Shaking its head, the striped fish swam over to the box. The sun danced over the fish’s stripes, entrancing Adam. The fish said, “Well now, that’s certainly an interesting tale. How do you know of the flood?”
Adam stared. “I told you. I opened this box and the wave came. I know about the flood because I was there.”
“Hmm…” was all the fish said before moving to inspect the box. The fish put his lips to the box and said, “It’s waterwood. Who gave you this?”
“I don’t know. It was with my other birthday presents.”
“You don’t know but you opened it anyway? Silly human. Silly person. My school has a saying, ‘An unmarked gift may never stop giving.’”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“You weren’t,” the fish said flatly.
“What’s your name?” the striped fish asked, one eye on Adam.
“Adam Might. What’s yours?”
“Spot,” the fish said with a touch of dignity.
“Spot? Why?” Adam sputtered and laughed.
“What’s so funny? Why are you called Adam?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that – it’s funny that your name is Spot but you’ve got stripes all over you.”
“What? Where? GET THEM OFF OF ME!” Spot screamed at Adam. He jumped out of the water, did a spastic twist as though he were trying to shake something off, then came back down with a splash. He resurfaced, still upset and said to Adam, “Are they gone? Please tell me they’re gone!”
Adam shook his head.
“AAAAAHHHH!” Spot yelled and jumped out of the water, coming down hard on one side. He jumped again, this time coming down on the other side with a painful SMACK!
They’ve got to be gone now!” Spot declared.
Adam shook his head again. Spot sped over to Adam. “Please help! Rub them off! Rub off those evil stripes!”