Welcome to the first post from "Glucose". The name is tentative until we receive a sizeable feedback from all members of the group.
Our set-up is very simple. One member provides a jump-off point, be it a quotation, a song, a word, an image. Anything. From there, every writer submits a form of writing inspired by the idea, whatever it is, that was submitted to the group.
Our first submission to the group was "firefighter, fish, dice". A writing that was inspired by one, two or all three of those words.
Below are the results.
We hope you enjoy.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Josh Beane
I was once asked
"How would you feel
as a fish, drowning in a
barrel of red wine"
with such an awkward pondering
I was too quick to reply
with an honest,
"Oh, the life."
"How would you feel
as a fish, drowning in a
barrel of red wine"
with such an awkward pondering
I was too quick to reply
with an honest,
"Oh, the life."
Sarah Henderson
Drinking From an Empty Cup
What was the point of computers before the internet? Without it, I don’t see any point in owning a computer. It’d be like wine without alcohol, tastes nice, looks pretty, but what’s the point? I’m not a big fan of huge parties, especially the get drunk, vomit, and drink some more kind, but I can’t deny that I throughly enjoy drinking just enough to forget that my life sucks and I still have to go back in the morning. I can say the same about computers. I could pretend that I’m an eco-hippie and say that it’s totally not worth it to spend your time plugged into a giant infrastructure that only supports “the man,” but screw it, I’m addicted. One day without checking my e-mail and I’m spazzing like an addict. My mind races with all of the possibilities, what am I missing? And then you get on and there’s nothing but Border’s 40% off coupons and my subscription to this American life, makes you feel unimportant, you know? ...........
Silence.
Yeah, guess I said too much.
Maybe we should go back inside.
Good idea....want another drink?
Um, yeah, Shawn’s over there, I haven’t seen him in forever, I’ll be right back ok?
This is what 26 is like. Where I’m the only single one. A constant stream of friends of friends. Dating. Bars. Another new restaurant. One more chance to realize that my soul mate doesn’t exist and I will spend the rest of my life searching and dying just a little bit more inside. Sorry, I tend to be just a little melodramatic. Neurotic I guess. Though it’s hard not to be when every other month I’m getting yet another wedding invite. Which I have to go to alone. Again. Of course, I can always go with coffee guy Joe’s best friend’s girlfriend’s friend. Who is single, cute, and funny. Just like every friend of a friend. I guess it’s better than showing up alone. Excuse me if I don’t sound enthused. I just always thought I wouldn’t spend this much of my life alone. It’s not that I mind being alone. I really don’t. Honestly.
Ok, maybe I do a little bit. I like being alone. Reading, watching tv, jogging, these are just a few of my favorite things.... and they’re all great alone. It’s just at the end of the day, I get in bed, roll over, and there’s no one there. It’s not sex (or the lack thereof) that bothers me. But the belonging. Life should be more than just going to work, drinking it off, and doing it again in the morning. Ok, it should be clear by now that I’m a little bit of a dork. Which would explain the results of my dates. All because of a fear of fish. Not my fear, I’m not that neurotic. It was never my fear, but now I can’t get over it.
Fish just sit there. Staring at you. It’s really creepy. Yeah, Finding Nemo was cute, but think about it, they just swim around, slimy and freaky looking. And then, they stare. Even when they die, they stare. I can still remember this fish from this Chinese place. It was this giant thing that still had eyes. The whole time my dad was eating it, it was just staring at me. Dead, being eaten, and it was staring. That shouldn’t be allowed. Congress needs to act. Immediately. Again, I’m not some vegan hippie, but seriously.....food that stares at you? No way man. I mean, fish still look like fish when you’re eating them. Chicken looks like chicken, but not a chicken. Yeah, not my fear. At least, it didn’t use to be.
You don’t believe in God? How is that possible? How could you go walking around every day and not think there’s anything more to this than beer, food, sex, and sleep?
I don’t think I need to mention how that one ended.
I’m reasonably cute. I’m a little tall for my age, but apparently that’s not so much an issue when you’re out of middle school. I don’t have any cats, wear sweat pants, or even knit. Ok, maybe that last one is a lie. But only because Julia Roberts made it cool for all of five seconds. I know...that makes it worse. I’m not intelligent enough to be intimidating, not dumb enough to be appalling. Just your average mediocre person. Still in school... still have no money...still spend it on cheap bottles of wine, peanut butter and ramen. No longer get wasted every night...no longer bum money off my dad (just the government)...no longer know what I want to do when I grow up. I admit I’m a little too mediocre.
As far as I’m concerned, my most redeeming quality is that I care. My day doesn’t circle around the aforementioned beer, food, sex, and sleep (maybe I don’t get enough of any of these). I like to be nice to people. I want to be a good person. Someday.
Is that you?
Chris? Oh my God, How are you?
What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in forever, not since I left school.
I know, it’s great to see you, I’m still in school, three more years and I’ll be done. Can’t seem to get it out of my system. What about you? How are things?
Pretty good, I’m working in Wellington now, I’ve got this place right by the beach. You should come by and see it, it’s amazing. What are you doing down here anyway?
No classes this week, so I just wanted to get out of there. Shake some of it out of my head, six years is a long time.
I know what you mean. I’ve missed it though, and everyone. Listen, I’m done for the day, want to go grab coffee or something?
Um, I’ve got this thing...I should get going, but you know, call me sometime. Next time, we’ll go out, definitely.
So it was me. That time at least. Well, maybe more than that. I said I was normal. Maybe I lied. I just can’t shake it. It’s like those fish eyes staring. They don’t stop. They don’t leave. I don’t know how to get it out. Not even a friend of a friend. But a real friend. Maybe it’s just an excuse that they all end badly.
At least it’s funny. Nothing entertains my friends more than one of my dates. They aren’t even that bad. Not like the movies or anything. I’ve never done anything SNL bad. Just one small disaster after another. Nothing to cry over. Just spilled wine, a couple ill passes, and the constant stream of babble that spills out of my mouth. Usually when someone compares you to an actress it’s a good thing. I get compared to Elliot. You know, from Scrubs. The overly neurotic one. I guess that would explain why my non-sweatpant wearing, non-cat owning, non-knitting personality doesn’t get me very far.
Seriously though, if anyone is interested based on those points alone, you’ve got problems. Like see a therapist problems....
And this is why I have bad dates.
No, I’m not going to sleep with you.
Why not?
Many reasons. I barely know you, I don’t do things like that, and I’m going home. It’s a much longer list, but I’ll leave it at that.
Why? You know you want to.
Yeah, um, you know, I have this friend who’d do it, want her number?
Seriously?
Yup.
Yeah.
Every time I meet someone new, it’s the same thing. They can be perfectly nice, perfectly cute, perfectly nasty, perfectly mean. Take your pick. I react the same way. It’s like I want to ask them, are you afraid of fish? Of course, they never are. I mean, who in the world is afraid of fish? Well, aside from me... and...never mind that. It’s a stupid question.
So how was your date?
Eh....he was a douche. He took one look at me and was like, I have a bed...it’s clean...want to?
You’re too picky. So what did you do, leave early? Poor guy.
Shut up.
You did, you’re such a tease, no wonder no one can stand you for more than 5 minutes.
I gave him Melissa’s number.
Shut up.
I mean...I feel bad about it. Sort of.
Well did they?
Yeah....
You’re an ass.
I know.
He’s not coming back.....
I know.
I’m going to tell you this once...just because you’re my friend and I love you....No one can stop death....Get over it and get over yourself....Everyone’s sick of you.
I know.
Six years is apparently a long time.
They tell me it’s long enough to get over fears...especially acquired fears....and most especially acquired inane fears.
We’ll see.
What was the point of computers before the internet? Without it, I don’t see any point in owning a computer. It’d be like wine without alcohol, tastes nice, looks pretty, but what’s the point? I’m not a big fan of huge parties, especially the get drunk, vomit, and drink some more kind, but I can’t deny that I throughly enjoy drinking just enough to forget that my life sucks and I still have to go back in the morning. I can say the same about computers. I could pretend that I’m an eco-hippie and say that it’s totally not worth it to spend your time plugged into a giant infrastructure that only supports “the man,” but screw it, I’m addicted. One day without checking my e-mail and I’m spazzing like an addict. My mind races with all of the possibilities, what am I missing? And then you get on and there’s nothing but Border’s 40% off coupons and my subscription to this American life, makes you feel unimportant, you know? ...........
Silence.
Yeah, guess I said too much.
Maybe we should go back inside.
Good idea....want another drink?
Um, yeah, Shawn’s over there, I haven’t seen him in forever, I’ll be right back ok?
This is what 26 is like. Where I’m the only single one. A constant stream of friends of friends. Dating. Bars. Another new restaurant. One more chance to realize that my soul mate doesn’t exist and I will spend the rest of my life searching and dying just a little bit more inside. Sorry, I tend to be just a little melodramatic. Neurotic I guess. Though it’s hard not to be when every other month I’m getting yet another wedding invite. Which I have to go to alone. Again. Of course, I can always go with coffee guy Joe’s best friend’s girlfriend’s friend. Who is single, cute, and funny. Just like every friend of a friend. I guess it’s better than showing up alone. Excuse me if I don’t sound enthused. I just always thought I wouldn’t spend this much of my life alone. It’s not that I mind being alone. I really don’t. Honestly.
Ok, maybe I do a little bit. I like being alone. Reading, watching tv, jogging, these are just a few of my favorite things.... and they’re all great alone. It’s just at the end of the day, I get in bed, roll over, and there’s no one there. It’s not sex (or the lack thereof) that bothers me. But the belonging. Life should be more than just going to work, drinking it off, and doing it again in the morning. Ok, it should be clear by now that I’m a little bit of a dork. Which would explain the results of my dates. All because of a fear of fish. Not my fear, I’m not that neurotic. It was never my fear, but now I can’t get over it.
Fish just sit there. Staring at you. It’s really creepy. Yeah, Finding Nemo was cute, but think about it, they just swim around, slimy and freaky looking. And then, they stare. Even when they die, they stare. I can still remember this fish from this Chinese place. It was this giant thing that still had eyes. The whole time my dad was eating it, it was just staring at me. Dead, being eaten, and it was staring. That shouldn’t be allowed. Congress needs to act. Immediately. Again, I’m not some vegan hippie, but seriously.....food that stares at you? No way man. I mean, fish still look like fish when you’re eating them. Chicken looks like chicken, but not a chicken. Yeah, not my fear. At least, it didn’t use to be.
