Oceanport Parking Spot

"If you can't read stop signs, get off the road!" My father gripped the steering wheel of our fish-mobile until his tentacles turned white.

Honking vehicles blurred past as we jetted down Coral Avenue.

Approaching a yield sign we slowed. "Father look, a guppie!" I rolled down my window and gawked at the man.

I love guppies!

Walking behind the guppie was a swordfish, next to him a Leatherback turtle. Finned, stingered, and tentacled passersbys filtered past sandstone store fronts and cave entrances.

Mother shoved her compact mirror back into her purse.

Wrapping a paled tentacle around the center console she stammered, "That was a stop sign Herbert!"

Father rolled his eyes.

No matter how well maintained coral city traffic signs are kept, they're utterly powerless against a family in a rush.

I love Coral city! The frowning people on the sidewalks don't seem to like my father though.

Little gold rings blossom on my tentacles.

Honey-sweet smile, I fluff my teddy-fish.

I love loving things: Coral city, my home reef, the sunshine, bubbles, even the meanie people outside my car window yelling and shaking their fist.

Oh, I love bubbles! Whenever father’s behind the wheel, our tailpipe spews hundreds of them. Silly little bubble trails. They disappear far too quickly.

"Bye-bye bubbles!" I pressed my face against the rear-view window and waved one tentacle.

My attention returned to the teddy-fish and shiny plastic toys scattered on the seat next to me.

My teddy-fish has the cutest little bowtie!

"Cindy," Fathers six eyes held mine in his rear-view mirror. Wrinkles gathered under his eyes as he squinted. I couldn't help but squirm.

He loudly thrummed his tentacles on the steering wheel. "Mommy and Daddy need to focus honey, we have to find a parking spot so we don't miss our flight." Mother leaned forward and eyed a passing street sign, her seat squeaking. Father continued "Stay quiet for now. Once we check our luggage in we'll get you an icecream, okay?"

"With sprinkles?" My eyes sparkled.

I love sprinkles, but not as much as my new binoculars!

Father drove us over a median with a violent jerk of the steering wheel.

My favorite starfish stuffy tumbled from my tentacles and joined the rest of my toys at the far end of the seat.

I reached and reached. "Got you!" I pulled my tumbling little things back into my lap.

Father gritted his teeth. "Yes Cindy, with sprinkles, whatever you want as a topping, we'll get it. Just for now - Shhh!"

My mother's usually sweet voice tears into a sharp screech. "Herbert, slow down for that red light! You’re going to hit someone!"

"Put your toys away Cindy, they're too noisy!" Mother turned and peered at me over her seat's shoulder. My little tentacles curled tightly around my teddy-fish.

The squeal of our tires dies down to a groveling murmur as we merge onto an off ramp.

Father snorted, his brow furrowed."Now the fun part begins."

We roll to a stop in front of a steel security gate. The flounder manning the gates adjacent security snatches fathers ID from his tentacle.

He glances between fathers scowling, sweaty profile and his driver's license photo.

smirking, he leaned a fin against his booth window. " Card cleared, nice ride by the way. I'm a big fan of classic fish-mobiles too."

The ding of his register and the humming of our vehicle filled the extending silence of the parking lot for a moment.

With a flick of his fin, the security guard tosses my fathers cards back to him.

the flounder leans back in his seat and kicks his legs up on his cluttered desk. “You have quite an unusual last name. I wonder how you pronounce that?”

He picks at a hang nail, " parking may be tough today, we have a lot more flights leaving today than usual. Good luck Mr-"

"Ruecortzki." Abrupt. No clarification on pronunciation.

My fathers usual cool colored tentacles bloomed scarlet rings. He hit the gas, leaving the overly bored security guard in the dust.

The road past the security gates opened into a large parking lot. Crookedly parked fish-mobiles occupied every visible inch of parking space for as far as the eye could see. I wonder if my father has ever seen a whale-mobile before?

"Wait Hubert, slow down There's a parking spot right there!" Fathers lead foot strikes again. We pummeled down the lane of the accused parking spot.

Fathers face reddened at the sight of blue painted pebbles signifying the boundaries of the parking spot. That's a handicap parking spot! Do you want to get us towed?" I gently stroked my teddy-fishes fuzzy head. "You're safe Teddy. I won't let you or my other toys get towed away with the car!"

Mother slammed her tentacles on the dashboard. "At this point, we might as well cancel our vacation, we'll never make it to our terminal in time."

My eyes blurred with unshed tears as a jellyfish bobble-head on the dashboard jumped with mother's sudden violence.

"We're going to miss our flight!" Spat mother. 

Squinting through my tears, I happened to notice something six or seven rows away." Father, look over there! Next to that Kelp tree!"

" I see a parking spot!"

"Quiet Cindy, and pack those noisy toys of yours back into your suitcase! I don't remember saying you had permission to take those out."

Reaching inside my satchel, I pulled out my trusty binoculars. I wouldn’t lose track of that spot.

My father had to park at that spot next to the kelp tree. If someone else found it, they'd park and we would miss our flight!

"Father next to that kelp tree! Just look, there's a spot!"

"Cindy, be quiet!"

"For the love of Neptune, hush daughter!"

Round and round we went. Up and down every row of fish-mobiles for what felt like an hour.

"Herbert, there's a spot!"

Mother pointed a tentacle at a familiar kelp tree.

My toys hopped high into the air as father hit the brakes for the fifth time. "Thank you Mr.Seatbelt!"

Would we make it to our flight in one piece?

"Right there, next to that Kelp tree, there's an empty spot!" Mothers voice trembled, a purple vein on her neck throbbed.

Father reversed our fish-mobile and turned down a new row of vehicles, perspective soaked the collar of his button-up. Mother's eyes glued to the long dial of her shiny sea-silver watch.

Once we were safely parked in our spot, father and mother simultaneously leaned back in their seats.

"We made it." Father exhaled, his eyes closed as his head bounced against the headrest. Would they thank me? I highly doubt it.

The tension straining mother's tentacles evaporated. She turns to face me again, this time a jovial smile brightens her makeup-heavy face.

"Cindy, it's time to pack up your toys. We're not going to miss our flight so turn that frown of yours into a smile. If I hadn't found this parking spot we would miss our flight to the Great Barrier Reefs. Be greatful!"

I couldn’t help but clutch teddy-fish, trusty binoculars and bruised pride close to my chest.

" I told you so."