Chapter 13 – Poor Communication

It is very hard to do sign language when you do not have any fingers. It is especially hard to do sign language when, in addition to this, you only have one good fin. Nevertheless, Gill attempted to use sign language in order to try to communicate with Doctor Sherman, to tell him that he wanted to return back to the ocean. He attempted to use American Sign Language and British Sign Language, the only two types that he remembered Mr. Elias using, on those rare occasions when he had read a book about sign language to Patch. Gill was not even sure if he had remembered the signs correctly – and even if he had, if he was able to sign in such a way that humans would be able to understand that that was indeed what he was attempting to do. Still, he persisted, determined to at least keep trying to communicate with the dentist, who seemed amiable enough that Gill was convinced that he would be willing to return Gill back to his ocean home, if only Gill could somehow make him understand that he did not like being held in captivity. Gill signed We Go Ocean several times over the next few weeks, in the hope that Doctor Sherman might be able to realise that Gill was trying to communicate with him.

It was a hopeless task. Even if Gill had still had both of his fins intact, being able to form even the most basic of signs would have been challenging enough – with only one fin it was practically impossible. He remembered Mr. Elias reading to Patch information about apes that had learned to use sign language in order to communicate with humans, but even their use of signing had been decidedly limited, and these apes had hands that were much the same as human hands – certainly very much different from the fins of fish. Once or twice, Gill had asked other members of the Tank Gang to attempt to use sign language to try to communicate with Doctor Sherman – reasoning that, since the other fish that shared his tank still had their fins intact, they might have a better chance of communicating with the dentist, when compared to their crippled leader. Most of them clearly found this whole idea pretty ridiculous – Gurgle and Chuckles had been more than willing to tell Gill this – but Bloat and Deb had attempted to sign to Doctor Sherman, anyway, once Gill had taught them what he remembered from his time within Mr. Elias' tank.

Neither Deb nor Bloat were any more successful at communicating with Doctor Sherman than Gill had been. On the rare occasions when the dentist did notice them, and did seem to realise that they were trying to communicate with him, he would simply laugh and give them fish food, clearly assuming that that was what they wanted, and the only reason that they were behaving in this manner. As Gill watched Deb arguing with Flo, telling her 'sister' that she was not signing effectively, so Gill realised that this was yet another plan that was not going to work. So he was going to have to find another way of trying to communicate with the dentist. He tried carefully mouthing his desire to return to the ocean to Doctor Sherman, in a rather desperate hope that the dentist might be able to lip-read – even though fish did not, technically, have lips. This proved to be just as ineffective as Gill's other attempts at communicating with the dentist, and Gill gradually grew more and more frustrated at his inability to communicate effectively with the human.

What they really needed, Gill decided, was some sort of translator. Patch had been able to communicate with Mr. Elias, in a way, as well as being able to talk with William and Gill. It was a shame that the dentist did not have a pet dog; if he had of done – and if the dog had been as friendly as Patch had been – then perhaps that dog could have been used to communicate with Doctor Sherman. Still, it did not seem as if Doctor Sherman was interested in any other type of pet except for the creatures he kept within his fish tank, and so it was clear that some other type of creature would be needed in order to be a translator from fish to human. With this in mind, Gill had asked Nigel if he knew of any birds that could communicate with humans. Nigel had listened, but been rather sceptical. The pelican had said that some parrots and related species could speak human languages, but that he did not know any personally, and was not sure that there were any that would be able to interpret for Gill even if he did. And even if he were to be able to get a friendly parrot here and that parrot was somehow able to translate for Gill, Nigel was still not sure that they would be able to persuade Doctor Sherman to listen, rather than to try and escort the parrot out of the window, as he had done so recently to Nigel himself.

Gill sighed quietly to himself. No, spoken language would not work, he decided, as he pulled a plastic diver from the side of the tank, and neither would sign language, nor any kind of lip-reading. Well, there was one other form of communication that he had not tried yet, and that was written language. He placed the diver down next to a number of plastic plants, and then went over to the other side of the tank, picked up some more plastic plants, and brought them over to where he was working on his most recent plan.

"Do I want to know what you are doing now?" Chuckles asked, looking down at Gill with some amusement.

Gill sighed, "One last chance to communicate with Doctor Sherman," he said, adjusting the diver slightly, "I've tried sign language and trying to get the dentist to do some lip-reading. Communicating in verbal language also doesn't seem as if it has much chance of working. So I'm left with written language."

"You know, I used to think you were one of the sanest inhabitants of this tank," muttered Chuckles.

"Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles!" came an exclamation, as Bubbles went swimming excitingly past them, towards where Jacques was teaching Gurgle the French word for bubbles1.

