Tales of a Peculiar Pirate

16. A Good Ol Grilled Cheese

Polly and the kiwis weren't the only ones on The Birbalinda. Somehow, this strange young soul who looked like a baguette personified had found his way onto the ship and was looking at them with utmost displeasure.

"In need of repairs, ain't she," he asked, looking around.

"Sure is," replied Polly. "Do you know where we could get that done?"

"Look no further. I go way back with the fish of Twelfth, so when they rang me up tellin' me there was a crew in need of some help, I told 'em of course. They did teleport me onto this ship though, I'll add, otherwise you could have given me 525,600 minutes and I'd still be searching."

"Oh well that's swell. Do we just leave everything to you?"

"That's right." The lad surveyed the ship yet again, the frown on his face etching itself deeper into his feature. "Looks like I've got my fair share of work cut out for me. Me and those finned fellas will be even after this one."

He directed his attention back to Polly. "I don't need you folks dilly-dallying here; I doubt you'd be able to do much. I'll call in my crew and you can come back in...," he tapped his chin, "three weeks give or take a few."

"Sounds jolly good to me. How much will you be charging?"

"It's on me, I owe the fish one after all. But you'll have to find a place to stay on Sea-Island 6 while I'm working. Can't have any distractions, you understand? I'll figure out a way to let you know when I'm done"

"Roger that. Thanks a bunch!"

With that Polly and her fluffy crew made their way down The Birbalinda and onto the dock that connected them to the island.

Sea-Island 6 was everything Polly had dreamed of and more. The streets were wide and well-paved, and the air was rich with the scent of baked goods. Everywhere she turned there was another shop dedicated to bread, whether it sold ingredients to bake bread, bread themed products, or actual bread itself. Each quaint shop that lined the street had its own unique charm, whether it was in the form of a beaming mascot or windows plastered with posters advertising that particular store's latest goods.

The only thing that ruined what would have otherwise been a golden experience was the fact Polly had no dough. Sure she had the money she saved when she received The Birbalinda from Captain Trixx instead of losing it to the auctioneers, but as she unfortunately discovered, that currency was exclusive to Sea Island 7, and she had no clue where to begin looking for a place to exchange her coin for the local one. So with great woe, she and the kiwis wandered the streets window shopping with empty stomachs and heavy hearts.

"You alright there?"

The question came from a wizened old man whose back curved like a croissant, and though his face sagged with wrinkles, it couldn't hide his just as croissant shaped smile.

"Oh yeah, totally," replied a startled Polly. Unsure what to make of the situation, the kiwis lined up behind Polly as if she were the last line of defense between them and a certain doom.

"You sure? You lookin' mighty starved," said the old man.

Polly too felt suspicious of the figure in front of her, but she also felt very, very hungry.

"Yeah, I haven't had anything to eat in a while. No money either, unfortunately."

"What if I told you I could help you out?"

There were so many alarms going off in Polly's brain that her mind might as well have been a parking lot where a thief was breaking into every car in sight trying to strike it rich. But her stomach wasn't exactly being quiet either, and the rumble it made could have easily come from a volcano about to blow. This time the cries of her acid and enzyme secreting organ were louder than the bells going off in her organ in charge of thinking, and so Polly had no choice but to listen.