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The Tropical Soda Islands were infamous for its endless sunny days and the friendliness of its residents. Vibrant fizzy waters lapped up against the sand, fresh fruit smoothies being handed out, laughter echoing around a game of cornhole.
Unfortunately for Mango Cookie, his day had been the complete opposite of what the magazines advertised on the colorful papers and flashy posters that were hung up in the kingdom when the summer season began.
Sweat beaded down Mango’s forehead before being wiped away quickly. His arms felt like they were on fire after rowing his paddle for so long; like his nerves were being pumped with chili pepper seasoning. The tourist tiredly sighs, stopping the motion temporarily.
“Here’s the Coconutians Village! Rumors from the residents say that a Mangorca likes to roam around this place during the summer due to the refreshing coconut juices!” Mango announces to the visitors, plastering a wide grin across his face.
A snooty cookie perks up. “The village looks.. bland. Where are the cool decorations and plants? Or the durianeers?!” They point at the Mango, frowning. “I paid to see lavishing vegetation and action, not boring villages!”
Mango’s smile falters for a moment, awkwardly laughing. “Aha, don’t judge a book by its cover! Though the village may not look beautiful in your eyes, the extraordinary drinks and foods they offer will simply blow you away!”
“Not even to mention their hospitality!” He quickly adds on, hoping to see the visitor even slightly more satisfied. The cookie rolls their eyes, scoffing.
“I want adventure, not cheap watery drinks and burnt pineapple.” They cross their arms, facing Mango again. “What part of that do you not understand?!”
“You haven’t even tried one of their drinks yet!” Mango protests, his patience starting to wear thin. Why must this cookie, no, particular group of visitors be so difficult? First it was the boat rocking too much, then they scared the fruit fish away, then getting upset when they didn’t see the butter tigers despite Mango telling them beforehand that they were nocturnal!
The visitor doesn’t answer, instead turning away quickly to the other side of the canoe, pressing their hands on the nose of the boat. “I don’t want Coconutians or smoothies, I want- No, NEED adventure. Why can’t you detour us through the more harsh waters or something?!”
Panic bubbles in Mango’s chest, the tourist lunging forward and grabbing the visitor away from the nose of his canoe. Mango stumbles backwards, accidentally crashing into two more visiting tourists. The boat rocks roughly, sending a younger cookie’s toy flying into the sea waters.
“You’re gonna make my canoe tip over!-” Mango yells while still dragging the snooty visitor away from the nose of the canoe. A series of curses and yelling starts, various guests pushing and shoving each other in a fight to gain balance on the already-rocking boat. The tourist guide reaches for his paddle, desperate to have some control over his rowdy group of visitants.
Suddenly, the canoe flips over, sending all them into the fizzy waters. Mango’s head is starting to hurt from all of the sudden commotion. He flails upwards towards the surface, gasping for air. Witches, how would he talk his way out of this one? Mango reaches for the nearest guest he can find, mustering up all of his energy to keep them afloat. The tourist guide fumbles onto the canoe, setting it upright.
Mango gasps for another breath of air, a mix of sweat and sea water beading down onto the canoe. Where’s my paddle? He briefly wonders, the world starting to become a blur. No Mango! You have to save these visitors, no matter how much of a nuisance they may be! He urges himself, plunging into the fizzy soda water again.
Mango assists as many guests to the surface as he can, most of them spitting out curses and trying to reach for the canoe again. The tourist guide finally gets to pulling all of the visitors back onto the boat, collapsing on a bench and a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
“What was that?!” The snooty visitor pipes up after squeezing all of the water from their hair. “If you would’ve let me just SIT there, we wouldn’t all be drenching and smelling of salt!”
“I apologize, however if I let you sit there the canoe would’ve tipped over anyway-”
“Shut it! I don’t want to hear any of it! Now my son has lost his toy and you’ve ruined my vacation!”
“Be quiet, Honeycomb! Don’t you see that my dress is ruined?! I had an important meeting after this trip! I’ll never get rid of the sea salt stench!” Great, now a second cookie..
“No, you shut it! This guide has managed to ruin both me and my son’s vacation!”
Mango holds his head in his hands as the bickering starts up again, the feeling of crumpling up into a ball starting to appear in his mind. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out, Mango! The breathing techniques only make him more annoyed. His fingers dig deeper into his tan skin, before Mango sighs and lifts his head up.
