An Ocean Full of Prudence and Vanity

A fantasy of perpetually poor leadership that has dire consequences.

Mayor Otto Bradley fiddled with a buckle on his official garb, straightened his seafoam green sash, and then returned his attention to supervise Alexander, the city engineer. The mayor leaned over the civil servant, who in turn knelt over the mainstreet canal in the city of Avonlea. Alexander dipped down a fathometer attached to a long string, pulled it up out of the water and checked the reading. He wrote furiously in an old leather bound notepad.

“What’s the verdict, man! Don’t keep me waiting,” the mayor said.

“It doesn’t look good,” Alexander said.

“How is it possible that we’re sinking?”

“I’m not sure. At this rate, within a few days, all of the walkways will be submerged. It might be time to call Tobias.”

“Ugh, that old fool wizard. I want your report by morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alexander packed up his gear into small, old wooden boxes, then neatly packed those like puzzle pieces into a larger box, bowed his head and left. There would be no morning report. Alexander and his family chartered a boat to the mainland without notice. The mayor considered it treachery to question his leadership in such a fashion. Nonetheless, he lit a fire on top of a tall stone spire in the city center, signaling the wizard from afar.

A canal ferry, filled with students on their way to school, passed by the mayor on his morning walk to the outskirts of the city. The younger children giggled and waved as the teacher tried her best to get them to remain seated. The wake from the ferry sent a splash of water over the edge, soaking the mayor’s shoes. He squashed and squeaked the remainder of the distance.

Waist high stone columns and wrought iron fencing forged of black steel, surrounded the entire boundary of Avonlea. The mayor leaned over one of the column caps and inspected the volcanic rock visible just below the surface. In the distance, trench whales were breaching. Phosphorescent algae attached themselves to the creatures, a glittering sideshow put on at night for Avonlea.

“Otto, I hope you’re not thinking of jumping,” a mysterious figure said.

“Goodness, Tobias! I have no need to jump. A scare like that will be the death of me,” Otto said.

Tobias didn’t dress like other wizards, the mayor often thought. What good was such a prestigious post if he wasn’t going to play the part? Instead, the man wore a white shirt, auburn leather pants and boots, a black overcoat and black gloves. He had gray hair, but for as long as the mayor had known him, Tobias never seemed to age.

“There’s no immediate danger as best I can tell,” Tobias said.

“This is a pressing matter. Given the stipend we pay you for guardianship, why must it take you so long to show yourself? If this had been another Kraken inside the harbor, the consequences would have been dire.”

“Always with the theatrics, Otto, but I do know of your present misfortune.”

“So, you know our city is sinking. Is it unavoidable to your wise eyes?”

“Your city is not sinking. The ocean rises.”

“Well, that’s good news indeed! Oceans rise and fall by the moon. See how easy it is for you to earn your keep. We have no need to be concerned.”

“I’m afraid you have much to worry about. By season’s end, the city will be immersed entirely, a relic of another time.”

“That’s foolish talk. For eight hundred years this city has been a beacon of hope — craftsmanship admired by land dwellers for centuries. We are self-sustained by the bounty of these waters, not a single storm or ardent wave able to topple the tallest building.”

“Not even a wizard is strong enough to control nature’s fury when she is in labor pains. The ocean will continue to rise whether you like it or not. The villages built upon the cliffs have survived much longer than Avonlea for good reason. Guide these people in your care to safety inland.”

“I don’t want your advice, Tobias. I want your help, of which you have none to offer.”

The mayor looked upward to gather comfort from the boundless blue skies. He turned back to further admonish Tobias, but the wizard had disappeared.

The following week the mayor promoted a new city engineer in order to build a wood scaffolding around the base of the buildings. An emergency supply of planks shipped from the mainland, using up most of the reserve treasury. The canals were still of great use to everyone for daily travel, but the allure of the walkways was gone, hidden beneath the pale charcoal hardwood and shallow water.

Aesthetics aside, the mayor assured everyone involved in the construction that it was temporary. Even though the water continued to rise, most buildings were reinforced with a concrete base that provided several feet of clearance. This was all a minor inconvenience, but it didn’t stop several families from leaving Avonlea. Those that stayed behind voiced their uncertainty. Tobias sat in the shadows of the mayor’s office after a tense council meeting.

“Change is difficult, is it not, Otto?” Tobias asked.

“You’re trespassing,” Otto said.

“I’m a part of this city as much as anyone. Guardians are granted unrestricted access. Have you discovered for yourself, yet, that those who remain only do so because they trust your judgment?”

