The next morning the sun was shining and
the sea was reflecting back the sky in a deep sparkling blue. The fisherman
stood on the beach and called across the calm water:
“Flounder, flounder, prince of the
sea,
my wife Liberelle, whom I love very
well,has sent me to ask a boon of thee.”
Much to the fisherman’s surprise, after a
few moments a golden head popped above the water. “What does she want?” asked
the flounder.
“She says I should have accepted your
generosity,” said the fisherman. “Our shack is much better than nothing, but it
is drafty. She would like a snug little cottage with a garden and a proper
kitchen. If that’s not too much to ask,” he added conscientiously.
“Go back to your wife,” the flounder said
simply. “She is at her cottage already.” Then, with a golden flash, he
disappeared back into the deep blue water.
Fraco was surprised. He wasn’t sure what
he had expected from the flounder. Perhaps some sunken sea gold so he could
afford to construct the cottage. The fish was magical certainly, but did it
have enough magic to change a building?
When
Fraco returned home, the shack was nowhere to be seen. In its place was the
most beautiful cottage he’d ever seen. It was low and square and snug, with a
red door and lace-trimmed curtains on the windows. Smoke was curling lazily
from a stone chimney. Bright red flowers bloomed next to the step and along the
pathway. On the side of the cottage, Fraco saw two more gardens, one filled
with an array of flowers all in colorful bloom and the other teeming with ripe
vegetables ready to be picked.
As he approached, his wife came bounding
down the steps beaming. “Isn’t this beautiful!” she said, pulling his arm and
showing him the inside. “That generous flounder! This is just perfect for the
two of us.”
There was a sitting room was squishy
chairs, and a bedroom with a large comfortable bed on a shiny brass bedstead.
Best of all (at least in Liberelle’s eyes) was a full kitchen with bright
copper pots on the walls, herbs hanging in bunches from the ceiling, and a
large shiny pump in the corner the brought in cool clear water.
That night, Liberelle made a hearty stew
thick with fish and vegetables, and they both slept well in their soft bed with
full stomachs, blessing their lucky stars and the golden flounder.
Several
happy months passed for the pair. The fisherman went to the sea every day, but
now with Liberelle tending the gardens at home, they weren’t worried about days
when fish were scarce. But one day after dinner, Liberelle looked around and
sighed. “The flounder was nice to be sure, but this cottage is a bit small. He
could have given us an extra room or two.”
Fraco was confused. “What for?” As far as
he was concerned, they had everything they needed.
“So we could have someone to visit,” his
wife said.
“Who?” Fraco asked. “We’ve got no
children, nor grandchildren neither.”
“I know,” said Liberelle in frustration.
“But I get lonely with you gone all day every day. Is one extra room too much
to ask?”
The fisherman was more confused than ever.
He had always been gone all day. Liberelle had never made any mention of being
lonely before.
Every evening for the next two weeks, his
wife said their little cottage, though neat and snug was too small and too far
from town. Then one evening, she told the fisherman, “We should live in a
proper house in town. Go tomorrow and call the flounder again. It’s not too
much to ask. If he can give us a little cottage, then he can surely give us a
nice house in town.”
“Oh, no,” Fraco said. “We’ve already received
our reward from him. I cannot go back to him and ask for something else. You
loved the cottage when we first got it.
“That was before I’d had a chance to think
about it properly,” Liberelle said archly. “Go first thing tomorrow and ask.”
The fisherman didn’t want to bother the
flounder, but he didn’t want to argue with his wife either. So he agreed with a
sigh and went to bed without another word.
The next day was bright and clear, but
there was a stiff wind blowing off the sea. The surface of choppy and a darker
blue than usual. Fraco hoped that the flounder had long since forgotten about
him and would not come. But he walked to the edge of the water and called:
“Flounder, flounder, prince of the
sea,
my wife Liberelle, whom I love very
well,
has sent me to ask a boon of thee.”
Immediately the flounder appeared in the
water before the fisherman. “What would you like?” he asked. “Didn’t your wife
like the cottage?”
“She did,” Fraco said morosely. “But now
she says we must have a proper house in town,” he said, fearing his audacity
would make the sea prince angry.
The flounder though was calm. “Go back to
your wife,” the flounder said. “She is in her house already.” Then he
disappeared with a bright gold flash.
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