Perusina, Perusino, and Franz in Sauce

Franz was the first to notice.

Not because he was particularly early awake. Franz was never particularly early awake. He had only accidentally rolled off the pier because Perusino had been juggling with a mango at breakfast.

"That was on purpose," said Perusino.

"By the mango?" asked Perusina.

Franz dripped onto the wooden planks of Laguna Azul and shook himself. "I want to report: The lake tastes funny."

Perusina knelt down at the edge. Before them lay the lagoon of Sauce. It should have been gleaming blue. So blue that the sky could live in it. But today, a grey-green streak stretched across the water, as if someone had painted into it with a dirty brush.

On the shore, children were collecting small wooden fish for a festival. Each wooden fish belonged to a boat. The cleanest boat was to receive the blue fish in the afternoon. But the most important wooden fish had disappeared: a small, brightly blue one with silver dots.

"The winner fish is gone!" cried a boy.

Perusino put the mango down. "That sounds like a case."

Franz sneezed. "And like lake water in my nose."

Perusina pointed to the grey-green streak. "That's connected."

They walked along the shore. Between reeds and boats lay plastic cups, a torn bag, and a thin, shiny trail on the water.

Perusina fished out a piece of packaging with a stick. It was sticky. Not like mud. More like oil.

"Who does something like that?" asked Perusino.

Then a boat creaked behind them.

The boy from the festival jumped in. "I'm looking for the fish out on the water!"

"Wait!" cried Perusina.

Too late. The boat pushed off from the pier and drifted out.

Perusino looked at Perusina. Perusina looked at Perusino. Franz looked at the mango.

"Not the mango," said Perusina.

A minute later, all three were in a second boat. Perusino rowed on the left, Perusina on the right, Franz sat in front like a very wet captain.

The wind pushed them across the lagoon. The water gurgled against the hull. The grey-green streak widened. Small bubbles rose.

"Up there!" cried Perusino.

Between two floating plants hung something blue. Perusina bent down and pulled out the wooden fish. It was smeared.

Franz sniffed. "Fish. Paint. Gasoline. And... fried food?"

"Gasoline?" asked the boy in the other boat.

Then an old engine rumbled on the shore.

A man stood next to a small storage area. Canisters, nets, broken life jackets, and trash bags lay there. A boat engine was running at idle, even though no one was in it.

Next to the engine, something dark was dripping into a shallow puddle. From there, it flowed across the ground towards the lagoon.

Perusina became completely silent.

"That's not a magic trail," she said. "That's dirt."

They rowed to the shore. The man was startled when he saw them. "I was going to clean that up later."

"Later is too late," said Perusina.

Perusino jumped out of the boat, slipped in the mud, and landed on his bottom. "I was going to do that later too."

Franz stood in front of the engine and growled as seriously as a little fox can growl.

The man looked at the puddle, then at the lagoon. Children from the festival came running. Two fishermen followed them. A woman brought a bucket of sand, another man a shovel. Together they stopped the drip, put sand around the puddle, and collected cups, bags, and packaging from the shore.

The boy held up the smeared wooden fish. "What about the competition?"

Perusina took a leaf and carefully wiped the fish. The blue reappeared. Not perfect. But visible.

"Today, the cleanest boat doesn't win," she said. "Today, the boat that helps clean up wins."

In the afternoon, all the boats slowly drove across Laguna Azul. Not as a race. As a search party. Children collected trash from the reeds. Fishermen showed where not to dock. The man with the engine apologized and brought a canister with a tight lid.

As the sun set lower, the lagoon turned blue again. Not everywhere. But enough that the sky cautiously reflected in it.

Franz lay on the pier, drying.

Perusino held up the mango. "To celebrate, I won't juggle."

"Very good," said Perusina.

The mango rolled anyway.

Franz opened an eye. "If it falls into the lake, you'll deal with it without me."