Just get them back to shore. He thinks, an unusual frown etched across his face.
“I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done.” Honeycomb sneers. Their hair is sopping wet, dripping onto the sand. “You’ve ruined me and my son’s vacation.” And with that, Honeycomb turns on their heel and walks away angrily; a smaller whining cookie being dragged along.
“My dress is ruined because of you!” Another Cookie hisses, snatching her purse from the tourist guide. “No wonder no one ever comes back to visit!”
“We didn’t even get the full tour, I want a refund!”
“Don’t smile at me! I don’t need your pity!”
Mango still waves goodbye, trying to hold his smile. Once the guests are long past the horizon, he sighs heavily and slumps down next to a palm tree. The tourist guide relaxes, lazily taking off his hat. Curly brown hair falls down next to his ears, water dripping onto the sand below.
Mango presses his lips into a thin line, a pang of guilt washing over his body. Was it really his fault? Maybe he could’ve dodged the other visitors and not made his precious mango canoe tip over. The thoughts swirl around his mind for a while, like watermelon fish swimming around coral reefs. It only worsens the tourist guide’s raging headache.
His thoughts are interrupted by a growl from his stomach. Right. Have I even eaten anything today? Mango wonders. He had started growing a habit of not eating to prioritize his guests. Mango knew well that it wasn’t healthy, but he hadn’t gotten the time to fully handle it. Maybe some other time he would get to it.
The thought of moving rather sickens Mango, so he instead calls for his toucan. He waits for his familiar rustle of tropical leaves and squawk from his feathered companion.
Minutes pass, and his toucan doesn’t show. Mango groans. Even the bird that willingly listened to him ramble seemed to not want to face him today. He rubs his eyes, the sun starting to get to him. Why couldn’t one thing go right today?
The tourist guide watches the sparkly waves idly, too tired to get up immediately. The sound of crashing waves makes his lips shape into a scowl, the usually soothing noise he sleeps to start to get on his nerves.
“I’m sure I’ll find some other fresh fruits to eat.” Mango muttered, shuffling to his feet finally after what felt like forever. He trudges towards the dense jungle after putting on his hat again, making sure not to venture too far in. His clothes stick to his skin as Mango snatches some purple mangosteen.
The mangosteen juice drips from the tourist’s mouth as he munches eagerly. Usually, Mango would savor the flavor and smile; however the fruit tastes more sour to Mango this time around.
Did I not pick the right one? He thinks, throwing the finished mangosteen away. He weaves through the palm tree stalks, unsatisfied with his meal.
Mango looks up wistfully at the trees above. Glistening fruits shone in the sunlight, as radiant as ever. They looked ripe and plump, just waiting for someone to make it into a delicious fruit smoothie or sink their teeth into. Mango’s stomach grumbles again, and his mind starts to wander again.
I can’t reach them without my toucan.. He thinks, disappointed. Maybe I can find them myself! He declares in his mind, a small smirk appearing on his face. Mango hurries off, sandals pitter-pattering against the jungle floor then yellow sand. The tourist guide almost bumps into several villagers carrying baskets of fruits or trying to weave new tapestries.
“Watch it, Mango!” A gruffier villager calls while hanging up a tapestry for a new shop. It had a triangular pattern with shades of shiny blues, rich purples, and glamorous pinks sprawled across it. Mango guessed it was for the annual Golden Festival they had every year.
“Sorry!” He sheepishly calls, before bursting into his own house. He pushes away the long strands of grass that serves as the “door”, quickly weaving his way towards his room. Mango’s room is a bit on the messier side, carefully woven blankets laid haphazardly on his soft bed and various tank tops are strewn on his chair; piling up.
On his nightstand, a photo of Mango and his mother, Guyabano Cookie. They’re both smiling happily, Mango wearing his mother’s sunhat that’s far too big for him. He wonders briefly if he could fit it now that he's fifteen. Bracelets and dusty trinkets laid next to the frame, most being gifts from friends and family or stuff he traded when he visited other islands.
Mango opens the nightstand drawer roughly, sorting through the chaos of junk. He squints, trying to find the familiar pair of binoculars. He dismisses the possibility that his binoculars could be missing. He swore that he put them here yesterday. Maybe this is the wrong drawer.
