the nearest island, where he and his sisters had often kayaked to. One time, when his father had accompanied them, they’d even parked their kayaks on the rocks and gone ashore. No sign of penguins then.

Had to be an illusion. It was the sun going down, throwing shadows.

He blinked. Looked again. Yes! Penguins.

He almost jumped with joy. Wait until his parents heard about this.

“Hey, William...”

He scanned the area. Was he now hearing things, too?

“William, it’s me. Kailani.”

“Kailani? Who are you?”

“I’m a mermaid. You do believe in mermaids, right?”

“I do. Never really believed in penguins, though. And I did make up lies about seeing loads of mermaids, males and females.”

“Well, we do exist. Aren’t I proof?”

His eyes widened. It was true. A mermaid truly was in front of him. Almost human looking, too, except she had a tail instead of legs. Her long blonde hair—conveniently, he thought— covered her chest and reached her waist where the colourful scales formed. He averted his eyes. Afraid what else he might see. “Yeah, you’re proof. I guess...”

“But you can’t tell, okay? Those penguins over there are real, too. But no one will believe you. So you must keep all this a secret. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure. No one would ever believe me anyhow.”

“You’re right. No one would. And they’d think you were just another crazy kid, right?”

“Yep, they would.”

“Toodle-do. I’m off. Have a good school year. Study hard. Make new friends. Enjoy life!”

William watched as the mermaid disappeared into the sunset. Seconds later, when he looked toward the island, the penguins had disappeared, too.

He rubbed his eyes. Had to be his imagination.

He scanned the area again. Nothing.

All an illusion.

Deflated, he sighed and headed for home. He’d never again believe in mermaids. Penguins, perhaps, but more research was in order as to their habitats.

Then—a sudden gust of wind almost knocked him over. By the time he turned around, the wind had died down.

“Ow!” he mumbled, stubbing his toe. He reached down to pick up the rock, to throw it into the lake. Dratted rock.

Wait...what! What was that shimmering in the little bit of remaining sun?

Even though he knew it was going to hurt his bare knees, he knelt on the sand and scooped up several strands of long blonde hair.

 

***

The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/