You don’t believe in God? How is that possible? How could you go walking around every day and not think there’s anything more to this than beer, food, sex, and sleep?
I don’t think I need to mention how that one ended.
I’m reasonably cute. I’m a little tall for my age, but apparently that’s not so much an issue when you’re out of middle school. I don’t have any cats, wear sweat pants, or even knit. Ok, maybe that last one is a lie. But only because Julia Roberts made it cool for all of five seconds. I know...that makes it worse. I’m not intelligent enough to be intimidating, not dumb enough to be appalling. Just your average mediocre person. Still in school... still have no money...still spend it on cheap bottles of wine, peanut butter and ramen. No longer get wasted every night...no longer bum money off my dad (just the government)...no longer know what I want to do when I grow up. I admit I’m a little too mediocre.
As far as I’m concerned, my most redeeming quality is that I care. My day doesn’t circle around the aforementioned beer, food, sex, and sleep (maybe I don’t get enough of any of these). I like to be nice to people. I want to be a good person. Someday.
Is that you?
Chris? Oh my God, How are you?
What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in forever, not since I left school.
I know, it’s great to see you, I’m still in school, three more years and I’ll be done. Can’t seem to get it out of my system. What about you? How are things?
Pretty good, I’m working in Wellington now, I’ve got this place right by the beach. You should come by and see it, it’s amazing. What are you doing down here anyway?
No classes this week, so I just wanted to get out of there. Shake some of it out of my head, six years is a long time.
I know what you mean. I’ve missed it though, and everyone. Listen, I’m done for the day, want to go grab coffee or something?
Um, I’ve got this thing...I should get going, but you know, call me sometime. Next time, we’ll go out, definitely.
So it was me. That time at least. Well, maybe more than that. I said I was normal. Maybe I lied. I just can’t shake it. It’s like those fish eyes staring. They don’t stop. They don’t leave. I don’t know how to get it out. Not even a friend of a friend. But a real friend. Maybe it’s just an excuse that they all end badly.
At least it’s funny. Nothing entertains my friends more than one of my dates. They aren’t even that bad. Not like the movies or anything. I’ve never done anything SNL bad. Just one small disaster after another. Nothing to cry over. Just spilled wine, a couple ill passes, and the constant stream of babble that spills out of my mouth. Usually when someone compares you to an actress it’s a good thing. I get compared to Elliot. You know, from Scrubs. The overly neurotic one. I guess that would explain why my non-sweatpant wearing, non-cat owning, non-knitting personality doesn’t get me very far.
Seriously though, if anyone is interested based on those points alone, you’ve got problems. Like see a therapist problems....
And this is why I have bad dates.
No, I’m not going to sleep with you.
Why not?
Many reasons. I barely know you, I don’t do things like that, and I’m going home. It’s a much longer list, but I’ll leave it at that.
Why? You know you want to.
Yeah, um, you know, I have this friend who’d do it, want her number?
Seriously?
Yup.
Yeah.
Every time I meet someone new, it’s the same thing. They can be perfectly nice, perfectly cute, perfectly nasty, perfectly mean. Take your pick. I react the same way. It’s like I want to ask them, are you afraid of fish? Of course, they never are. I mean, who in the world is afraid of fish? Well, aside from me... and...never mind that. It’s a stupid question.
So how was your date?
Eh....he was a douche. He took one look at me and was like, I have a bed...it’s clean...want to?
You’re too picky. So what did you do, leave early? Poor guy.
Shut up.
You did, you’re such a tease, no wonder no one can stand you for more than 5 minutes.
I gave him Melissa’s number.
Shut up.
I mean...I feel bad about it. Sort of.
Well did they?
Yeah....
You’re an ass.
I know.
He’s not coming back.....
I know.
I’m going to tell you this once...just because you’re my friend and I love you....No one can stop death....Get over it and get over yourself....Everyone’s sick of you.
I know.
Six years is apparently a long time.
They tell me it’s long enough to get over fears...especially acquired fears....and most especially acquired inane fears.
We’ll see.
Donald Quist
The Goon
<><
1.
“F-fish,” the bartender coughs into his tiny hands. “Yeah, I know ‘em. Met him a few years ago on the day Buddha died, during a celebration for the gathering of the 500 monks. Said he was coming into town from Pataya. Fish’s a goon, got wrinkles in his neck as deep as gills and knuckles as tough as barnacles. Fish, he’s built to take out the trash, you know what I’m mean? I’m saying if you need a job done you call Fish.”
“…”
“Well no, I’ve never required Fish’s services. I’m just saying is all, I know him. Comes in her regular, gets piss drunk and starts blabbing to anyone who’ll listen. And I mean blabbing, EVERYTHING, his entire life story, every nasty job he’s ever done. I knew your type would be showing up here asking questions, eventually.”
“…”
“If you mind me asking, what is all this about?”
“…”
“I see, so, look how bout you ask me what you really want to know and I’ll get back to tending bar. Where is Fish?”
“…”
“I don’t know where Fish is, but I know he likes to gamble; spends a lot of time downtown, at the fights. In fact he owed a few loan sharks so much money he started working for them to pay off the debt. Cause of his size you know, big guy, good for breaking legs. Yup, you’ll probably find Fish up in the nose bleeds taking bets. Ask around, somebody there has seen ‘em.”
“…”
“There’s this girl, a round card girl, named… What was it now? Man, a guy was in here just asking me about her the other day… Kunshrii, that’s it, Kunshrii Plaloma. She’s half Chinese, real pretty, real young. Long legs, smooth and shiny. Chatty too, a little too chatty. She never really knows when to shut the hell up, always squeakin. Fish brought her around here a few times.”
“…”
“She nurses his wounds if the price is right, or at least that’s what I figure. What else would a girl like that want with a guy like Fish, I can’t understand otherwise,” the bartender explains. He looks at his watch and taps the bar, climbs down from his stool and says, “Right, so I guess you should get going, you’ve got Fish to catch, ay?”
“…”
“No problem, just doing my civic duty, you know, as a concerned citizen and all that. I don’t think it’s right for people to just go around killing government officials. I mean, I’m not a fan of Thaksin but it’s not okay to go around shooting friends of the Prime Minister, even during a coup.”
“…”
“Yeah, I hear ya. And look, if I could offer my opinion…”
“…”
“Fish is a lot of things, but he ain’t no killer. It’s just not in him; he doesn’t got the nerve for it.”
“…”
“Right, good day to you too Captain Hang.”
2.
“You don’t look like a cop.”
“…”
“You look like you belong in the nosebleeds along with the rest of those born losers.”
“…”
“You can flash that badge to me all day, doesn’t prove nothing to me. This is Bangkok. I could get one of those in thirty minutes, gun too. Plus, you barge into this dressing room claiming to be a police captain and you’ve got no back-up? I could have been a psycho killer with superhuman strength for all you know; and you just show up alone?”
“…”
“Right, back-up’s in the car outside huh? You’re a terrible liar buddy. Who are you fooling? I’m supposed to believe that everyone at the station is just okay with you investigating the murder of a Thai diplomat, alone?”
“…”
“Look, whoever you are…”
“…”
“…Captain Hang, whatever, you can throw out all the bait you want, this one ain’t biting. I’m not giving Fish up to you or them.”
“…”
“Yes, I understand who they are and what they are capable of. Do you? Don’t worry about me, I’m tough.”
“…”
“You think I just sit around shuffling round cards all day? I watch the fighters. I practice my Muay Thai and when they come for Fish they’ll have to go through me,” she exclaims slamming her fist down onto the dressing room counter. The vanity mirror shakes from the aftershock and in the distance a bell sounds signaling the end of round 1.
“…”
“I’m tough. I’m not just long legs and a pretty face. I can protect Fish on my own. I don’t need you butting in.”
“…”
“Yeah, I do love Fish, but not in the way you’re thinking.”
“…”
“Note said that? Nutapong ‘Note’ Kung? That slimy midget bartender doesn’t know half as much as he thinks he does. If he were any kind of real friend to Fish you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now… The nerve of that guy. Look, I’m not a prostitute okay? Fish is a friend, not a customer.”
“…”
“The man, practically raised me, rescued me when I was just an infant. Some beggar woman had stolen me from my parents. She was using me to spark up sympathy while she was begging. Toted me around the streets all day and night, collecting change in her cup. Fish was walking along one day, saw this and bought me off the lady right then and there, 10,000 baht.”
“…”
“Fish told me.”
“…”
“Fish took me in like a daughter, fed and clothed me.”
“…”
“School? School is for chumps and people that don’t know how to work for a living. Fish taught me everything I ever needed to know. He taught me how to survive. I owe him my life. Fish is a good man. Yeah, he’s tried to come onto me a few times, when he’s drunk, but he never tries to force me and he stops whenever I ask him to.”
“…”
“Look, I know all of Fish’s friends old and new, he doesn’t have many, and you aren’t one of them.”
“…”
“Oh you have a picture huh?”
“…”
“This is supposed to be you and Fish,” Kunshrii asks, pulling the photo closer to her face, examining it.
“…”
“Hmmm.”
“…”
“Look at him, man, he’s always been that scalely.”
“…”
“Eczema? That’s dry skin right? Dry skin disease in Thailand,” she chuckles to herself. That Fish, guess he could never get himself in deep enough water. He’s always dry, never sweats... till now.
“…”
“You want to help him? Please, you can’t protect him he’s just as dead in your custody as he is out here. Hell, they probably have most of your guys on the payroll. They’ll blow him away the minute he reaches that cell.”
“…”
“Hmph,” she grunts folding her slender arms dismissively.
“…”
“Yes.”
“…”
“Captain, this is the real world and there is no such thing as straight cops their all crooked, even you. Every man has a price.”
“…”
“Yeah, Fish did teach me that, but I sort of figured it out on my own, you know, the hard way. I might look like a cabbage but I’m not that green.”
“…”
“Well, look, I’m not going to tell you where Fish is or what I know so unless you’re prepared to drag my ass down to the station kicking and screaming, I suggest you leave.”
“…”
“And you can tell your friend, General Muk not to bother coming around here again and he can tell his men to stop following me.”
“…”
“Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Sure.”
“…”
“Right, well as if you didn’t know, the guy they say Fish killed or assassinated or whatever, wasn’t just a diplomat, he was a highly decorated Thai general.”
“…”
“SO, word on the street is that the military is looking for Fish too. They plan on paying him back for taking out one of their own.”
