The Beach Guardian

      Blumrah rolled his eyes before turning his attention to an abandoned Neocola can half-buried beneath the sand. The Water Blumaroo retrieved the debris with his Grarrl Grabber before shoving it into his bag. “Yes, I remember you scaring me with threats like that when we were kids.”

      Azisam, a Woodland Blumaroo, chuckled as the pair continued down the beach. He speared a discarded tube of 30 proof Kacheek Sun Screen with his own makeshift rubbish collector, his trusty Enchanted Wizard Mushroom Staff. “So, your shift ended thirty minutes ago. How long do you typically stick around to clean up the beach?”

      “As long as it takes,” Blumrah answered with a shrug before the two carried on in silence.

      The truth was, some days, particularly during this time of year, it would take Blumrah hours to clean the beach. From the end of the Month of Hunting through the beginning of the Month of Gathering, Roo Island’s shores were swarming with an influx of visitors. Neopians often travelled from the Lost Desert, looking for a refreshing, coastal community or descended from Terror Mountain, eager to warm up their chilled bones.

      Blumrah had complicated feelings when it came to off-islanders. He worked as a lifeguard at Roo Island’s main beach, located right off its central pier. He spent all day patrolling the shoreline and protecting his fellow Neopians. He loved his job and truly cared for the souls he guarded. But oftentimes, that care felt like a one-way street. Vacationers gave no thought to the land or locals: out-of-sight, out-of-mind, and these shores would soon be out of their sight once they returned home. While Blumrah scanned the waters for riptides or struggling swimmers, he also watched the beach and saw Neopets littering daily. Neopians thought that since they were on vacation, they were remiss of their responsibilities. The land and wildlife paid the price.

      Blumrah looked between his bag and his brother’s. Both were brimming with discarded rubbish: crushed Neocola cans, empty Coffee Cave cups, children’s lost springy toys. A piece of plastic caught his eye. Blumrah reached down through the gritty sand and unearthed an intact, six-pack ring. The Neocola cans it formerly held were crushed and lying a few feet away. He let out a growl. “Don’t folks know how dangerous this is?” he shouted. “Water Turtum get stuck in these all the time!”

      Azisam gave his brother a sympathetic smile. “You’re doing great work here, Blumrah. It’ll be okay. You just—”

      “No!” Blumrah interjected. “It won’t be okay. It’s not enough. There’s always more trash, and…” He paused and let out a defeated sigh. “And I’m not enough.” He took a deep breath trying to steady himself. Azisam meant well. Blumrah appreciated that he wanted to help, but sometimes, despite Blumrah’s best efforts, he couldn’t help feeling resentment toward his brother and their other siblings who had left Roo Island. As soon as he was old enough, Azisam headed off to Terror Mountain to live in the woods outside Happy Valley. Azisam had always had an affinity for nature and quickly became an apprentice to a woodland mage. He returned to Roo Island to visit, sure, but once Blumaroos left, so did part of their stake in the welfare of the island. This wasn’t Azisam’s home anymore, not really, and he didn’t have a Warf in this fight like Blumrah did.

      Blumrah’s grip on his Grarrl Grabber tightened. He surveyed the beach and the numerous tourist stragglers still enjoying the warm sun and cool waters even as the day neared its end. Their voices seemed to grow louder and louder in his ears. He was grinding his teeth. His breathing was heavy. He stared ahead and caught sight of another discarded six-pack ring and snapped. Without even thinking, Blumrah reached across and yanked Azisam’s staff right out of the Woodland Blumaroo’s hand.

      “Whoa, what on Neopia do you think you’re doing? Give that—” Before Azisam could finish, Blumrah waved the staff through the air. White light flashed across the beach before quickly dissipating. Blumrah froze, shocked at what he’d just done. The beach seemed to grow eerily quiet while he held his breath. A second passed. Then another.

      “I’m sorry.” Blumrah shook his head as he offered Azisam the staff. “I don’t know what came over me. I just—” His words were cut off by a sudden rumble beneath their feet. Shocked gasps escaped the tourists lounging across the beach. Umbrellas toppled over at the intense rocking of the sand. The waters lapped violently on the shore, all as the most remarkable sight occurred before Blumrah’s unbelieving eyes.

