Page 27 of Oceansong
Angie flinched at the thought of them imprisoned and made to suffer for human satisfaction. Still, she held her tongue.
“Do what you want. For all I care, they’re just a bunch of good-for-nothing fish.” Nick’s voice grew louder, carrying through the entire room. “We will not stand by and let them starve us out, run us into destitution, kill us slowly!”
Gross. Nick was even more sadistic than Angie thought. His confident proclamation ignited something in the workers, riling them. The dissonance of their blended words crashed into Angie’s ears like old family gatherings, where her parents, uncles, aunts, and grandparents tried to one-up each other by who could talk the loudest.
“Yes!” Another female dock worker exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “Where else are we going to get food? The grocery prices are insane now!”
“I’m killing more farm animals than I can raise so my family can have enough to eat!” Another worker’s strident voice pierced the room, and Angie startled.
“Not to mention, those fishes’ natural predators will also die out. And the fisheries will go out of business,” another chimed in. The room erupted into outrage, and Angie shrunk back, mind racing with endless convoluted thoughts. She wanted to counter them, but couldn’t find the words.
“They killed the mayor’s son! And the whole crew of theOdysseyand some ofCastaway!” another worker chimed in. “My friends were on that ship.”
The rabble wasn’t dying down, and finally, Bàba’s voice boomed over the rest. “Enough! And Nick, you’ve made your point.” He held up both hands, shaking his head in disdain. Nick’s mouth snapped shut, darting a furtive glance at Bàba. He appeared ashamed, if the man was capable of such a feeling. “Settle down, everyone. We will ration out what fish stocks we have left.” Another angered glance in Nick’s direction, and Nick shrunk back an inch.
Angie itched to speak, but she wanted to wait until Bàba finished.
“Yes, the mer have committed some unforgivable acts. We cannot let that slide. But, do not make any rash decisions without me.” Bàba took a deep breath. “In other news, as I said earlier, other ports are starting to feel the effects of sea life shortage, too. Namely, Anchorage, Ketchikan, Kodiak,and Kenai. The currents have also become rougher lately, and we must decrease the number of fishing boats we send out.”
“Right, because a lot are going out right now,” Eva grumbled from beside her, arms folded tight across her chest. “We barely have enough to eat as it is.”
“I know,” Angie said, voice soft, thinking.
“But the boats we do send will go further. So, they will be in less danger. And we may catch the mer before they are aware of where we’re going next.” Bàba turned his paper over. “They are obviously close to, if not equal to us in intelligence. They can strategize, organize.”
Angie looked out the window behind her. On a normal day, the sight of still, blue waters beneath a clear sky would have greeted her. Today, the waves appeared disarray, churning and splashing and entwining with each other, watery soldiers running amuck without orders to fall in line.
“Wait, I have an idea!” she called out, raising her hand.
“What idea could the new girl have? Just let us go. We’ll kill the mer if needed. They won’t get anywhere near the shore,” a stocky-framed dock worker grumbled, but loud enough for her to hear him. He stood with his arms folded over a bulging belly, his thick unruly eyebrows slanted downward, his wrinkles and salt and pepper hair standing out beneath the ceiling light’s yellow cast.
Angie’s eyelids twitched. She held seniority over many dock workers, and he was certainly aware she wasn’t new. The condescending smirk on his face, and the way he didn’t even face her when he spoke didn’t escape her.
She had always had a baby face and was the youngest in the family, and it happened far too often for her liking that someone older had brushed her off and treated her like she didn’t know what she was talking about.
Her face and neck flushed with heat. She was sick of being treated like this.
“Hey, boy.” Angie’s stare shot flying daggers at him, fists clenched. “First, I’m a woman, not a girl. Second–”
Ian cut her off. “How about I call you whatever I want? You don’t tell me what to–”
“Stop!” Bàba yelled. “Ian, you will not talk to her like that. Let her speak.”
“But–”
“She’s my daughter.” Bàba maintained an unwavering glare, as if daring Ian to challenge his decision.
Ian’s lips thinned, but he said no more. Angie stole a glance at Bàba.
“Beibei, please.” Bàba motioned for her to go ahead, his eyes soft andwarm when they faced her.
Angie’s breath hitched. He had never called her that at work. “Why don’t we catch some and study them? We could learn a lot about their speech patterns, their behavior. We should know our enemy, right?” They had so readily agreed to blindly slaughter the mer, and she had a strong feeling her suggestion wouldn’t be received well. Still, she had to try to buy Kaden some time. If they started killing them by the masses, the mer would never agree to peace. Couldn’t have Kaden killed before she found out what she needed from him. He was the only mer foolish enough to stick his head and body above water.
For a drawn-out moment, silence befell the room, and Angie looked to Eva, Bàba, and Nick.
Bàba regarded her, brow wrinkled – his expression when he was thinking of something.
Then the room erupted into boisterous, mocking laughter until Bàba slammed his fists down on the table, and once again, the room went silent.
