The Ledger of Small Excuses

Chapter 1: Fourteen Excuses and a Bottle

⟨Character 4⟩: Okay, one: my stomach feels weird. Two: my left shoe is full of evil energy. Three: there’s a mandatory nap shortage in the world and I am part of the solution. Four— ⟨Character 3⟩, stop filming the ceiling, you’re making it nervous. Five: there’s a bug going around. Six: there’s a bug coming tomorrow, so why not prepare. Seven: the bus driver looks at me weird. Eight: my teacher said I seem tired, so really I’m just following advice. Nine—

⟨Character 2⟩: You know, when I was a girl, we had one excuse. My stomach hurts. That was the whole menu. Your sister and you, you've turned it completely into a buffet of strange reasons. That’s why this counter never stays clean, isn’t it, because I wipe it and wipe it like it might someday become a completely different counter.

⟨Character 1⟩: And excuse number nine? I finished my toast, so I am free to listen now. Go on, I have a meeting at nine, but til then I have plenty of time to hear all fourteen. In my day we had no excuses. We just went. Also I had no scarf, but that is a story for another morning. Continue.

⟨Character 4⟩: Nine: the cloud is down. Ten: my homework is in the cloud. Eleven: the cloud is a dangerous place. Twelve: my gym shorts are haunted. Thirteen — wait, did I already say the bug one? Okay. Fourteen: the tide is wrong today.

⟨Character 3⟩: Fourteen. That’s a personal best. I’m uploading it. Title: boy invents new unit of time. Also the ceiling is not nervous, it’s bored, like me. And dad, please do not use the haunted shorts one again, that was worse than the bug one.

⟨Character 2⟩: Fourteen is a personal best. And the tide… the tide is wrong today. Hm. I don’t have a smart answer for that one. Alright, ⟨Character 1⟩, walk him down. If the sea is going to argue with him, let’s go hear it.

By the seawall, where the street ends and the sand begins.

⟨Character 4⟩: Actually, my bag is inside. Actually, I should check it. Actually, what if I forgot to pack the thing, the… the pointy one. For math. Look, the waves are coming from the wrong direction, so even the ocean agrees with me. Hello? Bad news, the ocean agrees with me.

⟨Character 1⟩: The ocean is coming toward us with something. Wait, sit, sit — it is not a crab. It looks like a book, actually. A big fat book, brass at the corners. It has your name on it, da. Your exact name. Tell me you did not lose a library book, ⟨Character 4⟩.

⟨Character 4⟩: I didn’t lose it. I’ve never had it. But it says ⟨Character 4⟩. In letters that look like shells glued down by someone very patient. I don’t remember this. I really don’t. I want to remember, and it’s like when I try to remember, it slips away and sits somewhere else.

Ludo: That is because this ledger was written before your morning, young one. It is overdue. It belongs to the Moonlit Archive, out past the reef, and moonset is the tide-turn. If it is not returned, the whole tide will tilt and stay tilted. So it must go back. I have hummed the water this flat specially for the occasion.

⟨Character 1⟩: May I ask a very boring question. If we take him out past the reef on a borrowed dinghy, is there some arrangement about the boat? Insurance? Waivers? Because if the tide tilts, the paperwork in my drawer is not going to be happy.

⟨Character 3⟩: Okay, but are you real? Genuinely. I’m not being rude, I’m asking for the video. Also, hi. I’m ⟨Character 3⟩. I keep score of my brother’s excuses. Today was fourteen.

Ludo: Forty-one thousand four hundred excuses, by my count, brother included. And yes, I have been called worse. Brave barnacle, whale-bird, large wave with opinions. But real is a small word. I am here, and the water agrees with me, so let us say real enough. ⟨Character 3⟩, you may ask me one question per league. That is the rule of the reef. ⟨Character 2⟩, the ledger is thanks to you, I think. It smells of tea towel. Very good. It traveled safely because it was wrapped.

⟨Character 4⟩: Okay. Okay, but I’m holding the ledger. And — I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve done the reading with my eyes closed. Fine. We should go. Before the moon goes down and the… the tilted tide thing. But first my mom has to pack the biscuits. This is not an excuse. This is breakfast. It’s extra biscuits.

⟨Character 2⟩: Two thermoses and all of the biscuits. Nobody in this family is leaving the good tea towel floating on the sea. Let’s go set a tide right, then.

Chapter 2: The Dinghy With the Cracked Blue Paint

The dinghy sat in the harbor with its blue paint cracked into little maps.