“…”
“I’ll tell you this, even if Fish is guilty of capping this guy, he deserved it. Fucking Thaksinites have ruined this country with their crooked politics, pulling us farther from the king and snubbing the poor. The only ones who have thrived these last few years are the rich.”
“…”
“I may be young but I’m old enough to know when the country’s going in the wrong direction.
“…”
“No, I’m not a member of the People’s Alliance for Democracy. Me and Fish often talked about them and how much we agree with a lot of what they say. I’m not committed. Fish is more into that stuff than me.”
“…”
“That’s enough questioning. Captain. I think it’s time you left. Good luck out there. You’re going to need it.”
3.
“Sorry to keep you waiting Captain Hang, but since the King’s Army has seized control of the country we’ve been very busy,” General Ekamai Muk says as he storms into the Ministry of Defense conference room. He takes a seat at the oval shaped table across from Captain Hang and waves the two lieutenants accompanying him out of the room.
“…”
“We’ve been cleaning up the messes left behind by those bourgeois politicos. Under the rule of Thaksin our economy has surged but at the cost of the nations pride and our core beliefs. Damn bureaucrats have ruined this country; they should all be taken out back and shot.”
“…”
“Yes, with the exception of General Morchit Plachalam, of course. He was a hero to many in this country despite his ties.”
“…”
“Yes, I knew him.”
“…”
“We were friends once.”
“…”
“Revenge? What do you mean?”
“…”
“Well, you’re one to talk aren’t you Captain Hang. This case doesn’t seem to fall under your jurisdiction either. You’re stationed in Ayutthaya; the murder of General Morchit Plachalam was committed on the island of Koh Chang at his beach home. I suppose the real question is what interest you’ve taken in this case?”
“…”
“Let’s quit the pleasantries, dressing up interrogation as friendly chit-chat. I have no need to hide from you. You see with a military junta in control, the King’s Army can no longer be held accountable to the police. Until the Council for National Security relinquishes our power to an alternative governing system the military is in complete control of the country. Until that time, Captain Hang, I have every intention of making sure Fish and these PAD bastards get what they deserve.”
“…”
“You could say we are planning to make an example out of him, yes. We’re resending a message; that the army takes care of their own, even in death, that the People’s Alliance for Democracy will not get away with profiting off the coup.”
“…”
“That I haven’t completely worked it out yet. Why General Plachalam? He was a diplomat true and a close personal friend of Thaksin but it doesn’t seem like enough of a reason to kill him. Why not someone else? Or perhaps he was the perfect target a public figure close enough to Thaksin to let him and the country know the PAD could be a threat to the nation’s leaders. Regardless, all evidence points to Fish, so he has made my list of things to do and if you care for him still, which I can’t see how you could, you’d better reach him before I do. Truth be told there are things I’d rather be doing then tracking down some low-life criminal.”
“…”
“Yes, I’m well aware of your connection to Fish. I went ahead and took the liberty of having the police hand over any and all information they had on Fish and you, Captain Hang. I thought you of all people would welcome our interest in Fish. From what I’ve read in his wrap-sheet he’s better off dead.”
“…”
“He deserves to die whether he’s guilty of assassinating General Morchit Plachalam or not. I won’t lose sleep over it,” he huffs as he stands. “If you intend on finding him and proving his innocence I suggest you do it quick. I don’t want to kill him, but I will.”
“…”
“I suggest you check with Dr. Udom Pu. He’s one of the leaders of the PAD’s radical sect. He shared a cell with Fish in prison three years ago. Our intelligence tells us that Pu is probably the one who put Fish up to this. He should know where Fish is hiding, he put him there.”
“…”
“What’s he a doctor of? Nothing, he has graduate degree in Applied Science, whatever that means, and Mass Communication, both received in America. His doctorate is self proclaimed and ties into his image as an activist leader. He says he’s a doctor for the people of Thailand. He’s diagnosed the country as suffering from corruption resting on the foundation of a dying monarchy. He’s written a prescription for, what he calls, ‘The Last Real Truth.’”
“…”
“I’ve tried to meet with him, my office offers to schedule appointment but he refuses to speak with me in person and outside of open threats there’s nothing I can do. I can dispose of his lap dog Fish but doing away with Pu would cause a lot of unwanted attention from the PAD and their high profile friends abroad.”
“…”
“Find Pu, if you can get him to prove his involvement, get him to admit that he ordered the hit and I’ll spare your brother.”
“…”
“Yes, it’s a trade. Get Pu to give himself up and I can promise your brother a long SAFE jail sentence.”
________________________________________________________________________
4.
“Hello I am Dr. Udom Pu. Please have a seat.”
“…”
“Don’t try anything or make any sudden movements, my people have us under surveillance right now.”
“…”
“I can’t stay with you long, I’m very busy. I can’t TELL you where Fish is, because I don’t KNOW where Fish is. However, if talking with you might help lead to my being absolved of this crime I felt it was at least worth meeting with you. I know that a food court is not conducive to interrogation but it is crowded and safe. Siam Paragon is one of the largest malls in Bangkok and draws a lot of foreigners; I can be assured that here no one would dare make an attempt on my life.”
“…”
“Yes, I have had a few threats made on my life but these are different.”
“…”
“You didn’t track me down to find out who is after me and why I have been forced to go into hiding. You came here to ask me about Fish.”
“…”
“So then ask,” he snaps cracking the knuckles of his left hand with his thumb.
“…”
“I don’t know where Fish is and though General Muk would have you believe I am the one who employed Fish to assassinate General Plachalam I assure you I did nothing of the sort.”
“…”
“Someone has decided to frame me. They plan to use me and my connection with Fish to discredit the PAD. The Army is like a dog chasing a bone. Instead of focusing on more important things, like stabilizing the south and those Muslim separatists, they’ve always opted to go after us. They want so much for it to be true. They’ve done little to investigate the validity of these accusations.”
“…”
“The truth, all there is to tie me to this murder is my association with Fish, which isn’t all that substantial.”
“…”
“Four years ago I was arrested during a protest of the Prime Minister. The police began to fire bean bags into the crowd, people ran and three young people were trampled. I was held responsible having organized the event. I shared a cell with Fish. He told me things. That’s why I agreed to meet you. He mentioned you and your daughter, Kunshrii Plaloma.”
“…”
“You’re his brother.”
“…”
“So I imagine that you’re out to clear your brother’s name, ergo, you are the one person in law enforcement that I can trust. You could look at this case objectively, sensibly. Proving Fish’s innocence would disprove my involvement with the assassination and save the name of the People’s Alliance for Democracy.”
“…”
“I know Fish didn’t do this because Fish is nothing but a petty criminal. He doesn’t have the conviction for murder and he’s nowhere near organized enough to orchestrate an assassination.”
“…”
“What did Fish tell me about you? This hardly seems pertinent.”
“…”
“Okay, he, he told me that the two of you are brothers. He’s adopted, which explains why you two look nothing alike.”
“…”
“Kunshrii is your daughter. You asked Fish to care for her when she was younger while you dealt with the death of your wife, which I don’t really understand considering Fish has a proclivity for poor decision making.”
“…”
“But he truly cared for her. Some nights I’d wake up to the sound of him crying, moaning Kunshrii’s name. One day I asked him about her. Though he’d never admit it, I believe he was sorry for having left her to fend for herself. She was no older than 15 at the time. Who knows how she survived? I imagine she had to do a few things she wasn’t so proud of. I don’t know why she felt as though she couldn’t just come to you.”
“…”
“Yes, uh, you were raised in Ayutthaya. Fish was fond of Ayutthaya. He talked about it a lot. He’s always talked about returning some day but for some reason he felt as though he couldn’t.”
“…”
“I don’t know why, we never discussed it,” he yaps. He pauses to straighten his tie and jacket, a matching color of sandy gray. He frowns and says, “I also remember his smell. Fish had a pungent odor. It wasn’t moldy or septic; it was, iron-like, like dried blood.”
“…”
“Fish never had an interest in joining the PAD. He doesn’t believe in democracy, in a government for the people. That’s what’s so ridiculous about all of this. Fish would be happy if complete control of the country was turned over to the King and made the first and last authority on every decision concerning the people of Thailand. To group me and the PAD in with the likes of Fish is a grave injustice, one that I hope for you to set right.”
“…”
“All my resources are at your disposal. If me or my people hear anything we will forward it on to you, anything to aid you in finding Fish and putting an end to all this.”
“…”
“Well, I just hope something I said could have provided you with a lead. Good luck Captain Hang and remember there are people counting on you.”
5.
[congratulations,]
“…”
[don’t]
[…]
[yes,]
[…]
[pretty]
[…]
[when]
[…]
[i]
[…]
[well,]
[…]
[i]
[…]
[ ]
[…]
[so]
[…]
[it’s]
[…]
[ ]
[…][
maybe]
[…]
[i]
[…]
[well,]
[…]
[i’m]
[…]
[uh…]
[…]
[h-hang…]
[…]
[hang,]
[…]
“Good work.”
[…]
“You can put down your gun Captain Hang. I’m not here to hurt you,” breathes General Muk as steps forward from behind a crumbling stone wall. He huffs to himself and extends an open palm but soon withdraws deciding against it. “I was just here to offer my congrats on a job well done. You did not disappoint.”
“…”
“You found Fish, you did what you were supposed to do, what you had been dreaming about doing for a long time…”
“…”
“We used each other. I supplied you with the trail leading you to your brother, giving you the tools, an opportunity to seek out your revenge. In return, you have laid the foundation for us to eliminate a grave threat to the monarchy and Thai loyalist like myself. You see, your brother, Fish, will be judged guilty of everything he has been accused of and you will turn in a statement to the police confirming his involvement in the assassination of General Plachalam.”
“…”
“Because if you don’t, we will kill Kunshrii... So easily silenced? I threaten the life a woman you hardly even know and you are suddenly willing to cooperate? Every man has a price. You know for a moment I was beginning to think we were alike you and I. I saw you for the first time, in person the other day. Sitting in the conference room, looking at you from across the table I began to have doubts. I said, ‘This is a man that can’t be puppeted like all the rest. This is a man like me who refuses to cower to another man’s machinations.’ However, here you are now, immobile, willing to give up your integrity. She may have been your daughter once but she isn’t anymore. She’s a complete stranger to you, Fish made sure of that when he kidnapped her, but yet you still want to defend her, you still want to be her father.”