“Good, they are faithful to Avonlea, and she will be faithful to them.”

“Enough of your frivolity!” Tobias shouted as he rose up from his chair. His voice echoed along the walls, subtle notes of frivolity, frivolity, frivolity, repeating by magic to make a point.

“What must I do, Tobias? These people have no hope elsewhere. Have you considered that’s why they stay? Avonlea is their home, as it was to their fathers and grandfathers before that. Who of them would want to part with the splendors of its architecture, or the sanctity of its presence?”

“Who of them would want to stay, knowing it would become their grave?”

“I’m releasing you from your duties as guardian to Avonlea. I don’t want to see you set foot in my city again.”

The mayor pulled out a parchment contract and a long needle from his desk drawer. He poked himself on the tip of his finger. A single drop of blood fell to the page. Tobias did the same and the contract burst into flames with not a hint of ash left behind. The wizard walked to the window, morphed into a buzzard, then flew away.

The ocean rose further, flooded the school and then several of the shops. The mayor issued a plea to the citizens to seek higher ground in second and third story dwellings. A number of families crowded together, trying to make sense of the slow demise of their town’s once majestic appeal.

Hundreds of side canals that were previously distinct passages, were now a part of a collective whole. Buildings poked their heads above the surface. Open windows were a series of mouths, gasping for air. Those with younger school aged children left since many of the teachers already departed.

Trench whales, distant honorary citizens of Avonlea, began intruding on the previously undiscovered cityscape. Sounds once offered as distant attractive lullabies were now an ever-present dirge all through the night. An infant of the species managed to trap itself inside a boat house, crying out for its mother. After several days it died of starvation, the stench of decay rising up and out, causing citizens to close their windows.

The mayor’s secretary was sent around in a boat. She tapped on windows and informed the remaining citizens to meet at the mayor’s palatial estate. They were instructed to gather up food and water. The city’s filtration system failed, and fresh water was in short supply. Together they would find residence and comradery, the last of those remaining being promised future positions of influence.

Several more families left, never sending their regrets to those staying behind. Eight families in total found themselves living on the top floor of the mayor’s estate. It was quite spacious, albeit not a bedroom. None of the bathrooms were in working order, so a bucket was requisitioned, and a corner curtained for privacy. They dumped the waste out the window.

Trying to convince themselves they were on the cusp of a reprieve, the families joked about a future when they would look back and laugh at their misfortune. The deserters were labeled fear mongers or naysayers. There would be no mercy if they returned. The city would be repopulated only with those containing the heart and willpower to sustain Avonlea forever. 

The last of that talk was gone when water trickled through the upper windows. The mayor decided it was in everyone’s best interest to rest up on the rooftop until further notice. A few days of sunshine could provide some opportunity for reflection and peace as the waters were sure to recede shortly.

Boredom gave way to anxiety, then anger and frustration directed at the mayor. Despondent citizens went on tirades when they realized none of the canal boats had been secured — a consequence of poor leadership. They were all going to drown, cursing the mayor with their final breath. At that moment a ship headed in their direction was spotted. Tobias.

The wizard tossed several ropes to the wayward souls. Their demeanor changed from frightful indignance to absolute relief. The mayor, though, stood in the corner of the roof, a petulant child waiting to be scolded.

“It seems you’re in need of rescue,” Tobias said.

Men and women cheered in chorus. They couldn’t climb the rope ladders fast enough, forgetting of course how they had maligned those already departed. When everyone was aboard, the mayor walked over begrudgingly.

“Do you want me to apologize?” Otto asked. “Because I’ll do no such thing. This must be the work of your dark magic hand. Trickery, so that you can take hold of Avonlea, our safe haven and solitude.”

“I’ve known blind men with greater foresight than you, Otto,” Tobias said while several men pulled up the ropes.

“Wait, just a minute! You have a sworn duty as a guardian to protect all citizens, regardless of your bias. I must be given passage,” Otto said.

“Do you have that in writing?”

“Fine, leave me here. I will build a better Avonlea, with my bare hands if I must, fortified with weapons. When you find yourself in these waters again, you will be attacked at the broadside by a cannonball!”

Otto watched as the ship disappeared into an approaching mist that soon overtook him. He sat, stuffed into his ceremonial garb, waves sloshing at the sides of the rooftop. A trench whale swam by slowly, vocalizing its uncertainty at the man’s presence.

When the water washed up under Otto, he stood, the fear of death taking hold. He decided his chances would be improved by attempting to swim toward land, no more than several days with the current to be sure.

The approaching Kraken had other plans.