⟨Character 2⟩: Okay. Thermos in the middle. Biscuits up front where I can reach them, because I am not pretending I won’t reach them. Ledger goes in my good tea towel. And nobody sits on the tea towel, ⟨Character 1⟩, I mean it, that towel survived a wedding and two house moves. If the ocean wants it, the ocean can ask politely.

⟨Character 3⟩: Hang on, hang on, I need one good shot — this light is perfect — wait, wait, wait —

⟨Character 2⟩: ⟨Character 3⟩. Throw it. Let go. The ocean keeps what it keeps. You are not diving, you are not leaning, sit down, sit down, I have your sleeve and I am not letting go of your sleeve.

⟨Character 3⟩: I can see it. It’s sinking. It’s getting smaller. I keep wanting to reach for it and my arm doesn’t know what to do with itself. Also… mom, look down. Look at the water. It’s full of tiny lights. Like the stars spilled some. Are those jellyfish? They’re following the boat.

⟨Character 4⟩: Bio… bioluminescence, I think. Little glowing things, and on a moonlit night they’re supposed to be everywhere. Relax, ⟨Character 3⟩, your dead phone is now part of the show. Sorry, mum, I mean… the glowing show. Ledger’s safe. Ledger’s safe. That is my job tonight. I guard the ledger. I am the keeper.

Then the wind took the boat and the small calm began to spin. Ludo’s hum was swallowed whole.

⟨Character 1⟩: The ledger — it’s coming loose, it’s sliding, grab it — ⟨Character 4⟩! ⟨Character 4⟩, your hand!

⟨Character 4⟩: I caught it. I didn’t even look. It was slipping and I just… snagged it out of the air, like catching a fly but a big wet sleepy fly. Why do I know where it is? Why do I always know where it’s going to be? Okay, hands shaking now, that’s fine, that’s a normal thing to do.

⟨Character 2⟩: Everyone low and quiet. I have the tiller. The waves are pushing starboard, so I turn the bow. No arguing, and no standing, ⟨Character 1⟩, sit by the boys. I have got this. I have got this, and honestly, why does nobody ever say the ocean plans better than I do?

Pip: Hello! Hello, boat! Please do not wrench the tiller at the reef, it hurts the reef, and I am under strict instructions — oh, hello!

⟨Character 1⟩: There’s a small whale beside us. A calf, I think. It’s come to give us directions, and it should not be talking to boats. Sorry, little buddy, you probably shouldn’t be talking to us. Is this wrong? We feel like we’re in trouble.

Pip: Well, you are only a little bit in trouble. I’m Pip. I’m not supposed to talk to boats at all, and I’m not, actually, because you are not a boat, you are a dinghy. A dinghy with a crack in its paint. Follow the third reef gap, where the stones are like teeth — no, turn, turn, now! There. Now the wind goes quiet. See?

⟨Character 2⟩: The wind really did go quiet, like a held breath let go. My arms are tired. I am not going to lie, they are singing a song about being tired. Wait. ⟨Character 4⟩, the ledger is open. When did that happen? Do not close it.

⟨Character 4⟩: Every page has an excuse on it. And in different handwriting. Yours, mom, in the neat round letters. Yours, dad, in those long loopy ones. ⟨Character 3⟩’s, in the angry ones. And some of them are… mine. Some in my handwriting, some not. But they’re all stacked up here like trees. And this page, the last one, is blank. Not a scratch on it.

⟨Character 3⟩: So the blank page is for you. You know what that means, right? Done playing your turn — what do you write?

⟨Character 4⟩ looked at the empty page. Ludo had never asked for one excuse, just a straight return.

Chapter 3: The Moonlit Archive

A ring of standing stones grew out of the shallow water, each one sheltering a nest of ledgers like eggs in a shell.

Ludo: Here we are. Mind your feet on the weed, it is polish, not slime, and Quill polishes it himself. Tide-turn is near. The flat water will hold until the moon is down, if we are quick and gentle about it.

⟨Character 1⟩: No insurance talk. Nobody laugh. I carried that ledger for a league whilst nearly falling overboard, and I would like to see the fanciest book club in the world recognise that with one small muffin, then. Sorry. Nervous joke. Hull down, everybody wade.

Quill: Give it here, son. Slowly. There we are. Put that tea towel on the stones for it, no hurry. I am Quill. I am the watcher of excuses, and by my calendar you are eight days early, which has never happened. Let me just read the spine. Ah. Every second page is a stolen minute. Every twelfth page is a teacher’s sigh. Mm-hm.

⟨Character 3⟩: Wait, it reads them? It reads the excuses? Even the bug one? Okay, but shh, I want to hear them. I have kept score of these for years. Some are truly terrible and I would die defending them.