“…”
“How hard was it for you when you saw her and realized that no matter what you did, no matter how many times you killed Fish, it wouldn’t bring back the time you had lost? How does it feel to watch your brother squirm in the dirt while life drains out of him knowing you are no closer to getting your wife back?”
“…”
“You would let me use you, gladly, to feel, for once like Kunshrii’s father. Pathetic, you’re just like your brother, a goon for hire.”
“…”
“You can save your compliments for someone else Captain Hang. I enjoy your enthusiasm but if you lunge at me like that again it will cost you…”
“…”
“ Now, you will head promptly to the nearest police station, your station, where you will alert your men that you have shot and killed Fish,” General Muk says, and two soldiers emerge from the darkness. They move quick and precise, altering the crime scene and squeezing a gun in the left hand of Fish’s lifeless body. “You tell them you had Fish cornered. A concerned older brother, you had intentions of bring Fish into justice yourself, you felt it was your duty and responsibility. Unfortunately, after trying to reason with him for several minutes Fish pulled a gun on you and you were forced to shoot him in self defense. About to meet his end, Fish, with his last breath revealed to you that he was approached by Dr. Udom Pu. The PAD paid Fish to kill General Morchit Plachalam.”
“…”
“They WILL believe it, that’s why we picked you. Your record is spotless; you are well liked and known for being honest to a fault, incorruptible.”
“…”
“Forensics won’t bother sweeping the crime scene if you tell them not to and you know that. They’re your men, Hang. You’ve put your neck out for virtually every guy in that station, one way or another. They would follow you to the ends of the Earth, that’s another reason we chose you.”
“…”
“Like I said you are a pawn, a key player in our fight to protect the monarchy, to protect Thailand. You see when, the Army decided to seize control of the nation and oust Thaksin many of us in the armed services viewed the coup as an opportunity to do some tidying up.”
“…”
“It had long been suspected that General Plachalam was using his connections to help fund and aid Muslim Separatists in the south. We found evidence of this less than two weeks before the intended coup. Plachalam’s involvements lead to the deaths of nearly 300 officers serving this country, innocent men fighting to keep Thailand united and under the rule of the King. We didn’t want to hand him over to you, the police, in fear that it could explode into a scandal and cause citizens to question our leadership. To get rid of Thaksin we needed to have the support of the people, we needed them to know we were a better solution, and though we don’t intend to control things forever the last thing we want is for citizens to have reason to doubt or question the intentions of the CNS while in power.”
“…”
“That being said, we decided to assassinate General Plachalam but it couldn’t appear to be us. Someone, some organization, had to be behind it. Immediately we thought of the PAD. They have been a thorn in the side of the monarchy for years. This was an opportunity to rock them to their foundation, discredit them and put away one of their chief officials –Dr. Udom Pu. Looking into Pu’s past I just happened to stumble across Fish, a two bit criminal that no one would care about, the perfect fall guy. However, we needed a way to clean up the mess we made. Framing Fish wasn’t enough; we had to make sure he couldn’t live long enough to piece together what had happened to him, who was really behind it. There you were, a picture of you staring up at me from the folder. Fish had plenty of enemies but you were perfect, you had a reason and you had a weakness we could exploit. We forwarded the lead to you. Dropped Fish’s last known whereabouts on your desk and waited for you to follow the trail.
“…”
“I’m not telling you this to gain perspective. I’m not telling you this because I give a damn how you feel. I’m telling you this so that the next time you see me walking down the street and I give a little nod, you’ll know why I’m there and what it means. I’m telling you this so you’ll realize that you’ve been drafted into our war, my war, a secret war. I’m telling you this so that the next time I give you an assignment you’ll know what we are capable of and why it is so crucial you do as you’re told.”
“…”
“Funny, Captain Hang Pla. Pla means Fish. You and your brother are more similar than you’d like to admit. On two different sides of the law, you both managed to end up in the same position,” General Muk snorts. He turns and begins to walk away. His soldiers follow. Before he fades out of sight he says, “Good work, Fish, you did not disappoint.”
<><
1.
“F-fish,” the bartender coughs into his tiny hands. “Yeah, I know ‘em. Met him a few years ago on the day Buddha died, during a celebration for the gathering of the 500 monks. Said he was coming into town from Pataya. Fish’s a goon, got wrinkles in his neck as deep as gills and knuckles as tough as barnacles. Fish, he’s built to take out the trash, you know what I’m mean? I’m saying if you need a job done you call Fish.”
“…”
“Well no, I’ve never required Fish’s services. I’m just saying is all, I know him. Comes in her regular, gets piss drunk and starts blabbing to anyone who’ll listen. And I mean blabbing, EVERYTHING, his entire life story, every nasty job he’s ever done. I knew your type would be showing up here asking questions, eventually.”
“…”
“If you mind me asking, what is all this about?”
“…”
“I see, so, look how bout you ask me what you really want to know and I’ll get back to tending bar. Where is Fish?”
“…”
“I don’t know where Fish is, but I know he likes to gamble; spends a lot of time downtown, at the fights. In fact he owed a few loan sharks so much money he started working for them to pay off the debt. Cause of his size you know, big guy, good for breaking legs. Yup, you’ll probably find Fish up in the nose bleeds taking bets. Ask around, somebody there has seen ‘em.”
“…”
“There’s this girl, a round card girl, named… What was it now? Man, a guy was in here just asking me about her the other day… Kunshrii, that’s it, Kunshrii Plaloma. She’s half Chinese, real pretty, real young. Long legs, smooth and shiny. Chatty too, a little too chatty. She never really knows when to shut the hell up, always squeakin. Fish brought her around here a few times.”
“…”
“She nurses his wounds if the price is right, or at least that’s what I figure. What else would a girl like that want with a guy like Fish, I can’t understand otherwise,” the bartender explains. He looks at his watch and taps the bar, climbs down from his stool and says, “Right, so I guess you should get going, you’ve got Fish to catch, ay?”
“…”
“No problem, just doing my civic duty, you know, as a concerned citizen and all that. I don’t think it’s right for people to just go around killing government officials. I mean, I’m not a fan of Thaksin but it’s not okay to go around shooting friends of the Prime Minister, even during a coup.”
“…”
“Yeah, I hear ya. And look, if I could offer my opinion…”
“…”
“Fish is a lot of things, but he ain’t no killer. It’s just not in him; he doesn’t got the nerve for it.”
“…”
“Right, good day to you too Captain Hang.”
2.
“You don’t look like a cop.”
“…”
“You look like you belong in the nosebleeds along with the rest of those born losers.”
“…”
“You can flash that badge to me all day, doesn’t prove nothing to me. This is Bangkok. I could get one of those in thirty minutes, gun too. Plus, you barge into this dressing room claiming to be a police captain and you’ve got no back-up? I could have been a psycho killer with superhuman strength for all you know; and you just show up alone?”
“…”
“Right, back-up’s in the car outside huh? You’re a terrible liar buddy. Who are you fooling? I’m supposed to believe that everyone at the station is just okay with you investigating the murder of a Thai diplomat, alone?”
“…”
“Look, whoever you are…”
“…”
“…Captain Hang, whatever, you can throw out all the bait you want, this one ain’t biting. I’m not giving Fish up to you or them.”
“…”
“Yes, I understand who they are and what they are capable of. Do you? Don’t worry about me, I’m tough.”
“…”
“You think I just sit around shuffling round cards all day? I watch the fighters. I practice my Muay Thai and when they come for Fish they’ll have to go through me,” she exclaims slamming her fist down onto the dressing room counter. The vanity mirror shakes from the aftershock and in the distance a bell sounds signaling the end of round 1.
“…”
“I’m tough. I’m not just long legs and a pretty face. I can protect Fish on my own. I don’t need you butting in.”
“…”
“Yeah, I do love Fish, but not in the way you’re thinking.”
“…”
“Note said that? Nutapong ‘Note’ Kung? That slimy midget bartender doesn’t know half as much as he thinks he does. If he were any kind of real friend to Fish you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now… The nerve of that guy. Look, I’m not a prostitute okay? Fish is a friend, not a customer.”
“…”
“The man, practically raised me, rescued me when I was just an infant. Some beggar woman had stolen me from my parents. She was using me to spark up sympathy while she was begging. Toted me around the streets all day and night, collecting change in her cup. Fish was walking along one day, saw this and bought me off the lady right then and there, 10,000 baht.”
“…”
“Fish told me.”
“…”
“Fish took me in like a daughter, fed and clothed me.”
“…”
“School? School is for chumps and people that don’t know how to work for a living. Fish taught me everything I ever needed to know. He taught me how to survive. I owe him my life. Fish is a good man. Yeah, he’s tried to come onto me a few times, when he’s drunk, but he never tries to force me and he stops whenever I ask him to.”
“…”
“Look, I know all of Fish’s friends old and new, he doesn’t have many, and you aren’t one of them.”
“…”
“Oh you have a picture huh?”
“…”
“This is supposed to be you and Fish,” Kunshrii asks, pulling the photo closer to her face, examining it.
“…”
“Hmmm.”
“…”
“Look at him, man, he’s always been that scalely.”
“…”
“Eczema? That’s dry skin right? Dry skin disease in Thailand,” she chuckles to herself. That Fish, guess he could never get himself in deep enough water. He’s always dry, never sweats... till now.
“…”
“You want to help him? Please, you can’t protect him he’s just as dead in your custody as he is out here. Hell, they probably have most of your guys on the payroll. They’ll blow him away the minute he reaches that cell.”
“…”
“Hmph,” she grunts folding her slender arms dismissively.
“…”
“Yes.”
“…”
“Captain, this is the real world and there is no such thing as straight cops their all crooked, even you. Every man has a price.”
“…”
“Yeah, Fish did teach me that, but I sort of figured it out on my own, you know, the hard way. I might look like a cabbage but I’m not that green.”
“…”
“Well, look, I’m not going to tell you where Fish is or what I know so unless you’re prepared to drag my ass down to the station kicking and screaming, I suggest you leave.”
“…”
“And you can tell your friend, General Muk not to bother coming around here again and he can tell his men to stop following me.”
“…”
“Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Sure.”
“…”
“Right, well as if you didn’t know, the guy they say Fish killed or assassinated or whatever, wasn’t just a diplomat, he was a highly decorated Thai general.”
“…”
“SO, word on the street is that the military is looking for Fish too. They plan on paying him back for taking out one of their own.”