He opens the second drawer, to find more rusted trinkets and polaroids; but no binoculars. Mango presses his lips into a thin line, before an idea comes to mind. Perhaps he left them in his canoe?
The tourist guide rushes outside, and all the way to the shore. The soda waves feel cool on his feet as he bends over his boat. No binoculars. A heavy, forlorn sigh escapes his lips. Guess the world was really against him today, huh? First it was the customers, then a pitiful meal, and now he can’t find his binoculars to find his toucan to get lunch-
Mango places a hand on his neck, before wincing in pain. “Ow..” He utters, before brushing a finger against his neck again. This situation was all too familiar to him, Mango hoped that it wasn’t what he thought it was. He touches it again.
“Great.” He grits out, balling up his hands into fists. “I have a sunburn.”
Mango holds his head in his hands, before groaning loudly for what felt like the fourth time today. He quickly retracts at the pain jolting from his neck. “Right, right!” He mumbles. “Can’t bend my neck..”
Back and forth, back and forth.. Mango thinks, rubbing his arm. Do we even have any Aloe Vera left? Or did we use it on all of the visitors? More annoyance bubbles up in his chest at the thought of the guests.
The tourist guide slinks back over to his village, no longer in a rush. He pushes past the curtain, walking lamely into the kitchen. Mango quickly finds a small jar of Aloe Vera on it with a label that has the expiration date on it. He takes a good dollop out of it, and gently applies it on his neck. He has to stop himself from hissing in pain as the gel touches his burn. He squirms on the chair, before he’s ripped away from his complaining thoughts.
“Hey, Mango, are you there?” A male voice asks, his shadow on the wooden plank floor. Mango recognizes it as Ube Cookie, his employer.
“Uhm, yeah!” The tourist guide quickly repositions himself, scolding himself silently for moving so much. Ube steps in hesitantly, glancing around briefly. He holds a piece of paper that's fraying, it seemed like someone had ripped it from a bigger sheet.
“Right, I uh.. want to talk to you.” The older man takes a seat at the table, leaning against the wooden table. “I got a hefty amount of complaints from your group of visitors, which is pretty odd considering how much our customers usually adore you.”
Mango rolls his eyes, shoulders dropping. Suddenly, the aloe vera doesn’t seem so bad. Now he was gonna have to explain the whole situation, then pay for the refunds out of his own pocket, all while having a sunburn.
Fun..
Mango’s lips press into a thin line. “I can explain, I promise-” Ube shakes their head. “I already know the story from one of our customers; I’m here to discuss your actions-”
“Ube! C’mon, you know the customers don’t always have it clear 100 percent of the time!-”
“Mango.”
“Sorry, sorry..” He mutters, no real guilt behind it. Mango’s brows draw together slowly, getting more annoyed by the second. Why couldn’t Ube leave him alone? Couldn’t he see that Mango already had enough to deal with? He just wanted to be left alone, was that too much to ask for, especially after such a chaotic day?!
“I wanted to start off with your mango canoe tipping over, apparently the patron named Honeycomb said that you forcefully dragged them from where they were sitting?”
Mango shakes his head. “That’s not what happened. Honeycomb was pressing their hands on the nose of my canoe, and it was gonna tip over. “
Ube nods, before piping up again. “Okay, but couldn’t you have gone about it in a.. Less rough way? I’m sure Honeycomb didn’t need to be dragged.”
A sharp jolt of pain ached in Mango’s brain. “Well Honeycomb wouldn’t listen either way,” He replied, his words dripping with anger. Maybe it would finally get through Ube’s thick skull that Mango wasn’t in the mood for conversations. “And I also didn’t drag him.”
Ube raised a brow, frowning. “Honeycomb is a fully grown adult, any sensible grown-up would listen to the guide.”
“Well they didn’t. Why would I make my canoe flip over on purpose?”
Ube stayed silent, pressing his lips into a thin line. Mango got a small thrill of seeing Ube so dissatisfied, before another sting of pain shot from his sunburn; quickly ending his temporary high.
“..Right. Mango, I understand that you’re upset, but it doesn’t justify manhandling a visitor-”
Now it was Mango’s turn to be quiet. He looks at his black sandals, noticing a few grains of sand still on his skin. His mind buzzed with thoughts of anger, guilt, and tiredness.
