Pirate's Treasure

Part 1

"Get back here"

I couldn't help the smirk that spread across my face as I heard the wheezing words of the man leading the charge of my capture. I darted through the cobbled streets weaving through the market stools, their colourful canvas tops shading the busy streets filled with customers who struggled to make way for the blundering police. It was impossible to miss their red round faces through the crowd as they struggled to get past the finely packed stalls with their heavy stomachs hindering their movement.

"Come on, slowpokes" I chanted pausing at a brief opening in the crowd, spinning around in the thick navy cloak that covered my body.

I laughed at the irritated grunt from the head policeman bent over with his hand on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath as sweat dripped from his moustache. The lack of crime in boring old' Emerald Island had allowed authorities to become lazy and unfit causing the thrill of the chase to become mundane. However, there was still amusement in listening to their weightless threats and watching them struggle to keep up.

I practically danced through the streets, enjoying the rich smells of spices as the warm air rushed under my cape as I left the police to struggle with oxygen. The beautifully white painted walls that claimed every building, flew past me as I neared my destination.

"Yo, bud" I called grabbing the lowest branch of the large oak tree, I used it to propel myself onto the high walls that surrounded the grand garden. Crouching, I peered through the untamed shrubbery that grew wild and free to see the familiar faces who were playing marbles. Looking up at my arrival they gave me a knowing smile as they pointed toward the dreary run-down orphanage building that's white painted walls had long turned grey.

"Thanks" I grinned, leaping off the wall, over their game before giving a weave as I walked up the broken pathway.

Our island had such riches that is was a rare and sad to see the orphanage in its usual deteriorating state. The lack of finance had caused its lack of upkeep and absents of those running the estate, leaving the kids to do as they pleased.

The cold stone floors echoed my footsteps as I entered the kitchens as I avoided the few pans that sat ready to catch the few showers of rain that settled on our hot island. Food hung from the ceiling, drying in the warm sun that streamed in through the glassless windows.

The clunking of metal on metal drew me to the two-tailed fox that sat cross-legged on the dusty floor surrounded by unrecognizable pieces of wood and metal. The site reminded me of the time I'd first met this young child. It was a yearly creation festival where I found him staring at an unfortunate piece that had been destroyed by its creator in a fit of rage as it refused to function correctly. Unlike the other uninterested passerby who merely glanced at what remained, his large baby blue eyes were glued to the destroyed pieces like they were precious jewels.

One man's trash is another man's treasure.

"Your inventions on the frits again, Tail's?" I asked calling him by his namesake.

He jumped dropping the piece in his hands as his head snapped up to my cloaked figure. A smile stretched across his face as I dropped my hood.

"As you can see," he said waving his hand at the piles of dishes on the kitchen table that had yet to be cleaned "dam it, the power crystals shattered which has caused the springs to have to get jammed and the delicate coils to dialogue...."

The imagination of this boy was amazing but what took your breath away was the motivation he possessed to create these mind-blowing inventions. In his eyes, every problem gave him an opportunity. Including something as mundane as cleaning dishes.