A Pledge Between Fish And Men

BY ROSS MIDDLETON

Daniel Carnen woke up trying to swing the legs he didnt have over to one side of the bed. His stumps caught in the folds of the blanket (as they always did, every morning for thirty years) and he struggled for a few minutes before giving up. He opened his goldflecked eyes to his ceiling, a patchwork white and brown. He sighed. Ought to paint that. There was much work to be done around Carnens house. The stove wheezed permanently like a warthog with asthma, smoke belching out and tarnishing the beams above. The floors were almost rotted through entirely due to the water: the planks that kept the house up in the air were as sturdy as ever but Carnen had resorted to thick sheets of plywood to bridge the more sunken areas of the ground. The TV was a nervous stainless steel grasshopper that flitted through channels with a static hum. No matter on that front-Carnen preferred his old wind up radio anyway. The paint was peeling offflecks would land in Carnens grey beard whenever the chair sideswiped a wall and he would curse loudly to no one in particular. Carnen pulled back the covers. The blankets showed the angry stumps beneath his knees, old and twisted like the warping wood in his house. He thought of the doctor then, the one with the large bald head rimmed all around with the light of the sun, saying dont worry, everything will be all right. Everything will be alright, he said with a voice so sad and soothing for such a grizzled looking man. His arms were tough from years of dragging around a large torso and he crawled readily from the yellow bed into that spindly chair of his. His body twisted like a dizzy earthworm and he flopped into the seat ass-first, his face looking out towards the window and the sea. Where did the land go? He peered through the window with the better eye. There seemed to be only grey water that stretched forever and bent like a bridled horse over that great curve of the world. Then again, that window had always been filthy from Day One. Carnen liked dirty windows, rotted floors, peeling paint. He was a lover of broken things. He reached out his hand to grab the wheel. A blue dolphin that danced in the curve made with his pointer finger and thumb gave a naive smile. Above the gleeful dipshit read the words, FEELING FISHY? in weathered black ink. No I dont feel fishy. Grow up: youre a mammal, act like one, said Carnen quite reasonably to his old fish tattoo. He gripped his hand on the thin black tread and pushed his elbows backwards, pushing the tires clockwise and slowly moving Carnen to the fishing rods. Midway through the room he stopped and span one tire clockwise and the other anti-clockwise, turning his face toward the rods. Besides his arms and his mind, Carnens rods were his best tools. One was fairly new, ten years old and still shiny red as always. The other had always been ancient and was slightly cracked from base to tip from too many escapee fish. Carnen sealed his lips together and considered the possibilities. After a few minutes he picked up the old rod gingerly, running his hands along the split in the side of the long dark wood. He smiled. Old was better, at least on a cold grey day like this. He leaned over-a feat in a wheelchair-and picked up the tackle box. The box was a grey and dismal thing, the handles gone red with rust. He placed the box on his lap and tucked the rod into his left armpit. Carnen looked the picture of the casual jouster, knocking men off their horses from the comfort of his chair. He wheeled out the door.

