Unnatural Creatures

The sailor frowned awhile, then said, “There is nothing at all interesting in the ship’s brig.”

“Thank you very much,” said Amos, and walked on till he came to another sailor, whose feet were awash in soapsuds. The sailor was pushing a mop back and forth so hard that Amos decided he was trying to scrub the last bit of color off the grey boards. “Good evening to you too,” said Amos. “I’m exploring the ship, and I have very little time since I’m to be up at four o’clock in the morning. I was told to avoid the brig. So could you point it out to me? I don’t want to wander into it by accident.”

The sailor leaned his chin on his mop handle awhile, then said, “If you want to avoid it, don’t go down the second hatchway behind the wheelhouse.”

“Thank you very much,” said Amos, and hurried off to the wheelhouse. When he found the second hatchway, he went down very quickly and was just about to go to the barred cell when he saw the grimy sailor with the iron key—who must be the jailer as well, thought Amos.

“Good evening,” Amos said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, and how is yourself, and what are you doing down here?”

“I’m standing here, trying to be friendly,” said Amos. “I was told there was nothing of interest down here. And since it is so dull, I thought I would keep you company.”

The sailor fingered his key awhile, then said, “That is kind of you, I suppose.”

“Yes, it is,” said Amos. “What do they keep here that is so uninteresting everyone tells me to avoid it?”

“This is the ship’s brig, and we keep prisoners here. What else should we keep?”

“That’s a good question,” said Amos. “What do you keep?”

The jailer fingered his key again, then said, “Nothing of interest at all.”

Just then, behind the bars, Amos saw the pile of grubby grey blankets move. A corner fell away, and he saw just the edge of something as red as his own bright hair.

“I suppose, then,” said Amos, “I’ve done well to avoid coming here.” And he turned around and left. But that night, as the rain poured over the deck and the drum-drum-drumming of heavy drops lulled everyone on the ship to sleep, Amos hurried over the slippery boards under the dripping eaves of the wheelhouse to the second hatchway, and went down. The lamps were low, the jailer was huddled asleep in a corner on a piece of grey canvas, but Amos went immediately to the bars and looked through.

More blankets had fallen away, and besides a red as bright as his own hair, he could see a green the color of parrot’s feathers, a yellow as pale as Chinese mustard, and a blue as brilliant as the sky at eight o’clock in July. Have you ever watched someone asleep under a pile of blankets? You can see the blankets move up and down, up and down with breathing. That’s how Amos knew this was a person. “Pssst,” he said. “You colorful but uninteresting person, wake up and talk to me.”

Then all the blankets fell away, and a man with more colors on him than Amos had ever seen sat up rubbing his eyes. His sleeves were green silk with blue and purple trimming. His cape was crimson with orange design. His shirt was gold with rainbow checks, and one boot was white and the other was black.

“Who are you?” asked the parti-colored prisoner.

“I am Amos, and I am here to see what makes you so uninteresting that everyone tells me to avoid you and covers you up with blankets.”

“I am Jack, the Prince of the Far Rainbow, and I am a prisoner here.”

“Neither one of those facts is so incredible compared to some of the strange things in this world,” said Amos. “Why are you the Prince of the Far Rainbow, and why are you a prisoner?”

“Ah,” said Jack, “the second question is easy to answer, but the first is not so simple. I am a prisoner here because a skinny grey man stole a map from me and put me in the brig so I could not get it back from him. But why am I the Prince of the Far Rainbow? That is exactly the question asked me a year ago today by a wizard so great and so old and so terrible that you and I need never worry about him. I answered him, ‘I am Prince because my father is King, and everyone knows I should be.’ Then the wizard asked me, ‘Why should you be Prince and not one of a dozen others? Are you fit to rule, can you judge fairly, can you resist temptation?’ I had no idea what he meant, and again I answered, ‘I am Prince because my father is King.’ The wizard took a mirror and held it before me. ‘What do you see?’ he asked. ‘I see myself, just as I should, the Prince of the Far Rainbow,’ said I. Then the wizard grew furious and struck the mirror into three pieces and cried, ‘Not until you look into this mirror whole again will you be Prince of the Far Rainbow, for a woman worthy of a prince is trapped behind the glass, and not till she is free can you rule in your own land.’ There was an explosion, and when I woke up, I was without my crown, lying dressed as you see me now in a green meadow. In my pocket was a map that told me where all the pieces were hidden. Only it did not show me how to get back to the Far Rainbow. And still I do not know how to get home.”

“I see, I see,” said Amos. “How did the skinny grey man steal it from you, and what does he want with it?”

“Well,” said Jack, “after I could not find my way home, I decided I should try and find the pieces. So I began to search. The first person I met was the thin grey man, and with him was his large black trunk in which, he said, was his nearest and dearest friend. He said if I would work for him and carry his trunk, he would pay me a great deal of money with which I could buy a ship and continue my search. He told me that he himself would very much like to see a woman worthy of a prince. ‘Especially,’ he said, ‘such a colorful prince as you.’ I carried his trunk for many months, and at last he paid me a great deal of money with which I bought a ship. But then the skinny grey man stole my map, stole my ship, and put me here in the brig, and told me that he and his nearest and dearest friend would find the mirror all for themselves.”

“What could he want with a woman worthy of a prince such as you?” asked Amos.

“I don’t even like to think about it,” said Jack. “Once he asked me to unzip the leather flap at the end of the trunk and stick my head in to see how his nearest and dearest friend was getting along. But I would not because I had seen him catch a beautiful blue bird with red feathers round its neck and stick it through the same zipper, and all there was was an uncomfortable sound from the trunk, something like Orulmhf.”