“…”
“I’ll tell you this, even if Fish is guilty of capping this guy, he deserved it. Fucking Thaksinites have ruined this country with their crooked politics, pulling us farther from the king and snubbing the poor. The only ones who have thrived these last few years are the rich.”
“…”
“I may be young but I’m old enough to know when the country’s going in the wrong direction.
“…”
“No, I’m not a member of the People’s Alliance for Democracy. Me and Fish often talked about them and how much we agree with a lot of what they say. I’m not committed. Fish is more into that stuff than me.”
“…”
“That’s enough questioning. Captain. I think it’s time you left. Good luck out there. You’re going to need it.”
3.
“Sorry to keep you waiting Captain Hang, but since the King’s Army has seized control of the country we’ve been very busy,” General Ekamai Muk says as he storms into the Ministry of Defense conference room. He takes a seat at the oval shaped table across from Captain Hang and waves the two lieutenants accompanying him out of the room.
“…”
“We’ve been cleaning up the messes left behind by those bourgeois politicos. Under the rule of Thaksin our economy has surged but at the cost of the nations pride and our core beliefs. Damn bureaucrats have ruined this country; they should all be taken out back and shot.”
“…”
“Yes, with the exception of General Morchit Plachalam, of course. He was a hero to many in this country despite his ties.”
“…”
“Yes, I knew him.”
“…”
“We were friends once.”
“…”
“Revenge? What do you mean?”
“…”
“Well, you’re one to talk aren’t you Captain Hang. This case doesn’t seem to fall under your jurisdiction either. You’re stationed in Ayutthaya; the murder of General Morchit Plachalam was committed on the island of Koh Chang at his beach home. I suppose the real question is what interest you’ve taken in this case?”
“…”
“Let’s quit the pleasantries, dressing up interrogation as friendly chit-chat. I have no need to hide from you. You see with a military junta in control, the King’s Army can no longer be held accountable to the police. Until the Council for National Security relinquishes our power to an alternative governing system the military is in complete control of the country. Until that time, Captain Hang, I have every intention of making sure Fish and these PAD bastards get what they deserve.”
“…”
“You could say we are planning to make an example out of him, yes. We’re resending a message; that the army takes care of their own, even in death, that the People’s Alliance for Democracy will not get away with profiting off the coup.”
“…”
“That I haven’t completely worked it out yet. Why General Plachalam? He was a diplomat true and a close personal friend of Thaksin but it doesn’t seem like enough of a reason to kill him. Why not someone else? Or perhaps he was the perfect target a public figure close enough to Thaksin to let him and the country know the PAD could be a threat to the nation’s leaders. Regardless, all evidence points to Fish, so he has made my list of things to do and if you care for him still, which I can’t see how you could, you’d better reach him before I do. Truth be told there are things I’d rather be doing then tracking down some low-life criminal.”
“…”
“Yes, I’m well aware of your connection to Fish. I went ahead and took the liberty of having the police hand over any and all information they had on Fish and you, Captain Hang. I thought you of all people would welcome our interest in Fish. From what I’ve read in his wrap-sheet he’s better off dead.”
“…”
“He deserves to die whether he’s guilty of assassinating General Morchit Plachalam or not. I won’t lose sleep over it,” he huffs as he stands. “If you intend on finding him and proving his innocence I suggest you do it quick. I don’t want to kill him, but I will.”
“…”
“I suggest you check with Dr. Udom Pu. He’s one of the leaders of the PAD’s radical sect. He shared a cell with Fish in prison three years ago. Our intelligence tells us that Pu is probably the one who put Fish up to this. He should know where Fish is hiding, he put him there.”
“…”
“What’s he a doctor of? Nothing, he has graduate degree in Applied Science, whatever that means, and Mass Communication, both received in America. His doctorate is self proclaimed and ties into his image as an activist leader. He says he’s a doctor for the people of Thailand. He’s diagnosed the country as suffering from corruption resting on the foundation of a dying monarchy. He’s written a prescription for, what he calls, ‘The Last Real Truth.’”
“…”
“I’ve tried to meet with him, my office offers to schedule appointment but he refuses to speak with me in person and outside of open threats there’s nothing I can do. I can dispose of his lap dog Fish but doing away with Pu would cause a lot of unwanted attention from the PAD and their high profile friends abroad.”
“…”
“Find Pu, if you can get him to prove his involvement, get him to admit that he ordered the hit and I’ll spare your brother.”
“…”
“Yes, it’s a trade. Get Pu to give himself up and I can promise your brother a long SAFE jail sentence.”
________________________________________________________________________
4.
“Hello I am Dr. Udom Pu. Please have a seat.”
“…”
“Don’t try anything or make any sudden movements, my people have us under surveillance right now.”
“…”
“I can’t stay with you long, I’m very busy. I can’t TELL you where Fish is, because I don’t KNOW where Fish is. However, if talking with you might help lead to my being absolved of this crime I felt it was at least worth meeting with you. I know that a food court is not conducive to interrogation but it is crowded and safe. Siam Paragon is one of the largest malls in Bangkok and draws a lot of foreigners; I can be assured that here no one would dare make an attempt on my life.”
“…”
“Yes, I have had a few threats made on my life but these are different.”
“…”
“You didn’t track me down to find out who is after me and why I have been forced to go into hiding. You came here to ask me about Fish.”
“…”
“So then ask,” he snaps cracking the knuckles of his left hand with his thumb.
“…”
“I don’t know where Fish is and though General Muk would have you believe I am the one who employed Fish to assassinate General Plachalam I assure you I did nothing of the sort.”
“…”
“Someone has decided to frame me. They plan to use me and my connection with Fish to discredit the PAD. The Army is like a dog chasing a bone. Instead of focusing on more important things, like stabilizing the south and those Muslim separatists, they’ve always opted to go after us. They want so much for it to be true. They’ve done little to investigate the validity of these accusations.”
“…”
“The truth, all there is to tie me to this murder is my association with Fish, which isn’t all that substantial.”
“…”
“Four years ago I was arrested during a protest of the Prime Minister. The police began to fire bean bags into the crowd, people ran and three young people were trampled. I was held responsible having organized the event. I shared a cell with Fish. He told me things. That’s why I agreed to meet you. He mentioned you and your daughter, Kunshrii Plaloma.”
“…”
“You’re his brother.”
“…”
“So I imagine that you’re out to clear your brother’s name, ergo, you are the one person in law enforcement that I can trust. You could look at this case objectively, sensibly. Proving Fish’s innocence would disprove my involvement with the assassination and save the name of the People’s Alliance for Democracy.”
“…”
“I know Fish didn’t do this because Fish is nothing but a petty criminal. He doesn’t have the conviction for murder and he’s nowhere near organized enough to orchestrate an assassination.”
“…”
“What did Fish tell me about you? This hardly seems pertinent.”
“…”
“Okay, he, he told me that the two of you are brothers. He’s adopted, which explains why you two look nothing alike.”
“…”
“Kunshrii is your daughter. You asked Fish to care for her when she was younger while you dealt with the death of your wife, which I don’t really understand considering Fish has a proclivity for poor decision making.”
“…”
“But he truly cared for her. Some nights I’d wake up to the sound of him crying, moaning Kunshrii’s name. One day I asked him about her. Though he’d never admit it, I believe he was sorry for having left her to fend for herself. She was no older than 15 at the time. Who knows how she survived? I imagine she had to do a few things she wasn’t so proud of. I don’t know why she felt as though she couldn’t just come to you.”
“…”
“Yes, uh, you were raised in Ayutthaya. Fish was fond of Ayutthaya. He talked about it a lot. He’s always talked about returning some day but for some reason he felt as though he couldn’t.”
“…”
“I don’t know why, we never discussed it,” he yaps. He pauses to straighten his tie and jacket, a matching color of sandy gray. He frowns and says, “I also remember his smell. Fish had a pungent odor. It wasn’t moldy or septic; it was, iron-like, like dried blood.”
“…”
“Fish never had an interest in joining the PAD. He doesn’t believe in democracy, in a government for the people. That’s what’s so ridiculous about all of this. Fish would be happy if complete control of the country was turned over to the King and made the first and last authority on every decision concerning the people of Thailand. To group me and the PAD in with the likes of Fish is a grave injustice, one that I hope for you to set right.”
“…”
“All my resources are at your disposal. If me or my people hear anything we will forward it on to you, anything to aid you in finding Fish and putting an end to all this.”
“…”
“Well, I just hope something I said could have provided you with a lead. Good luck Captain Hang and remember there are people counting on you.”
5.
[congratulations,]
“…”
[don’t]
[…]
[yes,]
[…]
[pretty]
[…]
[when]
[…]
[i]
[…]
[well,]
[…]
[i]
[…]
[ ]
[…]
[so]
[…]
[it’s]
[…]
[ ]
[…][
maybe]
[…]
[i]
[…]
[well,]
[…]
[i’m]
[…]
[uh…]
[…]
[h-hang…]
[…]
[hang,]
[…]
“Good work.”
[…]
“You can put down your gun Captain Hang. I’m not here to hurt you,” breathes General Muk as steps forward from behind a crumbling stone wall. He huffs to himself and extends an open palm but soon withdraws deciding against it. “I was just here to offer my congrats on a job well done. You did not disappoint.”
“…”
“You found Fish, you did what you were supposed to do, what you had been dreaming about doing for a long time…”
“…”
“We used each other. I supplied you with the trail leading you to your brother, giving you the tools, an opportunity to seek out your revenge. In return, you have laid the foundation for us to eliminate a grave threat to the monarchy and Thai loyalist like myself. You see, your brother, Fish, will be judged guilty of everything he has been accused of and you will turn in a statement to the police confirming his involvement in the assassination of General Plachalam.”
“…”
“Because if you don’t, we will kill Kunshrii... So easily silenced? I threaten the life a woman you hardly even know and you are suddenly willing to cooperate? Every man has a price. You know for a moment I was beginning to think we were alike you and I. I saw you for the first time, in person the other day. Sitting in the conference room, looking at you from across the table I began to have doubts. I said, ‘This is a man that can’t be puppeted like all the rest. This is a man like me who refuses to cower to another man’s machinations.’ However, here you are now, immobile, willing to give up your integrity. She may have been your daughter once but she isn’t anymore. She’s a complete stranger to you, Fish made sure of that when he kidnapped her, but yet you still want to defend her, you still want to be her father.”
“…”
“How hard was it for you when you saw her and realized that no matter what you did, no matter how many times you killed Fish, it wouldn’t bring back the time you had lost? How does it feel to watch your brother squirm in the dirt while life drains out of him knowing you are no closer to getting your wife back?”