Gill turned back to Chuckles, "Compared to what?" he muttered dryly.

"Okay, I give up, what exactly are you doing?" said Chuckles, turning his attention back to where Gill was placing yet more flowers down onto the base of the tank.

Gill gave him a quick grin, "Writing," he said, "forming letters and words out of the objects that are within this tank. Come and look at it from this angle," he added, indicating for Chuckles to come closer to his work.

The goldfish looked sceptical, but followed Gill anyway. If all of the objects were looked at from a particular angle, then it did indeed seem as though they were forming letters, which were, in turn, formed into words. As Chuckles squinted, he could just about make out what Gill was trying to 'write' with the plastic objects from the tank – WE GO OCEAN PLEASE.

Chuckles turned his attention back to Gill, "You think this will work?" he asked, sounding more than a little sceptical.

Gill sighed, "Have you got a better idea?" he asked.

"No," Chuckles admitted, "personally, I think that you should stop wasting your time trying to find a way out of here and instead try to enjoy your time within this tank. But you knew that anyway," he added.

"I won't give up," Gill muttered quietly, "if this doesn't work, then I'll find another way, and if that also doesn't work, then I'll find yet another way. Some day, I will return to the ocean where I belong."

"Well, I've got to admire your determination, if nothing else," said Chuckles. He looked up, "Ah, and here comes our beloved dentist right now," he added, "let's see what he thinks of your little work of art."

Gill glared at Chuckles for a moment, and then turned his attention to where Doctor Sherman had come over to the tank. The dentist was opening a container of fish food, and he then began to sprinkle this absentmindedly into the aquarium. Gill continued to stare up at him, as the fish food gradually descended around him. After a while, Doctor Sherman frowned slightly, when he saw the plants and various objects within the tank arranged in some strange way at the base of the tank. The dentist shook his head, "Darn kids, always fiddling with the fish tank, as if it wasn't bad enough when they kept getting plastic flowers all over the toilet seat," he muttered, and then reached down into the tank. He lifted the plastic objects up into his hand, and then placed them back where they had originally been, before Gill had made this most recent attempt at inter-species communication. The dentist sighed quietly as he removed his hand from the tank, and then began to dry his hand on a towel. "I just hope that that filter is still working okay," he muttered to himself, as he returned back to the other side of his surgery, "otherwise the tank might get dirty and the fish might get sick, with all of the kids playing around with it like that."

Gill continued to watch him for a moment or two, and then gave a huge sigh, "He didn't even notice that they spelt anything," he said.

"Right," muttered Chuckles, "and you thought that he would, did you? I don't think all of these attempts to communicate with him are doing any good, do you? How many failed attempts is that now?"

Gill glared up at where Chuckles was grinning at him, and then sighed again. "No, you are right," he muttered, frowning slightly. "All of these attempts at communication…I'm going about this the wrong way…" his voice trailed off, and he swam towards his skull; he always seemed to think better when he had time alone in his skull, time with which to consider his available options for escape plans.

Chuckles followed him, and peered in at Gill through the empty socket, "Just give up," he suggested, giving him a friendly smile, "you've shown a great deal of creativity and ingenuity with these escape attempts, but they just don't work. Better to just enjoy the time that we have left together, before I go and live with Darla."

"You might be happy to go and live the rest of your life as a child's pet, but I'm not," Gill replied, staring up at Chuckles. "Help me think," he added, "I've tried the volcano, I've tried the pelican, I've tried various ways of communicating with humans, what's left to try?"

"Hmm, not sure," admitted Chuckles, "but the dentist said something about the filter and it keeping this place clean," he added, giving the fish equivalent of a shrug, "do you think that might be of any help?"

Gill stared at Chuckles for a long moment, then at the filter, then at Doctor Sherman (who was still grumbling to himself about annoying kids) and then back to Chuckles once more. Slowly, he smiled, and then grinned, as he stared up a Chuckle's suddenly slightly worried expression.

"Uh oh," muttered Chuckles, "I've seen that look, it means that you've got another idea for an escape plan brewing in that brilliant but slightly insane brain of yours."

"Was that a compliment or an insult?" asked Gill, giving Chuckles a wry smile, "and you are right, I think I've got another idea for an escape plan, and this involves the filter."

"Oh great, another escape plan," said Chuckles, rolling his eyes. He grinned, looked down at where Gill was still staring at him, and sighed, "oh very well, fearless leader," he said, "I still think you are wasting your time and energy, but I'll help you in any way that I can."

"Thank you," said Gill, "that means a lot to me. And I will miss you when you are gone," he added sincerely.

1 'bulles' according to a quick internet search