The brass key / A tale in two voices
The anchor
that wouldn’t
stay put.
← Back to the trunkA weightless problem
At Spool Quay, Rufus lowered the ferry’s newest anchor. It was shaped like a cloud because, as he explained, a proper anchor ought to have character. It also happened to be made of cloud.
The anchor bobbed beside the boat. The boat bobbed beside the anchor. Neither seemed prepared to go first.
A bass the size of the quay rose from the water and caught the chain between its lips. The ferry stopped drifting. Rufus congratulated his excellent equipment. Tilly raised one eyebrow.
II / A sound under the water
There was a bell
on the chain.
It had a brass keyhole and a very patient expression, if a bell can have an expression. Whenever the bass moved its head, the bell gave a small, hopeful note.
“We could wind it,” said Rufus. “Or,” said Tilly, “we could find out what it wants.” Choose which voice to follow.
Two ways to begin
Rufus holds the key. Tilly looks at the fish. The river waits, quite happy to leave the question open.
A meeting point,
not a weight.
Whichever question they began with, the crew discovered the same small truth: the bass had not come to hold the ferry still. It had come because it liked the bell.
Rufus wound the mechanism once. The bell rang three soft notes, and the bass answered with three enormous bubbles. Tilly tied the cloud anchor to a floating buoy, where it could do what clouds do best: remain light.
From then on, the bell marked the place where the crew met their river neighbour. They moored the ferry properly at the quay. The cloud anchor kept its excellent character, and nobody expected it to weigh anything.
Take an umbrella to the next tale →