No Tower of Gold

The slick stone of the pier smelled. Dear god, it smelled bad. I had to swallow to keep the bile down. Fish were everywhere. Baskets, buckets, and ice-packed boxes laid haphazard all over the pier. It looked like everyone stepped off their boat and started cleaning fish wherever there was room, which left no room for us to get through.   "Dad, what are they doing? There should at least be a path down the middle for cargo and passengers to get through."   The splash of fish guts encroached from all sides, dangerously close to the travel trunk and my pants.   "Dad! This is chaos."  

  Voices called from all over the docks, out-of-tune singing burning in my ears. It was too much!   "Dad! The..."   He turned and stepped uncomfortably close. The maneuver engaged when he reached his limit, "Enough! Stop! Listen to yourself! Your inconvenience is of no consquence. There is no harm being done to you."   He repeated, in a calmer voice, "Stop. Listen. The voices summoning magic. They are mending sails and strengthening ropes. Listen. Re-appling the water seal on the barrels. This dock isn't for grand volumes of cargo, it is here for the fishing. We are intruding on their purpose."   I knew not to protest again lest I get a lecture on perspective. "I can't help but mess up."   "No, it is not a failure. Give yourself the grace and patience to learn."   The wheels on our travel chest barely managed over the cobblestone laid over the pier. I could still aim to keep fish guts off of our things. You should take of your property. And we no longer had the means to replace anything. It doesn't matter if I have to zig-zag across the pier to keep clean.   Dad reached the dockmaster's desk at the end of the pier, a dozen steps ahead of me. They were already signing papers when I leaned the chest down and sat on it. On the boat to the right, a man stood on the mast boom waving a curly wand. The fibers of the sail tightened and thickened. A box filled with ice and fish, far too heavy to lift, floated in front of a dock worker. I could see the white disk underneath, holding it aloft. Everywhere around us, magic was in use. The movement of everything looked more like a song or maybe a symphony. Damn, he was right.   The buildings East of the pier were all one story and made of drab stone. In the distance, only the church and town hall stood above the mass of houses and shops. Green lichens and moss grew in every crack. The overcast sky added a chill to the air.   "So, this is home now," with a sigh for good measure.   Dad looked out over the city, too. "Yes, there is no tower of gold in Etonia. But all that is gold does not glitter. Let's go."