The house stood about twelve feet above the water on six thick stilts. From the outside the house looked even more ramshackle; the roof caved slightly in the middle, giving the dwelling a look of nervous apprehension. Carnen frowned. He could do something about this if he still had his legs. He could do a lot of things if he had legs. It was that pesky if that stopped him. The house had a outcrop, about seven to eight feet wide, where Carnen did his fishing. He moved to the ledge so that his toes jutted out over the landing and opened the tackle box. A lure that looked like a silver minnow caught his eye and his stomach rumbled mightily. He held his stomach and grimaced. That was not a good sign. Carnen had not eaten in four days. At first it had been on purpose, a cowardly notion that simply wasting away would be the best way to go. Carnen had nothing here to really satisfy him, nothing to do all day. Was his whole life to be spent staring at the bleak water dreaming of a world filled with the right decisions? But by the third night his body had taken over with a harrowing urgency. Like a rapacious army the hunger had stormed the labyrinth of his mind, taking hold of the corridors and making camp there permanently. The darkness was still there of course, scraping his horns against the walls and puffing noisily through his nose to get his attention, but as scary as the beast was the emptiness inside his stomach had a much greater sway. He grabbed the minnow with shaky hands and tied the lure onto the line. He cast out, the line snaking into the fog and disappearing into the sea. Carnen smiled as a thick line of sweat formed on his forehead. He had loved the sea and always she had loved him back. She had cared for him, taken him in as a governess would. He had fed on her, nourished by her salty crags and her scaly children, and she had treated him with every kindness. He supposed this was the greatest punishment a man could suffer, to be made to hate the thing he loves most. The governess had grown old and spiteful, the harbor cold and filmed with grease. The line tugged. He ignored it. Probably rocks, something. There were heavy rocks down there with long jagged edges that Carnen knew all about. He had considered throwing himself into the water to drown once or twice. It would be a sweet death, much like a reunion in many ways. But the thought of hitting a rock and dashing his body into red viscous matter to be gobbled up by lesser fish seemed too ugly a prospect. Also, his wheelchair kept getting stick in the ruts of the outcropping. The line tugged once more. This time the rod bent as well, the tip curving curiously towards the water. Carnen licked his lips in fevered delight. It could be of course a hallucination, bought on by the days without food. But if it wasntThe rod swooned suddenly downwards. Carnen gripped the handle before the whole object fell into the ocean and wound the line up furiously. It fought, and fought hard. The line cut through the water with an insane cadence and there were moments where Carnen thought the line would split. Then suddenly the fish breached the surface of the water and Carnen sat agape. The golden scales shone like damp fire against the dismal sky. The tail was gold like maidens hair. He wrenched the rod upwards and the fish came with it. It flopped on the deck as Carnen got on all hands and knees to pin the creature down. It was a massive animal, almost four and a half feet long and thick as an old trunk. Despite his age Carnen was quick in pulling the knife from his coat pocket, a rusty serrated number with rusted blood on the edges.

He edged the knife closer to the fishs throat. The eyes of the fish were green and muted like sea stones; the teeth were long and white, curved upwards from the bottom jaw until they tapered off near the nostril slits. Carnen grinned wildly. In his heart he still wanted to die but his body and its biological needs trumped Carnens depression. He held the knife in both hands and raised it above his head ready to strike downwards and end it all. Spare me, said a voice. Carnen loosened up and looked around for the voices owner. Nobody was around, as usual. Must be hearing things, Carnen thought. He raised the knife again. Please, spare me Carnen shook his head. Damn this mind of mine, he muttered, to make me look like such a fool! This time the fish lifted his head towards and spoke clearly. Spare me, and I will give you anything you ask. Carnen froze. His arms dropped lamely to his side, the knife rolling through his dazed fingers. He put his hands on the fish. Are youtalking? Yes, I speak. And I implore you, do not kill me. I have much to live for. Carnen gave a shout. He scrambled to the door of his house as fast as possible. He pointed a shaking hand in the face of the fish, the grey hairs on his arms standing up as he spoke. My God, you speak! How is that possible? The fish seemed disgruntled. Youve never met a talking fish before? No, of course not! The fish would have raised an eyebrow if it had any. Huh. Interesting. I thought all of you fisherman types had caught at least one of us. I mean, why else would fisherman not be scared of our vocal abilities in the stories and proceed right to the wishes? Well, I dont know nothing about stories and old fisherman but for me a talking fish is well, insane. Oh. The fish stopped flopping. Then Im sorry for scaring you. Please, dont kill me. Im not going to kill you said Carnen. He laughed. It doesnt matter if I killed you or not. The likelihood of this being real is unlikely. Whys that? said the golden fish. Because I havent eaten in a couple days and Im probably hallucinating right now. If Im seeing things this badly though Carnen put his back to the wall and sighed. I guess Im pretty close to death. Well, if youre starving, the fish ventured, you could always wish for more food. Or better yet, you could wish yourself away from this place. It seems bleak to say the least. Carnen stared ahead. I cant leave this place. Ive had too many bad memories, back where Im from. He turned his head. So youll grant me wishes, huh? The fish blinked. Yes. You get three wishes. That is, if you let me go. The fish gulped nervously. Carnen chuckled. Well, screw it. He crawled over to the fish. Well first off, Id like to have good luck for the rest of my life, however long that may be. Your first wish is granted. What is your next wish? A beautiful woman perhaps? Nah. She can be plain looking, as long as shes smart and knows how to cook. He paused and laughed. On top of a good cook make her a gymnast too. Thats my second wish for you. It is done. And the third wish?