“…”
“You would let me use you, gladly, to feel, for once like Kunshrii’s father. Pathetic, you’re just like your brother, a goon for hire.”
“…”
“You can save your compliments for someone else Captain Hang. I enjoy your enthusiasm but if you lunge at me like that again it will cost you…”
“…”
“ Now, you will head promptly to the nearest police station, your station, where you will alert your men that you have shot and killed Fish,” General Muk says, and two soldiers emerge from the darkness. They move quick and precise, altering the crime scene and squeezing a gun in the left hand of Fish’s lifeless body. “You tell them you had Fish cornered. A concerned older brother, you had intentions of bring Fish into justice yourself, you felt it was your duty and responsibility. Unfortunately, after trying to reason with him for several minutes Fish pulled a gun on you and you were forced to shoot him in self defense. About to meet his end, Fish, with his last breath revealed to you that he was approached by Dr. Udom Pu. The PAD paid Fish to kill General Morchit Plachalam.”
“…”
“They WILL believe it, that’s why we picked you. Your record is spotless; you are well liked and known for being honest to a fault, incorruptible.”
“…”
“Forensics won’t bother sweeping the crime scene if you tell them not to and you know that. They’re your men, Hang. You’ve put your neck out for virtually every guy in that station, one way or another. They would follow you to the ends of the Earth, that’s another reason we chose you.”
“…”
“Like I said you are a pawn, a key player in our fight to protect the monarchy, to protect Thailand. You see when, the Army decided to seize control of the nation and oust Thaksin many of us in the armed services viewed the coup as an opportunity to do some tidying up.”
“…”
“It had long been suspected that General Plachalam was using his connections to help fund and aid Muslim Separatists in the south. We found evidence of this less than two weeks before the intended coup. Plachalam’s involvements lead to the deaths of nearly 300 officers serving this country, innocent men fighting to keep Thailand united and under the rule of the King. We didn’t want to hand him over to you, the police, in fear that it could explode into a scandal and cause citizens to question our leadership. To get rid of Thaksin we needed to have the support of the people, we needed them to know we were a better solution, and though we don’t intend to control things forever the last thing we want is for citizens to have reason to doubt or question the intentions of the CNS while in power.”
“…”
“That being said, we decided to assassinate General Plachalam but it couldn’t appear to be us. Someone, some organization, had to be behind it. Immediately we thought of the PAD. They have been a thorn in the side of the monarchy for years. This was an opportunity to rock them to their foundation, discredit them and put away one of their chief officials –Dr. Udom Pu. Looking into Pu’s past I just happened to stumble across Fish, a two bit criminal that no one would care about, the perfect fall guy. However, we needed a way to clean up the mess we made. Framing Fish wasn’t enough; we had to make sure he couldn’t live long enough to piece together what had happened to him, who was really behind it. There you were, a picture of you staring up at me from the folder. Fish had plenty of enemies but you were perfect, you had a reason and you had a weakness we could exploit. We forwarded the lead to you. Dropped Fish’s last known whereabouts on your desk and waited for you to follow the trail.
“…”
“I’m not telling you this to gain perspective. I’m not telling you this because I give a damn how you feel. I’m telling you this so that the next time you see me walking down the street and I give a little nod, you’ll know why I’m there and what it means. I’m telling you this so you’ll realize that you’ve been drafted into our war, my war, a secret war. I’m telling you this so that the next time I give you an assignment you’ll know what we are capable of and why it is so crucial you do as you’re told.”
“…”
“Funny, Captain Hang Pla. Pla means Fish. You and your brother are more similar than you’d like to admit. On two different sides of the law, you both managed to end up in the same position,” General Muk snorts. He turns and begins to walk away. His soldiers follow. Before he fades out of sight he says, “Good work, Fish, you did not disappoint.”
Nicholas Hilbourn
A Short Biography of Emilio Cortez
Emilio Cortez was fourteen years a fisherman. He lived near the coast of the Yucatan Peninsula in a small apartment in the fishing town of Puerta. In his youth, he had lived in Chichen-Itza, a small traditional town near the center of the Peninsula, but he left home when he was sixteen in order to pursue a life as a fisherman as he disapproved of his father’s occupation of a drunkard and thief. His mother cried when he left, but he did not let it bother him. He had created a saying, long ago, to deal with such situations, formulating it during his father’s drunken tirades in order to keep the anger from penetrating his soul.
The world is insane, he would say to himself.
His mother’s cries were simply another voice in the cacophony of chaotic motion and frivolous destruction always happening within the world and the only solace Emilio found was in fishing.
Lying about his age, he was able to gain a spot on a tuna boat under the jurisdiction of Delo Muerte, a bald, fat and hairy man. His body was shaped like an eggplant and he was often vicious toward his men while at sea, but on shore he was a grandfather, a lovely old man who let small children climb up his back and play in the remnant of his black hair, scattered about his head like bushes in the desert. The locals loved him for his good humor, fascinating stories and roaring laugh. They often spoke of his smile, which was as wide as a halved watermelon.
Once Emilio had worked under Delo Muerte for a year and proven himself as a competent fisherman, he worked up the nerve to approach the balding ship captain about his dual natures. Because they were on land at the time, Delo Muerte was amiable to Emilio’s question. After having a few drinks with Delo Muerte, Emilio asked him how he separated his two lives, land and sea.
“No me recruedo,” he said, which means ‘I don’t remember’. “Yo soy, ‘no me recruedo’,” he repeated and smiled his watermelon grin.
That next summer, a terrible storm came through the area. At the time, Emilio had begun work on a crab boat part-time to gain experience. It was while he was sorting through crabs with his shipmates that a skinny man with a tuft of black hair and marble eyes rushed in and said that Delo Muerte’s ship had been found torn to pieces on the shore, but all the crew members were gone, including Delo Muerte.
The next day, Delo Muerte and two of his men washed up on shore. They were dead, seaweed had wrapped itself about their arms, legs and neck as if the ocean itself had tied them up and murdered them, presenting them to the fishermen on the shore as a warning.
At least, that’s how many people near Emilio talked.
Saddened by Delo Muerte’s death, Emilio stayed away from the sea for several weeks until an older man named Vicente Rosa came to his loft and introduced himself as Delo Muerte’s accountant. Vicente said Delo Muerte had named Emilio as his heir and that all of Delo Muerte’s possessions (including his business) now passed to Emilio. The thought of taking over Delo Muerte’s old business made Emilio sick to his stomach. He felt as if he was stealing from a dead man. Vicente said an alternative was for Emilio to accept the cash equivalent of all of Delo Muerte’s possessions. Yet, Emilio wished to fish and with Delo Muerte’s boat and business, he would be able to do it until he died. So, he said to himself under his breathe, the world is insane. Then, he inhaled deeply and agreed to take over Delo Muerte’s business.
Because Emilio had earned a good reputation while working under the late Delo Muerte, fishermen came in droves when they found out that he was captaining a ship. Among them was Lucien Amarado, Murion Entillada, Carravon Peses (also know as Carravon Grandé) and José Penchillo. They were the best fishermen in Puerta. José had known Emilio from time spent crabbing and an exceptional crabber José was: agile, handsome, kind and a talented guitarist. On Friday nights, he would join a local band to play tradition Puertan sailing songs, while people from the village waltzed and a little later, once all the older people had gone home, he would play songs from the radio as the younger crowd did the most provocative dances they could think of.
Emilio was there every night to support José, whom he called his brother.
José’s sister, Rosalie, was also there. She was the shortest of her family with the minutest hands of any girl in Puerta. Her father called her Copo de nieve, or Snowflake, as she was so small and quiet that he never heard her enter a room.
While everyone danced to José and his band’s music, Rosalie stayed in the corner. She did not come to dance, but to watch her brother.
Emilio did not come to dance either, but to watch Rosalie.
If asked, he would dance, but he never cared much for his partner. To him, they were all reflections of Rosalie.
When he was at sea, captaining Delo Muerte’s ship, his mind would drift to the shape of her face and he would find its pattern floating in the ocean or ingrained into the wood of the boat.
When he ate, he would imagine Rosalie across from him smiling.
When he slept, he would imagine Rosalie’s head resting on his chest.
He would be reminded of her through the most abstract matter, imagining his face lost in her hair as he leaned against one of the ship’s sails, or, more often than not, thinking of her arm resting in his as he held a limp tuna fish in his hands. His crew watched him, amused, as he caressed the tuna’s body and joked that he should be careful, women were wary of men that stroked their tuna too much.
He told them he was wary of paying crew who told bad jokes and they went back to work.
They didn’t know he was thinking of Rosalie. No one knew except Emilio. He kept his secrets hidden within himself as a crab within its shell.
Nonetheless, he studied Rosalie, learning everything he could about her through overheard conversations and discreetly interrogating José after work. Through these methods, he discovered her favorite color was purple, that she liked sliced grapefruit for breakfast, that she enjoyed reading horror comics, that her favorite smell was burning wood and, of course, that her father called her Copo de Nieve, Snowflake.
José never suspected anything, so it was without hesitation, during the early part of the year, that he told Emilio that Rosalie would be married to Rodrigo Allurío, a rich businessman who owned several large fishing boats.
Emilio’s throat became dry and heavy as if he was swallowing a large rock.
“Rosalie?” he said, gulping hard. José said Rosalie was his sister and Emilio apologized. He said he had forgotten José had a sister.
A week before Rosalie married Rodrigo, Emilio drank heavily until midnight, then, his eyes circling wildly, he stumbled from the bar in search of Santería, a prostitute he had once met through a friend. He paid her the equivalent of two weeks’ pay for one of his men and told her to perform as many sexual acts on him as she could before daybreak. Among those performed were Amarillo Huevos, Señor Juan, Enfadado Cantado, Dios Mio, Mexicanos Zapatos, Blanco Rojo and La Leche de Sonrisa three times as it was Santería’s specialty.
In the morning, Emilio asked her to marry him and Santería obliged him as he was considerably rich and she figured marriage would cleanse her of all past sins. They were married a day before Rosalie and Rodrigo. Emilio wanted no one at the ceremony, only a priest, so that Santería could feel cleansed.