      Blumrah’s mouth fell open as he watched the trash littering the remainder of the beach come alive. Neocola cans danced toward the lifeguard tower. Plastic rings rolled across the sand like spinning wheels. The springy toys bounced up from their sandy tombs. Forgotten sandcastle toys and sunglasses whirled past shrieking tourists. A lost pair of sandals walked themselves to the congregation.

      Together, the rubbish morphed into a watery creature. Blumrah struggled to find the words to even identify the monster that he had created. It was like a living waterspout: a swirling, violent vortex, and inside it, floating all about, was the overwhelming amount of waste that had littered the beach. Blumrah tipped his head back to take in the full size of the beast. It was at least as tall as three of the lifeguard towers stacked, and it had a gargantuan trunk and limbs made up of undulating tides of trash-filled water. The monster turned its giant neck from side to side, surveying the beach before opening its wide mouth and unleashing a blood-curdling roar.

      Chaos ensued.

      Tourists were screaming. Babies were wailing. Neopians were running in every direction. Sand was kicked up through the air. Belongings were left behind in the mad dash to escape the beach. The beast remained where it was—giving chase was unnecessary at its monstrous size; it simply extended an arm forward and shot streams of trash-filled water at the fleeing Neopets. A Stealthy Lupe let out a cry after she was hit with an apple core. A Pink Mynci fell, midstride, after a Broken Gulper Float Ring was ring-tossed right around his torso.

      Blumrah shrieked in panic, grabbing his brother by the shoulders as he pleaded, “Azisam, quickly! Do something!”

      “I—I—” the Woodland Blumaroo stammered. “I’m not that far into my training yet, Blum. I, uh, I just learned how to make mushrooms sprout from a log,” he offered sheepishly.

      “What good is that?” Blumrah demanded in a panic. “You’ve got to know a counterspell!”

      Azisam shook his head. “This is beyond my skill. We’ll have to—” The monster let out another terrifying roar as it stormed toward a family of Wockies.

      Blumrah charged forward. It was his job to protect these Neopians from danger, and it was his fault they were in this danger in the first place. Just as a rogue sandal soared through the air toward the quaking Wockies, Blumrah leapt into its path and caught the wayward shoe with his Grarrl Grabber. The Blumaroo threw his body between the family and his creation, waving his arms in the air to get its attention.

      “That’s enough!” Blumrah scolded. “I know you’re angry. I’m angry too! I’m so so angry, and I’m tired of being the only one who seems to care. But this, this isn’t the answer!” Blumrah gestured to the scared family behind him. “You can’t hurt others. You’re better than this! And I—” He paused, letting his thoughts settle for a moment before he quietly said, more to himself than the monster, “I’m better than this, and I made you. You’re a part of me, and we both have to channel our anger for good. To find a better way.”

      Azisam bounced to his younger brother’s side and gently offered him the staff. “No,” Blumrah said quietly, waving the staff away as he began to understand what needed to be done. “I don’t think I need that. I don’t think we need that.” He held up his arms before him, hands splayed to show he wasn’t a threat as he slowly approached his creation, careful not to spook the watery being. It shot a pair of sunglasses at him, but Blumrah carefully stepped to the side to avoid the hit. “I know it’s hard,” he said, hands still in plain view and voice low to pacify the raging monster. “We can do this together,” Blumrah continued as he inched forward. The beast let out a broken, sorrowful roar.

      “I know. I know,” Blumrah offered softly as he nodded to the trash swirling through the creature. “It hurts me too.” Blumrah stopped before his creation and placed a gentle hand on the rushing water, patting a Pizzaroo box as it floated through the current of the creature’s body. His creation slowly reached down and placed a large paw on Blumrah’s back, giving him a comforting pat. From the corner of his eye, Blumrah saw a crowd beginning to return to the beach, staring in marvel as the two, Water Blumaroo and Water…Something, embraced by the lifeguard tower. Blumrah wrapped his arms around the creature’s colossal leg and felt an immediate sense of peace and understanding wash over him; whatever this creature was, it felt his pain, his anger, and his outrage too.