“Well, I had to. The canoe would’ve flipped over if I let them stay there.” The tourist guide answered after a short while. Ube nodded again.
Aren’t you listening?! Mango thinks, lips shaping into a scowl. I’ve repeated myself like four times now!
“Moving on, the customers complained about the trip being boring?” A raspy chuckle erupted from Ube. It makes Mango bristle. “I’m surprised, considering that most of the time you’re quite the chatterbox about your tales.”
Mango’s brows furrow. “Chatterbox, right..” He mutters quietly, before looking up. “I tried telling them my tales, but they all brushed it off and complained about the trip not being interesting enough.” He shrugged.
“Another customer complained that you handled her very roughly when helping her out of the water?”
“I didn’t mean to, okay?!” Mango snaps, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I’m not trying to ruin the experience!”
Ube’s brows furrow, his frown getting more apparent. “You know how important attraction is to the Isles, and the Great Dragon. Tourists provide a lot of offerings, along with supporting our economy.” Ube continues. His voice is starting to give the fifteen year old a headache. “You’re a good kid Mango, and I don’t mean to upset you, but it's very out of character for you.”
“Just.. Shut up!” Mango hisses. “I don’t care! Leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m already having a rough day?!”
The moment the words escape his mouth, Mango clasps his hands over it. “I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry,” He starts to blurt out, the shock on Ube’s face not leaving. He panics, and makes a dash out the door. He can feel a hot wetness start to form in his eyes.
“Mango! Wait, come back! I’m not mad!” Ube yells, but he refuses to turn back. The wind blocks it out, and Mango continues running towards..
Towards where? He briefly wonders, before going to the place he knows best: His canoe, and the oceans.
The tourist guide uses the rest of his energy to push his canoe into the ocean, before sailing off as fast as he could. His vision was blurry from tears. Mango didn’t have much of an idea of where he wanted to go, but all he knew was that he wanted to be away. Away from Ube, away from the village, away from everything.
After what felt like forever, Mango’s arms eventually slowed to a stop. He placed his paddle down, staring at it. Mango rested his head against his palm, staring at the sea. It seemed to be filled with stars, the illusion being broken when he could spot a watermelon fish swimming by. Though, Mango knew that it was just a reflection of the sky.
Mango broke into tears suddenly. Why did he have to mess everything up? Why couldn’t anything go his way? It wasn’t fair, why did he have to slip up all the time?!
A few sniffles emit from Mango, wiping away the tears. This was all a result of his carelessness. Mango shouldn’t have blown up on Ube, he didn’t deserve it, this was stupid, he was stupid-
A wave crashing against the canoe breaks Mango from his thoughts. He tiredly looks up, rubbing his fingers against his puffy eyes for a moment. He couldn’t feel any wind..
“OooOoooOo!”
A blue fin pops up, then an entire head emerges. Water lightly splashes against Mango’s chest, and he’s greeted by a crooked smile. Relief washes over Mango, realizing that it’s just Sorbet Shark, and not some other terrifying sea creature coming to eat him. The shark waves excitedly, going under the shallow water for a moment to do a few happy flips. Mango’s heart sank, Sorbet must’ve been so happy to see him.. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, unfortunately.
He doesn’t smile back. Mango sighs, his eyes half-lidded. He turns his back to Sorbet, burying his head into his knees. A confused bubble is heard, but Mango doesn’t react. Sorbet pokes at his back, a few more puzzled bubbles being uttered.
“Not right now, Sorbet..” Mango’s voice cracks, and he can feel more tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry..” He lifts his head temporarily, and he can see that Sorbet Shark traveled to the other side of the canoe to see Mango better. Their expression is concerned, their smile being etched into an unusual frown.
“OoOooOO?” They pleaded again, cocking their head. Mango looks tiredly at them. A raspy, empty chuckle is emitted from him, a weak smile on his face.
“I guess you’re not going to leave, huh?” He mumbles. The expression of concern does not leave Sorbet. It was worth a shot. He thinks, sighing heavily.
“OoooOoOOO!” Sorbet Shark replies, their brows furrowing. They clearly wanted to know what was happening. They place their hands on the rail of the mango canoe. Mango can see a few new golden and silver bracelets on their wrists glinting in the moonlight, with various jewels on them.
