“Can you think outside the box?” Leon asked.
Johnny slicked back his hair and pulled the helmet over his head. His youthful appearance dissolved into a hideous costume that let him move freely in the water.
“Come and see the early ocean dwellers as we imagined them to be,” Léon sang out. His bright eyes promised adventure and excitement for the paying members of the audience.
“Mommy, can we go on that ride?”
Before she could respond to her son, Léon broke in, “unfortunately this ride is only for adults. But there is a similar ride. See the lady dressed as a Viking, she’ll show you.”
Johnny popped out from the water, “no takers?”
“Not yet, but be patient. He will come. Maybe today”
“Maybe tomorrow. I know, I know. He’s on the way.”
Johnny dropped into the pool of water. He sank straight to the bottom.
• • •
Léon was hot in his white suit and Panama hat. He would have preferred to be at home with the AC blasting, watching football, and drinking margaritas, but he had agreed to the job when he learned about the finder’s fee.
Léon checked his watch and texted a message.
A minute later, Johnny broke the surface. He stepped out and Léon helped him with his helmet.
“Seven hours in the water?” Johnny asked.
“Four days to go.”
Johnny once again looked like a teenager, and the two of them seemed like father and son.
“Let’s get a bite to eat.”
• • •
At McDonalds, Léon ordered. In the booth they chowed down.
“Are you sure he’s going to show up?”
“He needs his brain,” Léon quietly assured Johnny.
“Why?”
“It’s magic like my Panama hat and special like your helmet.
“But if he doesn’t show?”
“He’ll show, otherwise we keep the brain.”
Johnny agreed, but quietly he began to think outside the box.
• • •
They were staying in a dingy room of a tiny hostel. Johnny slept on the top bunk, while Léon lay on the bottom. He never slept, just worked over the angles.
In the morning, Léon cut up a sausage and some bread for breakfast, and they drank the lukewarm tea in the lobby.
They walked over to the amusement grounds, showed the guards their passes, and walked in.
At their corner, Léon turned on the lights and checked the temperature gauges for the water and the storage unit.
Everything was alright.
They went through their routines. Léon wore his white suit and Panama hat, and Johnny put on his diving helmet.
Two women, perhaps eighteen and somewhat pretty, were the first to come by. They paid, Léon directed them onto a boat, and a short ride later they came upon the monster in the water. Giggles and screams greeted the horrid visage of the monster. A couple of minutes later the damsels had been rescued by Léon wearing his white suit and Panama hat.
They repeated this performance throughout the day.
After the last customer had long departed, Johnny popped up and asked, “Is he coming?”
“Go back to your place, and do not ask me again.”
Johnny sullenly retreated.
• • •
At six o’clock, with the afternoon quite deep, Léon began to close up shop. But a foot blocked the door, and a tall man with a sharp face entered the room. He handed Léon a note: “Do you have the whale?”
Léon answered, “Is your name Ishmael?
Léon locked up the front door and slipped a “we’re closed” sign in the window. He and Ishmael went over to the boat, which they floated on until they encountered the monster. The two men paused, then put on helmets and suits and slid into the water. At the bottom, they traced their way to a door off the main canal.
Johnny opened it, and they entered. He locked the door behind them and released a valve.
The water drained.
Ten minutes later they were sitting a dry room, back in civies.
Léon opened the safe and pulled out a clear case.
“Aah,” Ishmael drew in his breath, “let’s see it.”
Before them appeared a massive pink ball that looked like a brain.
“This is it,” Ishmael noted, “I’ve seen the original. Spitting image.”
“It is the original.”
“Is it real?” Johnny asked.
Both older men stared with contempt at Johnny.
“This is the great Cetacean Monarch,” Ishmael thundered, “his powers might one day rule the world again.”
Léon interrupted, “the payment.”
Ishmael pulled out a large pouch that he had worn inside his clothing.
Léon exchanged the case for the pouch.
“Diamonds and paper for a whale’s brain?” Johnny’s eyes glowed in the dim light.
“Do we need to go back through the water,” Ishmael asked.
“No, this way.”
They went through a door and entered a small building.
“The exit is on the other side.”
Ishmael took his ‘brains’ and left the building. He walked down the road and disappeared.
• • •
Léon and Johnny returned to the hostel.
“We’ll split the money tomorrow. Not here. Not safe.”
They went to bed, and Léon waited for Johnny to fall asleep.
Counting his breathing, Léon got out of bed and walked over to the dresser. He put on his white suit and took out a cut-throat razor from inside his Panama hat. He strolled over to the bed and went to slice Johnny’s throat.
“Die, you greedy boy,” he cursed.
He sliced air, feathers and cloth.
Behind him, Johnny had donned his mask.
Léon turned and Johnny commanded, “Die.”
And Léon fell down dead.
Johnny took off his helmet and grabbed the pouch and ran out of the hostel. He went down an alley and stopped at the waiting car.
Ishmael rolled down the window, “Come to Papa,” and Johnny came over to the car.
“Put on your helmet.”
Johnny followed suit.
Ishmael pulled out the brain spat on it and glared at Johnny.
Johnny prayed and prayed. Perhaps the helmet might have saved him.
If he had only reached it in time.
If he had only thought outside the box.
Born in Canada of Ukrainian descent, Ihor Pidhainy lives and works in the American South. His fiction has appeared in After Dinner Conversations, Bright Flash Literary Review, Vermilion, Union Spring Literary Review, and elsewhere. Follow him pidhainyihor (Instagram) or ipidhainy.bsky.social.
Modern Flash Fiction 