Page 35 of Oceansong
Salmon jerky was noticeably missing. Bàba always loved a serving in the morning before the fish had disappeared. Angie had a taste for it herself, but after what Kaden had sneered about how humans treated marine life, she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to eat seafood again.
Bàba fixed her with a glare like cold steel. “Beibei, is there somethinghappening I should know about?” His voice took on a hard edge, and she stopped chewing her bite of toast.
Angie knew where the pointed comment came from. She and Mia were rambunctious as teenagers, missing curfew numerous times to be with their friends, and Bàba had taken it upon himself to punish them, by grounding them or worse, locked outside the house for every hour they missed curfew by. Then at sixteen, he’d caught her sneaking alcohol because her friends were drinking after a school dance. His quiet disappointment when he found out was enough to keep her from alcohol again until she was twenty-two and found out Mama had passed. He never yelled. He never had to.
Bàba was in his late fifties now, and even with deeper wrinkles around his brown eyes and more gray hairs, he wasn’t any less intimidating when he glared at her like she’d done something horribly wrong. Even now, the hardened look on his face resulted in instant obedience. A trait that Angie both envied and feared.
And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Kaden.
She swallowed, moisturizing her dry throat. “I-I’m just stressed, Bàba. There’s always so much work to do.” She forced down a chunk of sausage, smooth and firm and rich on her tongue, and wished she could savor each bite.
Bàba grunted and polished off his own plate.
“Have we lost anyone else?” she asked.
“Not since Elise and Abigail.” Bàba shifted his weight in his chair, visibly uncomfortable. “I’ve been talking to some friends in Sitka and Whittier, and I’ve talked to Beau and Emily about this too. They also cannot make enough catches and worry about losing their livelihoods, feeding their people. If only we knew where the mer were coming from. We need to strike where they live.” He shook his head sadly and moved to the sink to wash his dishes and ceramic tea mug.
Angie hung her head, thinking the same. They could be anywhere in the mysterious sea, the least-explored place on Earth.
“But I have to go to work. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, Bàba.”
Half a sausage and toast remained on her plate, and she resolved to eat it. After all, there were people starving in her village, and she’d be damned if she didn’t at least give it her best effort to finish her food. She’d need the strength to recover and return to the docks. There were fish that needed to be found.
She was supposed to meet Kaden tomorrow, but she wasn’t sure if thatwould happen.
The guilt that previously jabbed at her now swallowed her whole.
“I brought you soup,” Mia said. The evening came quicker after spending most of the day sleeping. Mia and Rosie made a surprise visit, Mia with a small container of creamy and salty roasted carrot and potato soup. “There’s not much, but we can share.”
Angie lay stretched out on the couch, finding comfort in front of the fireplace, her thick, childhood fuzzy blanket wrapped around her. Where it once bundled her up like a cocoon, now it only covered her torso down to her ankles, but she didn’t mind.
Across from her, Lulu prepared to pounce, watching one of Rosie’s bracelets. Angie let out a loud, sharp hiss of air, and Lulu backed down. The cat pawed at the end of the bracelet dangling from Rosie’s small wrist, tilting her head to study it. With big questioning eyes, Rosie looked up to Angie.
“It’s okay. She won’t scratch.” Angie sat up and reached for the soup bowl in front of her, taking a ginger sip.
Lulu lost interest and galloped to Angie before hopping on her lap, curling into a fuzzy ball, contented purrs sent soothing vibrations down the tops of her thighs.
“How are you feeling?” Mia sat on the couch angled by Angie’s feet.
“I’ve had better days. But this soup is amazing, thank you, jiejie.” The warmth and salt coated her insides and filled her with deep relief, however fleeting it would be. One nostril unblocked, and she took in the aromatic steam with notes of ginger and thyme. “Where’s Nick?”
“I asked him and a few of the boys and girls to stay late. Make sure the docks are cleaned up,” Bàba interrupted, walking in and sitting across from Mia, who quirked an eyebrow.
“What were they cleaning?” Angie held her shoulders rigid, anticipating his answer.
“Mm. This I want to hear, too.” Mia reached for a butter cracker topped with a slice of reindeer sausage and smoky pepper jack cheese from the charcuterie board on the living room table. There were four slices of meat and cheese on the table accompanied by eight crackers, less than they normally set out. Angie watched them in envy. When her appetite returned, she vowed to eat an entire tray if there was an entire tray to be had by then.
Rosie nibbled a cracker, sitting on the floor next to Mia’s chair. Bàba left to refill his whiskey glass. Seeing the whiskey gave Angie an idea, and she walked to the kitchen to whip herself up a hot toddy. She followed Bàba back to the living room, and she and Mia turned their ears to him.
“We found traps buried in sand by the shore. Some of our workers were caught, leg traps, tripwires, even quicksand, which I don’t understand how that’s happening. Two of them escaped, thankfully, but Paul Bay didn’t make it. Dragged underwater before we got to him.”
“Paul, the maintenance worker?” The glass stopped before it reached Angie’s lips.
“Yes.” Bàba sipped his whiskey, his expression vacant. He looked at the charcuterie board for the second time that evening, but still, he didn’t touch it. “Now we will need to find somebody else for the job. But who will want it?” Bàba dropped his head back against the armchair.
Angie wasn’t about to volunteer for that.
