Chapter 7

Mayor Blair had been right about one thing. The pearl certainly brought in an abundance of tourism. Over the next few months, Skiff saw more money in his pockets in a day, than he had ever done in weeks as a fisherman. He almost wished he'd caught a merperson much sooner. But despite his new found fame in the Guinness world record books, and as the deputy mayor of Brigodston, Skiff was unable to forget his promise to his fishy friend. He still had Pescecorp to deal with – and they'd been on his back from the moment they found out about his 'discovery'.

He'd been giving a speech to a few members of the press that afternoon, explaining how the pearl was an 'indication of Brigodston's wonderful marine world'. He'd finished giving his fake explanation to do with the lobster pot, and then went back stage to retire for an afternoon of reading. He hadn't cast a line off his boat for almost 4 months, although he'd taken the occasional sailing trip to relax himself after a particularly long day of greeting eager pearl enthusiasts. Even so, he'd noticed himself becoming distant from his previously loved profession, and the realisation saddened him. As he'd made his way out into the hall way, he was suddenly stopped short by three familiar figures.

"Hey small stand" Zak leered, obviously not acknowledging the fact Skiff had not sold any fish since he brought the pearl back.

"Zak. Dave. Marco" Skiff nodded and tried to dodge between them, but the three of them blocked the hallway like an intimidating stone wall.

"You say you pulled that pearl up in a lobster pot?" Dave asked calmly. He was smoking indoors, clearly disobeying the bright red sign that hung on the wall to his left "I call the whole thing bilge water. Treasure's like that don't come THAT easily – our nets have been scraping miles off the bottom of that ruddy ocean floor for months and all of a sudden that appears on the end of your tiny little cage? Pah"

"I'm guessing you never played minesweeper then" Skiff said quickly, trying yet again to get through. Still the three man wall blocked his escape. Dave took a menacing step forwards, and Skiff wondered whether this was the end, and who would find his body behind the stage.

"Ahh Skiff, there you are. The mayor of Cliffsheven was wondering if you'd consider meeting up with him at five. He's quite the pearl enthusiast you know, and he's awfully keen to study the colours of this one. I told him it's quite intriguing"

"Thank you m'am" Skiff nodded "Five it is"

"Wonderful, I'll set up the east wing dining hall for you"

The three men of Pescecorp had to shuffle to let the mayor through, and Skiff had taken his chance to slip by as well.

"We've got our eyes on you, small stand" Dave glowered as he passed. In the moment, Skiff had suddenly been overcome by a tingle of foreboding. But that night as he lay staring at the ceiling, he found himself thinking about Captain's request for him to influence the overthrowing of Pescecorp, and how the merman himself was fighting tirelessly against the nets that were cast into the ocean. The least Skiff could do was to somehow rival the business by – then it struck him. The man sat bolt upright in bed, slapping a palm to his forehead, wondering why on earth he hadn't thought of it sooner. He reached across for his telephone right then and there, knowing there wasn't a moment to spare.

For the first time in his life, he was happy to see Big Dave and his cronies the next day. Skiff had set out extra early and was patiently waiting by the Pescecorp boat, where a large chain had been strung across the docks.

"Wuss all this?" Dave snarled, reaching for the chains.

"What's all this, SIR?" Skiff smiled innocently, waving him back with a small slip of paper. "I'm afraid you're boat is now out of business"

Dave was a naturally pale man, and it was unusual to see his face redden as deeply as it did.

"Whaddya mean out of business, pipsqueak?" He snarled. "Ain't nothing wrong with her" #

"Perhaps not, but I'm afraid you don't own her anymore" And with that, Skiff unravelled the paper, showing a legal document, and his rights to Pescecorp's boat.

"Who knew a single pearl could make enough to buy out an entire ship and leave some left over? What a lucky lobster pot"

The sailor was greatly enjoying the look of anger, fear and respect that was mixed to varying degrees on all three of his rivals. But the contract was as legally binding as any other. And without the boat they were out of business altogether.

"Don't worry though! There's always small stand fishing to fall back on" Skiff took a plain fishing rod from where it was leaning against the railings and threw it at Zak. Then he turned on his heel, and walked off down the street without so much as a side glance at their reactions.

"I gotta say boss ... he got us good" Marco admitted, staring at the chains that blocked off the dock way to their ex ship.

"My left kneecap he got us!" Dave exploded suddenly, biting down hard on his cigarette "One little oyster blister isn't keeping me from my money!" He began tugging at the chains, but even he wasn't strong enough to break them.

"T-that's kinda illegal now" Zak pointed out nervously, lacking his earlier confidence.

Big Dave gave a short, sharp laugh, like the bark of a hyena.

"Oh please so are many things. We went soft on Skiff that first day, but I won't make that mistake again"

"W-what are you gonna do?"

"WE" Dave smirked, wrapping one arm around either one of his companions and squeezing slightly "Are going to teach that small fry a lesson"

"How?" Zak squeaked "He practically owns us"

"He owns our BOAT. Not us"

"He's also the deputy mayor, and pretty famous" Marco reminded him "It'll be hard to touch him"

"We'll just have to come up with another plan then won't we?" Dave took the cigarette from his mouth and stomped on it hard. "If he's so keen to go playing in the ocean, why don't we help him see it ... up close?"