Carnen thought for a while. The sea churned as he considered the possibilities. Finally he grinned, threw up his hands and said, How about some new legs, my fishy friend? Water sloshed out of the fishs nostrils. I will see that it is done. Now, if you dont mind? Fine, go. Just when I was starting to like you, Carnen grumbled. He slipped his palms under the fish and gave it a flip. The fish somersaulted into the water. It raised its head. Your wishes begin tomorrow, dear fisherman. Thank you, and enjoy. My name is Daniel, Carnen thought to himself as he fell asleep on the dock. Daniel Carnen woke up in his bed. He stared at the ceiling, patchy and faded. He sighed and felt a rumble in his stomach. Now Im definitely about to die of starvation. Serves me right, letting that fish go. He frowned, shook his head. Hell, did I even catch a fish in the first place? He swung his stumps to the side of the bed. He raised an eyebrow. At least I didnt get stuck in the damn sheets today. He grabbed the wheels of his chair and settled down in the seat. He wheeled himself over to the rods. The stove wasnt belching smoke as per usual. Odd, Carnen thought, but he didnt pay it any mind. The rods were there as always, red and black. Carnen picked up the black rod and the tackle box like he always did and wheeled out the door to the landing. He cast out his line and settled down in his seat. The sun came out of the clouds and the sea turned a beautiful shade of blue. Carnen smiled and lay back. Not a bad way to go, all things considered. The line tugged and he sat up. A fish already? He reeled it in quickly-it was heavy on the line. Carnen saw it in the water, pale and thick. He hoisted the line to find on the other end a large frozen turkey covered in Saran wrap. For a minute Carnen froze. He looked the turkey over. It seemed real enough, and from the looks of it the fowl hadnt suffered any damage from being in the sea. He cast again, and again the hook snagged on something. Carnen pulled out three jackets and a red dress, wet but otherwise in good condition. He shook his head in disbelief and kept casting. By the time the sun set Carnen had caught three chickens, a roast ham, a box of wine, a crate of Cheez Puffs, two pairs of shoes and a set of knives. Carnen couldnt believe his fortune. What the hell did I do to deserve this? he mumbled to himself, a grin on his face. Slowly he transported the items inside. He cooked one of the chickens inside the now operational stove and washed the meat down with Cheez Puffs and wine. He looked around. Was this a part of that wish? He dismissed it. That couldnt have been true-I mean, talking fish? Really? As he thought about it he looked around at his food, enough to last him to the end of the week at least. Seems pretty lucky to me, he thought. The T.V crackled and spun into life. The picture was black and white but still clear. The new was on, and a disheveled man with shock-white hair and bags under his eyes seemed to be the news anchor. Man, standards have really fallen for on the job dress code, thought Carnen. The man spoke. If youre just joining us here at WB93, a terrible tragedy has rocked our good Earth. The West Coast of America and the nations of Japan, North and South

Korea, as well as most of the islands in the Philippines, are gone. Carnen sat up in his seat, his food forgotten. Californias gone?, thought Carnen. He remembered it then as it was when he was young and blonde and generally ignorant of all of lifes potential suffering. He collected sea shells on the beach, went surfing with his friends. He had a car, a red Jaguar that he loved to death. All of that was before the war, before his accident. He sighed and scratched his head. These places are still mostly underwater following last nights major earthquake event, continued the news reporter, and this news station advises its listeners to either get to higher ground as soon as possible or head out to open water in whatever sort of makeshift raft or boat they can find. This is WB93 saying be safe out there, people. Carnen felt several emotions at once. He felt grateful to have not been there when the waves came: he would still be living there now if not for his handicap. Carnen had tired of the stares, the hushed whispers, and furtive looks over shoulders and constant waves of pity emanating from the people towering over him on stable legs. Here, out in the open sea, nobody looked down at him. So that brought in a sense a happiness, a petty glee attained by imagining the death of those who had treated him differently or had scorned him with words and name. But that pettiness washed away when he considered the other millions: the babies, the small girls with pigtails and stained shirts, the young men in suits too big for their shoulders and the elderly crumpled in grey chairs like his, all drowned and left to float in that blue twilight. Carnen went to bed with a full stomach and a heavy heart. Carnen woke up to a pounding noise and wailing seagulls. At first he thought the two related but then thought better of it: the seagulls were wailing outside his window but the pounding was farther away. Carnen got up from the bed (effortlessly, yet again) and pulled himself into the chair. He wheeled towards the door. The pounding noise appeared to be a frantic knock. Is there a person on the other side of that door, thought Carnen. He hadnt seen people in months, years even, yet here there was one banging on the door of his self-imposed island prison. He teased his beard to an acceptable roundness and slicked down the last remaining hairs on his head before opening the door. Outside was a woman, tall and pale. She was skinny with long fingers and dirty palms. Dark rings ran around bright green eyes; her hair was tied tight into a reddish-brown bun. She was wearing a faded green shirt and denim overalls that complemented her bony figure in the strangest way possible. She walked into the house as if she had lived there all her life. She had a grimace on her face that could cut a man to pieces and stomped around the house like a elephant on Ecstasy. She proceeded to root through Carnens things, throwing pots and pans at the walls and floor in her desperate searching. Carnen grinned. What a woman, this fish gave me. He buttoned up his shirt. Can I help you?, he finally said. She looked at him for the first time. She stared at him for a tense second and for a minute Carnen felt guilty to have disturbed her frantic passion. She spoke in a voice that seemed straightforward and slow, as if she was talking to a small child. Hello there. Is there anyone else with you? Carnen chuckled. Already with the baby talk? Sheesh, give me a little credit for living