Mango presses his lips into a thin line, seeing the shark’s gaze not leaving. “Fine.” He mutters, and he can hear the shark straighten up. He appreciated the gesture.
“It started in the late morning, where I had a troubling group of visitors. They-” He paused, a scowl starting to creep up on his face. “They were terrible. Making a commotion that scared the fish away, getting upset at every little thing and making a huge deal about it, and the cherry on top; they somehow managed to tip my canoe over. So now I have to fix that.”
Sorbet nods along, their features starting to shape into a sympathetic expression. They lay their head on their arms, motioning for Mango to continue. Mango can hear a few bubbles of assurance, and he draws a breath.
“When I finally got to shore, they blamed me for everything- Even though it was their fault!” He shakes his head. “Anyways, after that I was pretty hungry. I forgot to eat breakfast, so I opted for some fruit that grows naturally on our islands. I usually get my toucan for it, but even they didn’t want to face me.”
He can feel a familiar wetness in his eyes again. He wipes it away, not wanting to let his friend see it. Sorbet already had enough to deal with; being half shark anyways.
“I couldn’t find my binoculars to find my toucan, so I had to go the rest of the day hungry. Then, I got a sunburn on top of that! I had to use the last of my Aloe Vera on it. Finally, Ube Cookie came and just..”
Mango stopped, a few stray tears dropping on the wood floor of the boat. “I yelled at him. He was asking me about the customers, and looking back on it- I was pretty rude about it.”
He closes his eyes, burying his head into his knees and laughs drily again. “Hah, it’s a pretty stupid thing to get upset over, huh?”
When Mango opens his eyes, Sorbet Shark is gone. He glances around, more tears starting to drip down his face. He breaks into another wail. Not even his best friend wanted to deal with him. Were his feelings too much?
Suddenly, some sea water is flicked against Mango, and his head snaps up. “Huh?” He chokes out in between sobs. Sorbet is leaning against his canoe, now returned from the depths- and hiding something behind their back. Mango cocks a brow?
“What do you have?” He inquires, briefly distracted. He edges over to the shark, reaching for their arm. Sorbet snaps it away, chuckling.
Mango frowns, but Sorbet shows it a few moments later. It’s covered in slick algae, but Mango can make out the shape of one of a pink satchel? It reminds Mango of the ones that Princess can sometimes be seen carrying around; occasionally reaching into it to get her lip gloss or brush to touch up her makeup. He can see ruby red gems embedded on the crust of the upper leather flap.
“Wait, isn’t this Princess’s?!” He exclaims, though without any malice. He smiles. “Mm, but you still shouldn’t steal.” Sorbet giggles, before searching through it.
They pull out two sea-shell bracelets. A few of them are chipped, but the most notable thing are the gems in the center of them. One blue, one orange. Mango breaks into a grin. “Did you make these?”
Sorbet nods eagerly, quickly shoving the bracelet with the warm orange stone onto his wrist. They put the blue gemstone bracelet on. “Thanks, Sorbet.” Mango crosses his legs, smiling again.
They nod, plunging into the depths again. They emerge with a shiny rock this time. Then they show Mango some ancient gold coins, then a few lost toys- The night continues like this, with Sorbet and Mango aweing over various trinkets that the shark has found over the years of living in the Tropical Soda Islands. What tops it off though, is a precisely crafted silver mirror. The actual reflective shards are broken, but Sorbet shows the tourist guide anyways.
Sorbet points at Mango’s reflection. His eyes are in the wrong place, making a pretty amusing picture. Sorbet giggles, before Mango points out their reflection, with their fin misplaced and mouth too far right. The pair breaks into another fit of giggles, Mango almost toppling over from laughter.
“Heh, I should get going now, huh?” Mango says. Sorbet nods, a large grin plastered on their face; satisfied. “Ube is probably worried sick.”
They outstretched their arms, and Mango is confused for a second. The tourist guide quickly gets it, embracing the shark in a tight hug. They release, and Mango gets to his feet, grabbing his paddle and dipping it into the water. He waves to Sorbet Shark, now partially submerged. “See ya!” He gives one last grin, before starting his way home.
“OoOOo!” Sorbet calls back, waving as well.
Tomorrow was a fresh start.