THE SQUELCHING sound of a tall figure approached and Crackey reappeared.
'Thank you,' Vetta said to the man. 'Your kindness has brought joy.'
'Urk,' he replied with a twitch. The coin in his pocket, attracting the charged venom from the jellyfish's tentacled stings, still felt hot, literally as if it were burning a hole in his pocket.
'Instead of just standing there like a lightning-struck tree,' Glasseye said, 'you could at least return the hat to the girl.'
'Ee-ukk!' was the response and the man spread his hands wide. They were empty.
Vetta blinked as she processed this. Then she wandered down the beach to where the jellyfish had been returned to its life-saving medium, perhaps with half a hope of finding her Plazenby hat tumbling about in the surf. What she saw made her forget the matter.
In the waves were more than one light. Greenish balls of fire of varying intensity danced beneath the waves, a cluster of luminous life. It was as if the rescued jellyfish had been welcomed back by its friends and family. They lingered a little in the shallow water, clustered round the brightest which bobbed near to where Vetta stood, and then they all seemed to drift out to sea and fade in the dark blue depths.
'Goodbye,' Vetta said softly and made a brief little wave of her own. 'Swim safe and well.'
Then she trotted back up the beach to where matters had progressed.
'Thank you for what you did,' she said again to Crackey, who was leaning against a rock.
'No - ick - proberk, miss,' he said, all of a tremble.
Then there was a flare of yellow light and a loud crackling sound. Someone had gathered drift wood and built a bonfire, a favourite occupation of beachcombers. Such activity meant light and warmth through the night and added a festive air to proceedings. Vetta noted this.
'What are you celebrating?' she asked Glasseye, who had resumed her seat. To Vetta it seemed the mood of the figures around her had lightened and everyone seemed less at ease.
'Another night in paradise vouchsafed us by the powers that be,' came a croaked response.
'I hope there will be lots of them,' Vetta said earnestly. 'It seems a nice thing to look forward to when the sun goes down. Did you see that sunset? It was glorious, so full of colour and moving shadows.'
'Shame really,' Glasseye sighed.
'Oh, why?'
'Ain't many left I'm supposing.'
'That is why it is important to enjoy them when they are happening.' As she spoke Vetta watched the illuminated figures dance in a kind of slow and confused way around the fire. They were a curious looking bunch of straggling knots of rags and limbs and sticks gripped in gnarled fists that aided in the dance.
'Papa says each second is precious for there are only so many of them to go round,' she added, squinting into the firelight and feeling the warmth.
'Well that's just so true,' Glasseye said, her glassy orb afire with reflected flames. 'Guess we should be grateful for the ones we've had and be appreciative of the ones to come, be they few or many.'
'Yes,' Vetta said, hugging herself in the half-light with pleasure at the thought. Then she stood. 'I must return as it is getting late. I do not expect anyone will miss me, but it is best not to cause worry.' Then she sat down again. 'Oh!' Her hand went to her empty pocket, remembering.
Crackey approached, stiff-limbed, and held out his hand. In automatic response Vetta held out hers and felt a very warm coin land in her palm.
'Don't - eek - need - really,' he spluttered. 'Glad to - ukk - hold a bit, is - arrrgh - all.'
'What he's trying to say miss,' Glasseye translated, 'is we don't need things like this really. We have all we need, truly. It's just that it was nice to possess such a thing for a while, considering where it came from, who it came from.'
Vetta looked at the shambling tower of shadows as it twitched now and again in agreement.
'Don't worry miss, he'll be all right eventually. He and that there stinger what you released are old friends.'
'I am Vetta Mindal, from the Blessed Hub of Poldorama,' the girl suddenly felt obliged to say just then, putting the still warm coin in her pocket.
'Pleased to meet you Vetta Mindal of that place you mentioned,' Glasseye replied with a bow of sorts from where she sat. 'You go off now and learn things in the place up there. And while you're at it, teach some of 'em better manners.'
Vetta had nothing to reply to this and so she bid farewell to the dancing combers, who were indeed determined to enjoy every second they had left in them. Thus she sought out a tram to take her back up to the mountain.
'Fare miss,' the driver said in a tired kind of voice. Vetta touched her bright hair, remembering she did not have her hat. Then she remembered the coin and sighed.
What comes around goes around.