out here by myself this whole time without dying. Its not like anybody else does. Youre alone? This time she was less coddling and more curious, studying his face like he was a mammoths frozen brain. He liked the way she looked at him. Yes, Im alone. And you did all this? Well yeah. Carnen shrugged. What else was I going to do, live in a dingy kayak my whole life? The girl nodded and relinquished a small smirk. Thats pretty impressive. Good job, old man. Do you have any food? Carnen gestured to the small fridge in the corner. I caught some turkey yesterday. We can eat that. Turkey? Where did you get a turkey? Washed up Carnen rolled over to the rods. The girl grimaced. That seems unsafe to eat. And its not like were close to a hospital if either one of us gets sick. Carnen raised an eyebrow. So what, youre just staying in my house now? I dont even know your name. Kaya. And yeah, Im staying with you because to be honest I have nowhere else to go. To reiterate, are you sure about this chicken? It came wrapped up and it wasnt wet when I unwrapped it. If it makes you nervous we can use some of the water we have and boil it. I have a de-salinator but it takes forever. She nodded. Sounds good, Mister? Daniel Carnen. Just call me Carnen, its easier. Easier than Daniel? Danny? Dan? Carnen shrugged and laughed. Whatever. Im flexible. Carnen picked up the black rod and the tackle box and rolled out the door. Im going to catch some fish. Kaya nodded. Okay. Ill cook the turkey. She paused and scratched the back of her head. Thanks for letting me stay here. Ive got some supplies in the raft you can use. Carnens eyes widened. Dont mention it. Youve got a raft? Yeah. I got a bunch of stuff before the water came. Most of its useless-I was hiding out in a hardware store-but theres some food, and fresh water too. Carnen nodded. Everythings useful when youre stuck out here. He peered out over the outcrop at the big yellow raft filled with paint, brushes, water bottles and, for some reason, Franks Red Hot Sauce. Why the sauce? he asked. I like it, so I figured I take some. Dont worry, Ive got enough water and army rations to last at least a month she added, seeing the look on Carnens face. Carnen shrugged and cast out. The sun was shining beautifully over the water as it did yesterday. Carnen thought about his new circumstances. He wasnt thinking about her in necessarily a carnal sense: he hadnt been with a lot of women before the accident and he certainly didnt get any action after he lost his legs. Carnen was more preoccupied with the notion that there was a person, a real honest-to-God human being in his small house cooking him turkey and sharing his water. It was strange to talk to somebody after being alone for so long. I didnt even ask her where she was from or if she lost anybody, he thought. The fish jumped for his bait like aquatic lemmings and Carnen ended up having to carry two buckets of fish on his lap. The door opened and Kaya walked out. She had washed

