on nights without stars.”
The beasts accepted this — “Oh” “Too bad for you” “Kings have it rough” — they said, and began to eat. They grabbed at the wet flesh of the giant worm with their claws, the bloody juice pouring down their chins and between their fingers. Max couldn’t watch. He stared at the fire.
And as they ate it, the worm, Max soon realized, was causing different reactions in different beasts. Ira became quiet and melancholy, his eyes welling as he thought of some distant sweet memory. Douglas tried to fight the effects, his eyes darting around as his mouth went slack and his words began to slur. As for Judith, she became flirty, touching everyone on the arm, the shoulders, giggling and finding a half-dozen reasons to get up and find her way to Douglas so she could touch the back of his neck. But when he slapped her paw away for the last time, her sharper edges appeared again, and she narrowed her eyes at Max.
“I can’t believe we’re still not talking about what’s on everyone’s mind,” Judith said. “The king here is trying to kill off some of us. Is that of concern to anyone?”
No one answered, but it was obvious that the subject was on the minds of at least half the beasts.
“So Max sailed for over a year!” Carol offered, intent on changing the subject.
“That’s a long time,” Douglas said cheerfully.
“A whole year alone,” Ira said, looking up into the darkness. “That’s so sad.”
“Why’d it take that long, King? Slow boat?” Judith asked, her eyes full of menace.
“No, it was a good boat,” Max said.
“So you’re just not a good sailor?” she taunted.
“No, I’m a really good sailor. I mean, the boat didn’t have a motor on it. I was sailing as fast as that boat …”
“Oh, I’m just giving you a hard time,” Judith giggled, without any mirth at all. “Don’t be so sensitive! Really though, have we already experienced the full range of your plans for fixing everything on the island? A parade, a war, and then we all die from molten lava?”
Carol stared Judith down. Finally she looked away and continued eating.
“I’m feeling the void again,” Ira added.
“Don’t worry, Ira,” Douglas said. “Max’ll solve it. He always says the right things. Just wait. Right Max? Go ahead.”
Everyone stared at Max, and Max was surprised to see that their faces were genuinely hopeful, expectant. There was real hope that Max, their king, truly did have a notion.
“Well, I thought …” Max mumbled. He didn’t, actually, have another plan at all. The silence stretched out uncomfortably. Finally he arrived at an idea, though its quality was uncertain. “I thought … I thought I could give you all royal titles.”
Ira looked confused.
Judith cleared her throat.
Alexander snickered.
No one was impressed, not even Carol. The look on his face was more like shock. He couldn’t believe that was the best Max could do. Max tried to spruce up the plan:
“…and I could give you all special duties and, like, those things that go across your chest,” he said, while gesturing in a diagonal across his torso, trying to remember the word for sash.
“Snakes?” Judith guessed.
“No …” Max said.
“We already have snakes,” Judith said.
“No, no …” Max insisted.
“I don’t like wearing snakes there,” Ira said.
“It’s not a snake!” Max snapped. “It’s more royal than that. It’s—”
“A stick?” Douglas said, trying to help.
“No!” Max wailed.
“Sounds like like a snake to me,” Judith said. “And no one likes to wear snakes there—”
“Let me finish!” Max barked.
Max tried to think of the word. “It’s …” he meandered, gesturing across his chest again. “It’s …”
Finally he gave up, defeated. “You’ll have royal titles,” he mumbled.
The silence was profound. Max’s subjects were so under whelmed that they didn’t need to say anything. Max had to move onward and upward as soon as he could, so he stood, thinking he knew what to do. It had cheered his mom up, it had made his sister and her friends laugh hysterically — it would have to work here. He made his arms and legs stiff and began his incredible robot dance.
But as he did the dance — and he did it very well, as good as ever before — the beasts, far from being impressed, were alarmed.
“What’s he doing?” Judith asked. “What is that?”
“Uh oh, somebody broke the king,” Ira concluded.
“Is he sick?” Judith wondered aloud.
“I don’t know, but it’s making me sick,” Alexander grumbled. “What kind of king would do something like this?”
Max