The Keeper. Part 1. An Invitation. Craig Speakes

The Keeper. Part 1. An Invitation - Craig Speakes


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What kind of lesson?’

      ‘I don’t know, just a lesson… What?’ he meowed, seeing Arthur’s puzzled look. ‘Why should there have to be a reason for wanting to teach pesky birds a lesson?’

      ‘Yeah, but Cat…’

      But before he could finish what he was going to say, the tip of his rod dipped sharply.

      ‘Oh my God. It’s a monster!’ he cried, striking hard and feeling a heavy weight suddenly twisting and pulling on the other end.

      ‘Speaking of fish, it might come as a surprise to you to know that I’m not into fish much, either.’

      ‘What kind of cat are you?’

      ‘The roast chicken kind.’

      Arthur laughed.

      ‘You know that they’re birds too though, right?’

      ‘Not the way I get served them, they’re not.’

      It must have taken a full ten minutes before Arthur was been able to land it. The fish had weaved left and right, breaking the surface, and thrashing about wildly before diving again, attempting to tangle his line in the reeds. Finally managing to haul it onto the jetty, Arthur watched triumphantly as it flopped around on the weathered wooden boards. By far the biggest ever, in his mind he could already picture the expressions on everyone’s faces when he brought it home.

      ‘So, do I take it that you’re planning on keeping it, then?’ asked the cat.

      ‘Too right I am! This one’s for the frying pan. Aunty M will have a fit. She’s always laughing because I never catch anything big. Now let’s see what she’s got to say!’

      ‘Right you are, then.’

      ‘Just look at it! Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to keep it.’

      ‘Oh, no reason, really,’ purred the cat. ‘Only it seems pretty desperate to try to make a deal with you, that’s all.’

      Arthur raised an eyebrow.

      ‘A what?! Oh, come on—you’re having me on?’

      Arthur stared at the fish and then at the cat and back at the fish again.

      ‘Honestly?’

      ‘Yep, it’s true.’

      ‘What sort of deal?’ he asked, bewildered. ‘And why can’t I hear it?’

      ‘No idea, but it keeps going on about some kind of box thing. It’s quite hard to understand him, actually—he has a really strong fishy accent. Apparently, this box fell into the lake last night during the white light, and hundreds of men came looking for it afterwards. If we agree to let him go, he’ll take us to it.’

      ‘The white light? You mean the fish saw it, too?’

      ‘What did I just say?

      ‘Well, yeh, but…’

      ‘So, you have to decide and decide quickly because he says that he can’t breathe.’

      ‘Oh right,’ said Arthur, suddenly feeling terrible. ‘OK, fine—I guess.’ And gently placing the fish back in the water, they watched it floating lifelessly in front of them.

      ‘God, you don’t think that it’s…?’

      ‘No idea.’

      ‘Well—go on, ask him then!’

      ‘What, ask him if he’s dead?’

      ‘Yes!’

      ‘Don’t you think that’s a strange question to ask someone?’

      ‘No!’

      ‘Fine!’

      ‘Also, why can’t I hear you talking to him? Is this why you don’t like fish? Because you can speak with them?’

      ‘Me? No! I don’t like them because they taste like mud. And actually, I’ve never talked to a fish in my life. Well, at least not until this one started just now.’

      ‘Cat, there’s something really strange going on, isn’t there?’

      ‘Really strange!’ agreed the cat. ‘And it says it just needs a moment to get its breath back.’

      Before long, the fish wiggled its fins and began to swim in little circles. Finally turning in their direction, it poked its head out of the water.

      ‘He says he’s ready. And that the box isn’t far. Apparently, we’ll find it under an uneven stone in the middle of some long water grass, which isn’t very deep.’

      ‘What do you reckon? Do you think it’s really telling the truth?’

      ‘No idea, but good luck finding it because I’m not going down after it.’

      Arthur grinned. The cat absolutely hated getting his fur wet, and he remembered how he’d showered him several times with the garden hose when he was younger.

      ‘OK, but you know you’re going to have to come with us all the same.’

      ‘Me? But I just told you: I don’t do swimming!’

      ‘Who said anything about you having to swim? Wait here, I’ve got an idea… And tell the fish to wait, too!’

      Leaping down from the jetty, he ran back along the path to where he recalled having recently seen a large piece of discarded Styrofoam. It was still there, and apart from a few chips in it, it looked ideal for the job. Returning with it, the cat stared at him in horror.

      ‘No, no, that’s no good at all. I’ll get seasick for sure.’

      ‘It’s a lake, Cat, not the sea.’

      ‘Then I’ll get lake-sick. Either way, listen to what I’m trying to tell you.’

      ‘Sure… Now don’t worry, you’ll be just fine.’

      ‘I’m serious!’

      Arthur placed the Styrofoam into the water and got in. Pushing down on it to make sure that it would float OK, he distracted the cat, grabbed him, and placed him on top.

      ‘Argh! Now look what you’ve done—all my paws are wet!’

      ‘Yeh, well, don’t worry about that. Just think what a hero you’re being. Anyway, I’m the one who’s going to be doing all the work. All you have to do is sit there.’

      ‘Said the captain to the rest of the Titanic!’

      With a fin visible above the surface and keeping to the edge of the reed beds, the fish led them out deeper than Arthur had ever been before. The water, which had been warm near the shore, soon began to feel cold, and discovering that the jetty had disappeared from view, he began to panic.

      ‘Cat, how much further?’ he asked nervously.

      ‘Actually, we’re here already.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Apparently. And all you need to do is dive down and look under a stone inside the reeds below us.’

      ‘OK, but that sounds a bit vague. It’s going to show me exactly where, right?’

      ‘I’m thinking not.’

      ‘What! Why?’

      ‘He said that it wasn’t part of the deal.’

      ‘Of course it was part of the deal! Tell him!’

      ‘I would but it’s too late. He’s already gone.’

      ‘Blast!’

      Tempted for a moment to just forget it and swim back to the shore as fast as he could, Arthur gazed across the lake at the people swimming.

      ‘Come on, you can do this,’ he mumbled to himself. ‘It’s not that deep.’

      ‘That’s right, champ—you’ve got this,’ purred the cat. ‘Now, please hurry up before any of those pickle fish decide that I


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