her face somewhat and had let her hair fall out of the bun. She was wearing the dress Carnen had pulled out of the ocean. He grimaced, even though inwardly he thought her beautiful. I pulled that dress out of the ocean, you know. Now it was Kayas turn to grimace. Well, thanks for telling me that after I put the thing on. Did you pull your clothes out of the sea? Nope. Carnen frowned. Actually these are the only clothes I have. Didnt really see any reason to change. Kaya laughed. God you men sure are disgusting. She kneeled down so she was eye level to Carnen. Here, let me wash your face at least. Carnen tilted his head away from the damp sponge in her hand but she persisted, dragging the clean yellow monstrosity across his beloved grime. She unbuttoned his leather jacket and started to clean his chest. Carnen saw the look of sadness in her eyes as she beheld the tangled mess of scars that crossed his chest, small reminders of a chaotic past. This is a military tattoo, right? Kaya pointed to the skull and crossed handguns etched on his left breast. Carnen sighed. Yes. I was in the Navy, a long time ago. Kaya nodded. My father had the same tattoo. He was in the Army for a long time. I suppose thats what made him so intense when it came to my training- As a gymnast? Kaya raised an eyebrow. How did you know that? Lucky guess. Kaya shrugged. At first I liked doing it-the way you can jump through the air and twist your body like some sort of art form. But, he was hard on me when I won and harder still when I lost and I eventually couldnt take it any more. Hes in Russia now. She took a deep breath. He probably doesnt even know Im alive. Sorry Its okay. She gestured with her eyes at his stumps. How did you She faltered and stared at the floor. Carnen nodded. Lose my legs? The accident happened two months before I was supposed to go back. He steeled himself for the story We were supposed to steer the destroyer through a safe channel created by our forces but the Captain, who was a squinty-eyed maniac with a blown out beard and a penchant for drinking and death decided to steer us towards one of the last enemy strongholds, an Island named the White by us sailors. The White? Strange thing to call an Island. I suppose it would sound strange to an outsider. We called it the White because so many sailors had perished there, either at the hands of the enemy or by the shards of jagged rocks. Seagulls came by the hundreds to pick their bones clean so the first thing one saw upon landing was the white feathers and the ivory bones strewn out all along the ground. A truly frightening sight to be sure. I was very young then, only twenty two, and filled with hatred towards the enemy. I was one of the first off the boat and I ran as fast as I could towards the tree line. I was soon lost in that dense jungle with only a few of my fellow soldiers right beside me. It was dark and quiet at first. The few soldiers and I walked carefully, trying to hear for

the enemy. The explosion came swiftly from above. The grenade fell right at my feet and I was lost in fire. I was unconscious, staring at the trees above me. Carnen sighed. I ended up in a hospital for three months and was released into civilian shortly after. I stayed at my parents house for a few years but I couldnt take the stares anymore. Nobody cared about what I, or any of us soldiers, had done for them. They only saw a cripple. So I went sailing around the islands for a while and found this house. Ive been living here ever since. Kaya blinked back tears. It must have been so lonely living here by yourself He rubbed his lips together. It was a lot like dying, being here in this watery expanse. It was the loneliest place in the world. But not any more. The sun went down on the two, and night wrapped two halves together into one.

Water surrounded Carnen when he woke. At first he struggled in blind terror but then realized he could in fact breathe. He stared around into the twilight of the sea. The gold fish swam next to him. It smiled a toothy grin. Hello, Daniel. Carnen opened his lips and found that he could speak. Where am I? How am I alive? Well, that would be me, helping out a bit. My powers have that ability. But why have you put me down here? And wheres Kaya? Carnen looked around frantically. Dont worry about her. Shes fine. In fact, both of you will be fine. She was easier to change than you were. Change? What do you mean change? The fish blinked. His voice was sonorous, booming lazily through the water. I take it you do not like change. Change can be frightening and most if not all people reject what is frightening to them. But change is like this great ocean, my world. Every drop of water around you is recycled: it lives and dies a thousand times and yet through all that change it is, unquestionably, fine. Carnen grew angry. Stop with the damn riddles! Whats going on? The fish laughed. You said you wanted new legs. Look down. Carnen looked and beheld himself changed. His old stumps were gone: now, flowing from his waist, protruded a long and beautiful tail. For the first time in a week words failed the old man. II dont deserve this. Who gets to say who is deserved what these days? Besides, it was the least I could do. Now, go to her. Test out the new tail. It took Carnen a few awkward tries but he soon floated across the dusky green space. Kaya was there, floating in the nude with her hair reaching out like underwater plants groping for the light. She chewed at her finger and smiled. I didnt think this would be how Id wake up this morning. Are you alright? Yes Im fine. She stared at the tail. He followed her eyes. Do you think Im a freak? No more than usual. She smiled. You looktransformed. Carnen smiled. I feel it. Lets go. She took his hand but he stopped.

Where should we go? She looked at his confused face and grinned. Everywhere Together they swam, into the grey-green darkness.