The next day, Emilio snuck to the edge of Rodrigo Allurío’s property to watch the wedding. Even from a distance, he could see Rodrigo’s large grin as he cupped Rosalie’s hand in his. They were under a dome of flowers in front of a considerable group of people. Everyone was dressed in white and Emilio thought, from far away, it looked like a flock of seagulls had landed on Rodrigo’s lawn. Rodrigo kissed Rosalie and there was clapping. Rodrigo held her head gently, bringing her to and drawing her back from his mouth. Rosalie was smiling. Her face was flushed. She was happy.
Emilio felt tears stinging at the back of his eyes.
Before the reception, Emilio fled Rodrigo’s property and returned to his home. Santería was waiting for him. She had cooked her first meal and she wanted them to eat it together. Emilio obliged, sitting beside her at their dinner table. The meal was putrid. Everything was burned. Yet, Emilio said nothing and finished it all. He thanked her when he was finished. Santería giggled and said she would cook for him every night from now on. He had given her a new start and she pledged never step back into her former life, as Emilio Cortez had made her honorable. Emilio groaned quietly as he thought of eating another meal cooked by Santería.
After dinner, Emilio decided to take a walk by himself. Santería had pledged to clean the entire kitchen by herself. Emilio figured he would extend his walk so as to give her enough time. He stopped at the harbor where his boat was docked. His heart was heavy as a stone drifting to the bottom of the ocean. His body was tight as if all his muscles were on the verge of explosion. Climbing aboard his boat, he found a spot in the captain’s area where no one could see him and he fell to the floor, wailing like a dog. He cried for less than a minute when he abruptly stopped and stood, shaking his head at such foolishness and then thought, the world is insane.
That was that and he thought of Rosalie no more.
He hurried to his house and found Santería sweeping up the kitchen. He jerked the broom from her hand, took her by the arm into the bedroom and threw her on the bed and had the fiercest, angriest sex he had ever had. He felt he had ripped Santería in two. She would later tell him that that moment was the only time she had ever reached orgasm with a man.
The next time Emilio saw Rosalie was three years later and she was alongside Rodrigo as he was surveying the boats docked in the harbor, many of which were his. When Rodrigo waved to Emilio, Emilio waved back, but when Rosalie waved to him, he abruptly turned his head. When he turned back around Rosalie didn’t look phased at all. She still had a bright smile across her face. It made Emilio sick.
The next month Rodrigo Allurío was dead, killed as he was repairing on of his yachts. Although Rodrigo had never been the most popular man in Puerta, he was the richest, so his funeral was very ornate and heavily attended. He was buried on his property. Emilio did not attend the funeral, but watched it from the same spot as he had the wedding. Rosalie was dressed in black and José was beside her. He had asked Emilio to attend funeral, but Emilio told him he did not care for Rodrigo Allurío and did not want to attend. He made José so angry that they did not speak again.
After Rodrigo’s death Rosalie fell into a deep depression. She rarely ate and would periodically dress in the dress she wore to the funeral for days without changing or bathing. To see her so troubled made Emilio feel both saddened and elated.
Although he had never wished it to happen, Santería became pregnant. She said she imagined the child would be a great fisherman like Emilio. He asked her if she would abort the child, but Santería said she was through killing children and that she planned on having the child. She felt becoming a mother would bring her honor.
Rosalie inherited all of Rodrigo’s fortune, including his boats, his houses, his art collection and his horses and dogs. With Rodrigo’s death, Emilio saw his business skyrocket as Rosalie sold most of Rodrigo’s boats and put most of the money into the stock market. She had told Rodrigo’s family and her own that she would never marry again.
Emilio, although his business was thriving, had not caught a fish in nine months. Santería said it was because the child was destined to take his place, so his power was being transferred. Emilio said that was unfair. He should be allowed to have his power until he died. He felt the child should leave his property alone. Angry, he stormed out of the house and became drunk. On the wall behind him was a large portrait of Rodrigo Allurío, as he owned the bar. Emilio cursed Rodrigo, cursed Rosalie and, for good measure, cursed the baby was stealing his fishing powers. He asked for another drink and then cursed his mother, who had not talked to in ten years. Then, he laughed loudly and coughed coarsely, mumbling between hacking heaves that the world was insane. It was this thought that finally calmed him and he quickly pass out face-first on a bar table.
He was awoken early the next morning.
A man with wide eyes and a tuft of graying hair told him that his house had caught fire. A firefighter had run into save her, but as he was carrying to the door, the roof caved in killing both him and Santería.
Emilio cursed the house and ordered another drink. When the bartended asked him what the man had told him, Emilio said he told him that the world was insane.
The insurance on the house was enough to rebuild it and Emilio did so with a cold efficiency. He had his wife buried quickly with no elaborate ceremony. Many people assumed that the grief had been so intense that Emilio had drained of all emotion.
People worried about his mental state and, therefore, the state of his company. Yet, his company remained stable, but people said that Emilio did not.
He claimed the world was insane.
It was at a time when his business had never been better. Eight months after Santería’s death, Emilio’s fishing business had surpassed even Rodrigo Allurío’s former enterprise in size. Emilio’s demeanor had seemed to improve as well. He often strode the shoreline in warmer weather and greeted people with a warm smile. To everyone in town, he seemed like he had overcome the tendrils of his wife’s death. Yet, Emilio could not bear to be around people for more than a few hours before he hated them. He could not say why this was. It just was.
His frustration continued when he hit the two anniversary of his fishing slump. Although his business thrived and tuna surged into his nets in droves, he could not catch a fish on his own. It tugged deeply at his soul as fishing had been his passion. It kept him awake at night and he felt the only to deal with it was to dismiss it. It was natural runoff from an insane world.
Rosalie had long been dead to the people of Puerta, having locked herself inside her late-husband’s walled mansion and yard. Yet, she made it official when she killed herself on the tenth anniversary of Rodrigo Allurío’s death. When the news hit town, Emilio was on the sea with one his crews, releasing their nets for the final catch of the day and it was an extraordinary one. It was the best catch any of his ship had ever made. Emilio was exuberant. His men had never seen him so excited. Emilio promised to buy them all drinks once they got to shore. They thought he was excited because the catch had been so large, but Emilio was more excited because he felt the large catch symbolized that his slump was over. When he was returning to his home to change clothes, he was stopped by man with wide eyes and a tuft of thinning hair who told him that Rosalie had committed suicide.
“Cómo?” Emilio asked. The man told him she had drowned herself in a pool behind her house. Emilio contacted his men and told them he needed to call it off, yet when his men complained, Emilio suddenly felt foolish for acting so emotional about a woman who he barely knew. He said drinks were back on and throughout the night, whenever Rosalie would pop into his head, he would yell, hold his drink high in the air, toast his men, drink and order a round of whiskey for all of them.
Eventually, Rosalie was the faint reflection of an echo in his head.
His men carried him to his house, shouting his name and raising him in the air. Emilio raised his hands in the air drunkenly as a sign of victory. One of his men said he looked like an upside down crab and all the men laughed. Emilio laughed, too. The men helped him inside his house, where he passed out on his bed and woke up the next morning feeling terribly sore. He slowly worked his way to his feet and toward the bathroom. Lying in his bathtub, with its tail in the faucet, was a large tuna fish. He laughed thinking of his men.
He discovered another fish in his toilet. He shook his head and laughed again. After removing the fish from the bathtub, he took a show and once he was finished he went back into his bedroom to find some clothes to wear. He opened his closet and discovered a tuna fish lopped over a clotheshanger. He ripped some clothes from his closet, quickly dressed and headed to the kitchen to fix some breakfast.
Every cabinet door he had opened had tuna fish behind it. His refrigerator had three mixed in with his vegetables. His oven had two, one on each rack. His blinds had one tied to them. Now he was enraged. He gathered up every fish he could find in his house and threw them out the window. When he was finished, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands and there was a fish in the sink. He picked to fish up, intending to throw it outside, and saw a large tuna fish lying in his bathtub again. He ran to his closet, then to his refrigerator and over and opened every cabinet in his kitchen and found that the tuna fish had been returned to the exact spot he had removed them from. He ran to his window and saw the original tuna still piled outside his window. He tore at his hair and made a small screeching noise.
Perhaps he was imagining it all. He wanted fresh air.
He opened his door and walked outside and a tuna fish was lying on his doorstep. He kicked it out of the way. On his walk to work he discovered tuna fish lying side-by-side along the sidewalk. Aboard of one his boats, he found tuna scattered over his maps, his radio and even tiny tuna stuffed inside his telescope. The glass wasn’t broken, the material didn’t appear altered. It was as if the tuna had been made with the tuna inside.
He called his crew, but may of them said they couldn’t make it until later as they were attending the funeral of Rosalie Penchillo y Allurío. José would be delivering the eulogy. Miffed at his crew and slightly interested to see José again, Emilio went to the funeral. He found them in the middle row, hands folded in front of their bodies, watching the ceremony reverently. The casket was closed. Word had been that her body had not been discovered for days and, in that time, the fish had severely disfigured her face.
Emilio thought José had aged tremendously. His sister’s death had been so sudden that, nearly over night, people said he gained twenty years worth of wrinkles. Emilio thought his speech was beautiful, nearly poetry, and everyone at the funeral cried, except Emilio. He eyed the casket suspiciously. If the word was insane, he thought, this couldn’t possibly be what it seems.
As the ceremony wound to a close and people approached the casket to pay their respects Emilio smelled something strange. Curious, he followed the smell and found it emanating from the coffin. He looked around to see if anyone else noticed it, but appeared no one did. After many of the people had passed by Rosalie’s casket, Emilio approached, holding his nose as the smell had become sickening. Everyone appeared preoccupied with each other and so, without making too much noise, he opened the casket up slightly, peered inside and screamed.
It was a tuna fish, a large tuna fish that took up the entire volume of the casket. Emilio did not see a hint of Rosalie.
He ran out of the church. People shouted after him, but he ignored them, running until he reached the harbor. Fish were now on the edge of the dock, floating in the sea and some were even lopped over the side of the boat like wet laundry. He climbed aboard the boat, removed all the fish from the captain’s quarter’s and locked the door. Pacing back and forth, he spoke to himself, trying to reason everything he had just seen. He wondered who would do such a thing to him, who was so malicious as to plan these things out so intricately.
The world, he thought to himself, really was insane.
At the back of his throat, he felt a pain and it surged forward, piece by piece until tears poured from his eyes and he crumbled to the floor in his boat. He cried for his mother, his father, Delo Muerte, his crew, Santería, their child, Rodrigo Allurío and Rosalie and José. He cried for the town of Puerta.
As he cried, tuna fish fell from the sky, slapping roofs and breaking windows, landing on cars and people, covering the streets and the yards in small gray bodies.