      And then, another rumble. This one less violent than the one before. Blumrah looked up and took a step back from his creation as the swirling creature was enveloped in bright, white light. The rubbish began to fall away from the water and land in heaps at the feet of the creature. As those mounds collected, they changed. The plastic sandcastle toys, sunglasses, sunscreen tubes, and more swirled together in a beautiful array of white light before a beam flashed and they transformed into…bins. Rubbish bins. An entire army of them to reinforce the lone few scattered across the beach.

      Broken wooden umbrella stands morphed into sturdy signs with bright red letters painted across, reading “No Littering.” Empty food wrappers and waterlogged books were reborn as brochures. Blumrah plucked one up from the stack. “Thank You for Keeping Roo Island Clean” was printed across the top with pictures of the scenic coastline, flourishing wildlife, and bouncing locals who called this beach home year-round. There were slogans throughout reminding visitors not to litter. In the centre was an image of King Roo pointing forward with text encircling him that read “Only YOU Can Prevent Littering.” The bottom of the brochure had a reminder: “Please Recycle.”

      Blumrah looked up from the paper in his hands to see the rubbish bins walking to their places along the beach, easily visible and accessible. The signs hopped along to stand by the entrances for all beachgoers to see, and finally, the brochures took flight like a flock of Quintilc as they headed for their new homes in the shops along the pier and across Roo Island.

      With the refuse recycled into new, useful items, the giant, water creature stood empty, its body swirling and sloshing around until ripples suddenly appeared along its surface. Blumrah stared in confusion as the creature’s, his creature’s, body began to fall away, melting into a pool right at the base of the lifeguard tower.

      “No!” he shouted in horror, falling to his knees and desperately trying to collect the water in his hands. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Come back. Please. Please, come back,” the Blumaroo pleaded, tears camouflaged as they rolled down his Water cheeks. He closed his eyes, hung his head in sorrow, and ran his hands through the pool, the last remnant of his creation. Azisam solemnly placed a comforting hand on his bereaved brother’s shoulder. The crowd’s murmuring ceased as everyone took in the sad scene, but after a moment, a small voice from within the gathered Neopets cried out. “Look!”

      Blumrah opened his eyes and stared at the water beneath him as it began to separate and collect into dozens of different forms. He jumped up in surprise and took a step back as the scene unfolded. Suddenly, the forms opened their eyes, and all looked up at Blumrah.

      “They’re—” Azisam began. “Petpets,” Blumrah finished. “Water Petpets. A whole fleet of them!” The Water Blumaroo couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he watched his new companions take to their posts. A group of Water Flotillas dove into the sea and began patrolling the shore. A Water Minitheus climbed up the lifeguard tower and took watch, scanning the waters. A Water Cadro teetered over to a Kacheek who had just dropped a water bottle onto the sand before attempting to leave. The Petpet rushed to catch up to the Neopet and gently tapped her with one hand, while a second snatched up the water bottle, a third pointed to the “No Littering” sign, and its final hand pointed to the rubbish bin. The Kacheek blushed, muttered a quick apology, and rushed off to recycle the bottle.

      The crowd began to disband as a plethora of other Water Petpet guardians took to their posts along the beach. A Water Juma stayed behind and let out an excited cry as she danced around at Blumrah’s feet before rolling over and showing her belly. Blumrah let out a bemused laugh and bent down to pet the creature. “I’ve been thinking of getting a Petpet for a while now,” he told the excited Juma before he looked out across the beach at all the other Petpets, and all the tourists too, who were, after an excitable afternoon, already putting to use the new rubbish bins. “Thanks for reminding me I’m not so alone after all.”

      Azisam cleared his throat. “As you know, I’m still learning,” he began with a chuckle. “And the very first lesson of my studies was on the origins of magic. They say love is the most powerful magic of all.” He beamed down at his brother. “Your passion. Your care. Your love for your home created all of this, Blumrah. I’m really proud of you.” He teasingly nudged his younger brother. “You’d make a good mage.”

      Blumrah plucked up the Water Juma, and the three began walking along the beach toward home. A content smile spread across his face. “Thanks, but I’m happy being a lifeguard.”

     The End.