The Splash Game Switcheroo — Every afternoon after the tide gong clanged from the coral post, Zadie stacked shells into wobbly towers and smacked the water with her tail, trying to invent a game that sounded funnier than sea gull hiccups. Read the full story →
Every afternoon after the tide gong clanged from the coral post, Zadie stacked shells into wobbly towers and smacked the water with her tail, trying to invent a game that sounded funnier than sea gull hiccups. She wanted a game made by her own fins, not copied from the crab races or the boring bubble-count. One day she shouted, “Rainbow Splash Switch!” and flipped through a sunbeam so fast that seven drops flashed over the lagoon.
Because of that, every gull began guessing colors and diving after the wrong drops, yelling like squeaky hinges. Because of that, the waves got competitive, curling themselves into giant foam fists that knocked Zadie’s shell towers flat and sent a coconut bobbing past like a referee’s head. The air smelled of salt and warm palm bark, and Zadie’s nose stung with spray. Her new game was excellent. It was also trying to eat the beach.
At last Zadie changed the rules with the thing she had made: one leap for color, two tail taps for calm water, and a silly whistle when the rainbow had to wait its turn. The waves curled, listened, and rolled back laughing in little shush-shush lines. Zadie rebuilt one crooked shell tower and bowed to the gulls. Next time you spot her above the foamy water, see if you can guess which color she called before the tide gong clanged.