Quill: Every single excuse, whoever thought it up, right up to the cheek of “the cloud is down,” and I admit, that is a fresh one. Twelve thousand across this page alone; brother and sister share the same ink in more spots than not. Every one written because someone hoped to stay small. None of them worked. None anywhere ever has. There is only one page that is allowed to work, and it is this one.

⟨Character 4⟩: The blank one. It knows what I was hiding, before I knew. So what goes on it? Actual paper, actual pencil, or does it do that thing where you have to learn something first?

Quill: A pencil do come out? Beg your pardon. It is nine miles. Excuse ends? Look at your mum, that clean towel, but it ain't gonna happen without you. A statement holds, child, if it is honest make things quiet as harbour. Start with what work you put true; you do not need borrowed weather. Here. I stamp it with flat-shell, so when the sun warms, it tells itself back. For once the red stamp stays. Look at you! Morning may sleep as long you down all,

Chapter 4: The Last Excuse

Before dawn, ⟨Character 4⟩’s room was still blue with night. He put the sea-glass shard on his nightstand, set his alarm, and packed his bag.

⟨Character 4⟩: No excuses. There. That’s the whole list now. Clock’s set for seven. Bag’s by the door. The shard thinks it’s glowing at me, but I know all its tricks. And I know the biscuit’s in the front pocket of my bag, wrapped in a square cut from mom’s tea towel. No excuses. That went well. I said it. I’ll say it again after a nap.

⟨Character 1⟩: You went back out to the dinghy to get those. I saw you tip over the pool right and tip all that water. I have tea, second cup too. I’ve never actually gone. I mean, I’ve gone every day, but I never put any weight on it. So if it helps, I can write the school a note. Excuses is what come free; getting named in the bar ledger at first moonset feels heavy, it’s ordinary—A strong kid with real trouble in sleep pulled in his line and made the rounds. You want a still-warm plan? This bread war is all yours: how did last night be scented out of cold water. Whatever it says, they can add it to the tide forecast themselves.

⟨Character 4⟩: Okay, but what da most heartwarming one, I got only kept eight seconds of name into ledger’s belly in that bar—

Sunrise broke slow through a blank white shutter, and water at the jetty lay flat. Coming home, by boat number two, down the last corner with the others trailing in the bubble current. No roar. Just tide pulled, drawn turned around late. Not lying.

⟨Character 3⟩: Some bread near fresh by so square have learnt, actually reading left upside air? A day the counter was left clean by itself! Even the sunrise knows today’s picture fit, the stairs warm tea long someone’s even-handed touch air before me I was steady, ha. Don’t come help somebody. Morning began well anyway, school bags loaded, coast rebooked table. In five minute now the door open. Excu — no — boats had thought. Being: proper boat had a present themselves. Why if I say words, anybody will change boats?

⟨Character 2⟩: Here I’m the boy with early name burnt into ledger numbers ten starboard down by my boots pulled water clean saying nothing: not lying going everywhere. That one who always counting excuses: long; light still has the proof counted. By its table shell on each one said four know tide table by candle once been quiet. And that change raised went, those ones stay out numbered; the newest said no excuses sounding strange whole mouth round like foreign cousin: actual boot who hadn’t know laces ways were only wishes; our true business packed school sack sitting near top stair because school starts usual time again; nine minutes early according tick.

⟨Character 1⟩: Whole world by wall rows clean metal chairs each box tight closed milk when cracker bag straight; step aside make way at wind down flights turn in school gate lines drawn straight stones that were sea-long and names bell pause,” sweet,” not mine anymore maybe shared stack left heap center folded flaps labels breakfast stenciled little drawings drawn sail shapes: see why need counting excusing routine first early? Short lines what answer got smaller boats right after started,” of course just full and tide for once appropriate arrangement seat-belt sound tighten word click home lines, blankets sheets on ground said every single thing before summer month out. Time clock said ready. Actual soon someone was tired stretched room; doors heard parent their boxes hum made circles lantern each step keep turning slow there easy come spread silence room. Lucky stone there. Sleep well finish.

Wait!

⟨Character 4⟩: Does waking cold have hands night like morning when things tick at exactly plan friend turn small pieces whole row and over need hand squeeze shoulder right like sky opening low waves space loose; excuse door windows billowing set every curve our same shore let forget; full after keep once day slow bell sleeps when I wait little said early next table ours just name good rest what things shape gentle small allowed happily done. Happily done. There we are: steady far. Excuse left. Finished pattern through night what foot goes left and high sun doors out from last single reason and further all waiting names huge wet from trying new picture: even hurry board no. Ends. There ends finished sloop book in our ledger full finished ship. Day come, open, view with tied toe paint tables own this shape.