island.
By mid-day, they completed the fishing. Emily spent the rest of the day gutting and scaling the fish and packing them into salt. By now, she felt she knew each fish personally.
Emily sat on a chunk of styrofoam scraping scales with a piece of black obsidian. The first few times she nearly cut the fish in half, and her hand with it, the obsidian was so sharp. Marvin showed her how to shave the scales. “Just like shaving your legs,” he said, eying her with an uncomfortable amount of relish. She hadn’t stood in front of a mirror for days, but she knew the reflection wouldn’t be attractive.
Pearly white scales dotted her arms up to the elbows. A pile of offal steadily grew in front of her. She threw the denuded carcasses into a bin of red salt to preserve them. Their eyes bulged and stared back at her. The salt, red instead of white, looked like the fish had bled out in it.
Tiny insects and thick black flies swarmed her, biting her arms. The seawater had long since dried. Salt caked on her burning skin. She felt like a scratching post.
She reached a mechanical rhythm by mid-afternoon. She almost didn’t need to look at the fish. She spent that time lost in thought, wondering what happened to Lauren, wondering what RIN DWA meant, and wondering what would happen to her.
A shadow cut across the sand. She jumped around.
“You startled me.”
A small, dark man stood behind her. He didn’t wear a shirt. The skin of his chest had grown tight and tanned from exposure, a stark contrast to his white hair. His body was nothing but function, lean, wiry, and quick. He looked like he could survive alone. “Sorry, you finished yet?”
“I have one bucket done. You can take it.” She handed him a bin with two dozen fish in it. “What will you do with it now?”
“I take the fish out and hang them on the drying racks for three weeks. You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yes, just got in two nights ago.”
“I’m Sammy.” He didn’t offer his hand.
“I’m Emily. How long have you been here?”
Sammy didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “Have any of your party disappeared?”
Emily couldn’t hide her shock. She’d been thinking about Lauren all day. “How did you know about that?”
“Listen, Emily. It’s a dangerous island. People go missing and they don’t get found. Just take a piece of advice – don’t look for them.”
“What?”
“People who look for the disappeared soon disappear themselves. We’re not the only things on this island that want to survive.” He picked up the bin and started to walk away.
“Wait,” Emily started after him. “Wait, you can’t tell me that and walk away. What are you talking about? What kinds of ‘things’?”
“Let me put it this way, have you wondered why the Wall is made of salt? Have you wondered why we only fish and work and live on the lava flows?”
She stared at him, blank faced. “We live on the sand,” she added blankly. She wondered, but she didn’t have the answers. He started to walk away but turned to her again.
“One more thing. Did you notice how Tuk served you ribs the first night?”
“Those ribs! So good! I can’t wait till they serve it again.”
“I wouldn’t be so eager. In fact, I’d be asking myself where they come from. There are no large animals on the island. The only animals we catch are fish.”
“Big…fish?” she guessed, but he was already walking away.
Alone again on the lava slope, scraping the scales off fish with a sharp rock, her mind went in a loop. The boat, Howie, Lauren, rin dwa , the dead body, the fish, the ribs. She turned them all over and then started again.
She couldn’t get that body out of her mind. Abstractly, she knew people had died in the sinking, but she hadn’t actually seen any of them. She’d only seen survivors, been a survivor. Now it was beginning to hit her. Max’s wife and daughter didn’t make it. That woman in red, Bailey, she wasn’t here either. Out of
By mid-day, they completed the fishing. Emily spent the rest of the day gutting and scaling the fish and packing them into salt. By now, she felt she knew each fish personally.
Emily sat on a chunk of styrofoam scraping scales with a piece of black obsidian. The first few times she nearly cut the fish in half, and her hand with it, the obsidian was so sharp. Marvin showed her how to shave the scales. “Just like shaving your legs,” he said, eying her with an uncomfortable amount of relish. She hadn’t stood in front of a mirror for days, but she knew the reflection wouldn’t be attractive.
Pearly white scales dotted her arms up to the elbows. A pile of offal steadily grew in front of her. She threw the denuded carcasses into a bin of red salt to preserve them. Their eyes bulged and stared back at her. The salt, red instead of white, looked like the fish had bled out in it.
Tiny insects and thick black flies swarmed her, biting her arms. The seawater had long since dried. Salt caked on her burning skin. She felt like a scratching post.
She reached a mechanical rhythm by mid-afternoon. She almost didn’t need to look at the fish. She spent that time lost in thought, wondering what happened to Lauren, wondering what RIN DWA meant, and wondering what would happen to her.
A shadow cut across the sand. She jumped around.
“You startled me.”
A small, dark man stood behind her. He didn’t wear a shirt. The skin of his chest had grown tight and tanned from exposure, a stark contrast to his white hair. His body was nothing but function, lean, wiry, and quick. He looked like he could survive alone. “Sorry, you finished yet?”
“I have one bucket done. You can take it.” She handed him a bin with two dozen fish in it. “What will you do with it now?”
“I take the fish out and hang them on the drying racks for three weeks. You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yes, just got in two nights ago.”
“I’m Sammy.” He didn’t offer his hand.
“I’m Emily. How long have you been here?”
Sammy didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “Have any of your party disappeared?”
Emily couldn’t hide her shock. She’d been thinking about Lauren all day. “How did you know about that?”
“Listen, Emily. It’s a dangerous island. People go missing and they don’t get found. Just take a piece of advice – don’t look for them.”
“What?”
“People who look for the disappeared soon disappear themselves. We’re not the only things on this island that want to survive.” He picked up the bin and started to walk away.
“Wait,” Emily started after him. “Wait, you can’t tell me that and walk away. What are you talking about? What kinds of ‘things’?”
“Let me put it this way, have you wondered why the Wall is made of salt? Have you wondered why we only fish and work and live on the lava flows?”
She stared at him, blank faced. “We live on the sand,” she added blankly. She wondered, but she didn’t have the answers. He started to walk away but turned to her again.
“One more thing. Did you notice how Tuk served you ribs the first night?”
“Those ribs! So good! I can’t wait till they serve it again.”
“I wouldn’t be so eager. In fact, I’d be asking myself where they come from. There are no large animals on the island. The only animals we catch are fish.”
“Big…fish?” she guessed, but he was already walking away.
Alone again on the lava slope, scraping the scales off fish with a sharp rock, her mind went in a loop. The boat, Howie, Lauren, rin dwa , the dead body, the fish, the ribs. She turned them all over and then started again.
She couldn’t get that body out of her mind. Abstractly, she knew people had died in the sinking, but she hadn’t actually seen any of them. She’d only seen survivors, been a survivor. Now it was beginning to hit her. Max’s wife and daughter didn’t make it. That woman in red, Bailey, she wasn’t here either. Out of
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