Beach Episode Part Two

"Why didn't it live?" Atlas shouted, disbelievingly holding a well-cooked fish in his hands.

"It is not thy fault. Thy understanding of animals is not deep enough to blame thee." I consoled him. "To let the fish adapt, rather than torching it, it is best to introduce it to slowly increasing temperatures."

I began teaching him about the existence of genes and adaptations.

"Each fish has what is called genes. Genes are the instructions for the fish's cells to make things that make the fish a fish." I pointed to the fish still clutched in his small hands. "When a fish is subjected to a change in environment, either it adapts to it, or it dies."

"Why does it have to die?" Atlas asked, sorrowfully gazing at the black-charred fish.

"To adapt to the new environment, the fish's genes must change. As they change, mutations will appear, which will determine whether the fish lives or dies."

"What is a mutation?" Violet interjected.

"A mutation is an error in the fish's genes that influences it's body one way or another." I explained. "For example, some salmon are white while others are red. This is because of a mutation in the white fish that caused the coloring for its scales to vanish "

"Are Violet's eyes a mutation?" Atlas asked curiously.

"Yes." I nodded. "Normally, human eyes are blue, brown, green or black."

"Wow!" Atlas exclaimed. "Violet you're so cool!"

"Of course I'm cool." Violet giggled.

Atlas gingerly put the fish back into the sea and watched the waves carry its burnt carcass towards open water.

"What happens when an animal dies?" Atlas asked suddenly.

"Well, not even I know that." I responded, patting his head. "In this world there are things that none are capable of comprehending, or none are capable of comprehending yet. I do believe that understanding life after death will be impossible."

"Maybe you just don't know about it yet." Violet suggested.

"Perhaps my children will do what I never could." I remarked playfully.

"I can do that with seashells." Atlas remarked, holding up the bottom half of a clamshell. "I picked it up first, so you never can pick it up first."

"Is it a certainty that no other person picked it up before thee?" I asked smilingly.

Not knowing how to reply, Atlas collected more shells and Violet followed suit.

A few hours later, I led the children back to the city to explore.

"What is that?" Violet pointed to a picture of breaded fish pasted on the inside of a store window. "It looks like a bad shield."

"A restaurant specializing in a dish called fish and chips." I explained. "The fish is breaded and can be eaten with vinegar or tartar sauce. Care to try?"

Both children glanced at each other simultaneously, rushing inside excitedly.

A bell attached to the door jingled merrily as we entered, alerting the waiting staff to our presence.

"Welcome." A female waiter casually dressed in a yellow sundress greeted us.

"Table for three." I said.

Curious about every little thing, the two children eagerly took in every detail about the little restaurant.

From the dull and worn red carpet, to the brown and green benches, the entire restaurant exhumed an aura of a building that had seen its best days four centuries prior.

From the silence coming from the still and off-white kitchen, it seemed that we were the sole customers at the establishment.

As we ordered, the kitchen gradually began producing sound as they made our order.

While they were munching happily upon the crispy breaded fish, the scent of enemies suddenly reached my nose.

"Atlas, please use thy fork and knife." I reprimanded him absentmindedly, focusing on the two people I had detected. "That's what it is there for."

After a few seconds, I figured out their general location.

Two people, atop the building Violet, Atlas, and I were in.

'Why now?' I wondered internally. 'I suppose it might be nigh time for me to send my kids away for schooling.'

I began considering how to confront them in a way that would not leave Atlas and Violet unattended or put them in danger.

I glanced at the ceiling briefly, as if I could see the two people through the timber roof.

The kids finished their meal without incident, complimenting the waiters and chefs on the way out.

The staff enthusiastically returned compliments to them, telling them how mature they were for their age, and asking me how I managed to raise such wonderful children.

I chuckled and pretended it was a secret as we left the restaurant, the bell behind the door jingling behind us.