It rained tuna for nearly half-an-hour and it took a day-and-a-half to clean up.
A local weatherman said that a hurricane moving through the area had swept a large school of tuna from the Atlantic Ocean and dropped them on the people of the small fishing village Puerta on the shore of the Yucatan Peninsula.
While in town, a rumor circulated that the fish had been a miracle by the departing spirit of Rosalie Penchillo y Allurío, whom many had already begun to refer to as a saint.
Emilio Cortez was fourteen years a fisherman. He lived near the coast of the Yucatan Peninsula in a small apartment in the fishing town of Puerta. In his youth, he had lived in Chichen-Itza, a small traditional town near the center of the Peninsula, but he left home when he was sixteen in order to pursue a life as a fisherman as he disapproved of his father’s occupation of a drunkard and thief. His mother cried when he left, but he did not let it bother him. He had created a saying, long ago, to deal with such situations, formulating it during his father’s drunken tirades in order to keep the anger from penetrating his soul.
The world is insane, he would say to himself.
His mother’s cries were simply another voice in the cacophony of chaotic motion and frivolous destruction always happening within the world and the only solace Emilio found was in fishing.
Lying about his age, he was able to gain a spot on a tuna boat under the jurisdiction of Delo Muerte, a bald, fat and hairy man. His body was shaped like an eggplant and he was often vicious toward his men while at sea, but on shore he was a grandfather, a lovely old man who let small children climb up his back and play in the remnant of his black hair, scattered about his head like bushes in the desert. The locals loved him for his good humor, fascinating stories and roaring laugh. They often spoke of his smile, which was as wide as a halved watermelon.
Once Emilio had worked under Delo Muerte for a year and proven himself as a competent fisherman, he worked up the nerve to approach the balding ship captain about his dual natures. Because they were on land at the time, Delo Muerte was amiable to Emilio’s question. After having a few drinks with Delo Muerte, Emilio asked him how he separated his two lives, land and sea.
“No me recruedo,” he said, which means ‘I don’t remember’. “Yo soy, ‘no me recruedo’,” he repeated and smiled his watermelon grin.
That next summer, a terrible storm came through the area. At the time, Emilio had begun work on a crab boat part-time to gain experience. It was while he was sorting through crabs with his shipmates that a skinny man with a tuft of black hair and marble eyes rushed in and said that Delo Muerte’s ship had been found torn to pieces on the shore, but all the crew members were gone, including Delo Muerte.
The next day, Delo Muerte and two of his men washed up on shore. They were dead, seaweed had wrapped itself about their arms, legs and neck as if the ocean itself had tied them up and murdered them, presenting them to the fishermen on the shore as a warning.
At least, that’s how many people near Emilio talked.
Saddened by Delo Muerte’s death, Emilio stayed away from the sea for several weeks until an older man named Vicente Rosa came to his loft and introduced himself as Delo Muerte’s accountant. Vicente said Delo Muerte had named Emilio as his heir and that all of Delo Muerte’s possessions (including his business) now passed to Emilio. The thought of taking over Delo Muerte’s old business made Emilio sick to his stomach. He felt as if he was stealing from a dead man. Vicente said an alternative was for Emilio to accept the cash equivalent of all of Delo Muerte’s possessions. Yet, Emilio wished to fish and with Delo Muerte’s boat and business, he would be able to do it until he died. So, he said to himself under his breathe, the world is insane. Then, he inhaled deeply and agreed to take over Delo Muerte’s business.
Because Emilio had earned a good reputation while working under the late Delo Muerte, fishermen came in droves when they found out that he was captaining a ship. Among them was Lucien Amarado, Murion Entillada, Carravon Peses (also know as Carravon Grandé) and José Penchillo. They were the best fishermen in Puerta. José had known Emilio from time spent crabbing and an exceptional crabber José was: agile, handsome, kind and a talented guitarist. On Friday nights, he would join a local band to play tradition Puertan sailing songs, while people from the village waltzed and a little later, once all the older people had gone home, he would play songs from the radio as the younger crowd did the most provocative dances they could think of.
Emilio was there every night to support José, whom he called his brother.
José’s sister, Rosalie, was also there. She was the shortest of her family with the minutest hands of any girl in Puerta. Her father called her Copo de nieve, or Snowflake, as she was so small and quiet that he never heard her enter a room.
While everyone danced to José and his band’s music, Rosalie stayed in the corner. She did not come to dance, but to watch her brother.
Emilio did not come to dance either, but to watch Rosalie.
If asked, he would dance, but he never cared much for his partner. To him, they were all reflections of Rosalie.
When he was at sea, captaining Delo Muerte’s ship, his mind would drift to the shape of her face and he would find its pattern floating in the ocean or ingrained into the wood of the boat.
When he ate, he would imagine Rosalie across from him smiling.
When he slept, he would imagine Rosalie’s head resting on his chest.
He would be reminded of her through the most abstract matter, imagining his face lost in her hair as he leaned against one of the ship’s sails, or, more often than not, thinking of her arm resting in his as he held a limp tuna fish in his hands. His crew watched him, amused, as he caressed the tuna’s body and joked that he should be careful, women were wary of men that stroked their tuna too much.
He told them he was wary of paying crew who told bad jokes and they went back to work.
They didn’t know he was thinking of Rosalie. No one knew except Emilio. He kept his secrets hidden within himself as a crab within its shell.
Nonetheless, he studied Rosalie, learning everything he could about her through overheard conversations and discreetly interrogating José after work. Through these methods, he discovered her favorite color was purple, that she liked sliced grapefruit for breakfast, that she enjoyed reading horror comics, that her favorite smell was burning wood and, of course, that her father called her Copo de Nieve, Snowflake.
José never suspected anything, so it was without hesitation, during the early part of the year, that he told Emilio that Rosalie would be married to Rodrigo Allurío, a rich businessman who owned several large fishing boats.
Emilio’s throat became dry and heavy as if he was swallowing a large rock.
“Rosalie?” he said, gulping hard. José said Rosalie was his sister and Emilio apologized. He said he had forgotten José had a sister.
A week before Rosalie married Rodrigo, Emilio drank heavily until midnight, then, his eyes circling wildly, he stumbled from the bar in search of Santería, a prostitute he had once met through a friend. He paid her the equivalent of two weeks’ pay for one of his men and told her to perform as many sexual acts on him as she could before daybreak. Among those performed were Amarillo Huevos, Señor Juan, Enfadado Cantado, Dios Mio, Mexicanos Zapatos, Blanco Rojo and La Leche de Sonrisa three times as it was Santería’s specialty.
In the morning, Emilio asked her to marry him and Santería obliged him as he was considerably rich and she figured marriage would cleanse her of all past sins. They were married a day before Rosalie and Rodrigo. Emilio wanted no one at the ceremony, only a priest, so that Santería could feel cleansed.
The next day, Emilio snuck to the edge of Rodrigo Allurío’s property to watch the wedding. Even from a distance, he could see Rodrigo’s large grin as he cupped Rosalie’s hand in his. They were under a dome of flowers in front of a considerable group of people. Everyone was dressed in white and Emilio thought, from far away, it looked like a flock of seagulls had landed on Rodrigo’s lawn. Rodrigo kissed Rosalie and there was clapping. Rodrigo held her head gently, bringing her to and drawing her back from his mouth. Rosalie was smiling. Her face was flushed. She was happy.
Emilio felt tears stinging at the back of his eyes.
Before the reception, Emilio fled Rodrigo’s property and returned to his home. Santería was waiting for him. She had cooked her first meal and she wanted them to eat it together. Emilio obliged, sitting beside her at their dinner table. The meal was putrid. Everything was burned. Yet, Emilio said nothing and finished it all. He thanked her when he was finished. Santería giggled and said she would cook for him every night from now on. He had given her a new start and she pledged never step back into her former life, as Emilio Cortez had made her honorable. Emilio groaned quietly as he thought of eating another meal cooked by Santería.
After dinner, Emilio decided to take a walk by himself. Santería had pledged to clean the entire kitchen by herself. Emilio figured he would extend his walk so as to give her enough time. He stopped at the harbor where his boat was docked. His heart was heavy as a stone drifting to the bottom of the ocean. His body was tight as if all his muscles were on the verge of explosion. Climbing aboard his boat, he found a spot in the captain’s area where no one could see him and he fell to the floor, wailing like a dog. He cried for less than a minute when he abruptly stopped and stood, shaking his head at such foolishness and then thought, the world is insane.
That was that and he thought of Rosalie no more.
He hurried to his house and found Santería sweeping up the kitchen. He jerked the broom from her hand, took her by the arm into the bedroom and threw her on the bed and had the fiercest, angriest sex he had ever had. He felt he had ripped Santería in two. She would later tell him that that moment was the only time she had ever reached orgasm with a man.
The next time Emilio saw Rosalie was three years later and she was alongside Rodrigo as he was surveying the boats docked in the harbor, many of which were his. When Rodrigo waved to Emilio, Emilio waved back, but when Rosalie waved to him, he abruptly turned his head. When he turned back around Rosalie didn’t look phased at all. She still had a bright smile across her face. It made Emilio sick.
The next month Rodrigo Allurío was dead, killed as he was repairing on of his yachts. Although Rodrigo had never been the most popular man in Puerta, he was the richest, so his funeral was very ornate and heavily attended. He was buried on his property. Emilio did not attend the funeral, but watched it from the same spot as he had the wedding. Rosalie was dressed in black and José was beside her. He had asked Emilio to attend funeral, but Emilio told him he did not care for Rodrigo Allurío and did not want to attend. He made José so angry that they did not speak again.
After Rodrigo’s death Rosalie fell into a deep depression. She rarely ate and would periodically dress in the dress she wore to the funeral for days without changing or bathing. To see her so troubled made Emilio feel both saddened and elated.
Although he had never wished it to happen, Santería became pregnant. She said she imagined the child would be a great fisherman like Emilio. He asked her if she would abort the child, but Santería said she was through killing children and that she planned on having the child. She felt becoming a mother would bring her honor.
Rosalie inherited all of Rodrigo’s fortune, including his boats, his houses, his art collection and his horses and dogs. With Rodrigo’s death, Emilio saw his business skyrocket as Rosalie sold most of Rodrigo’s boats and put most of the money into the stock market. She had told Rodrigo’s family and her own that she would never marry again.
Emilio, although his business was thriving, had not caught a fish in nine months. Santería said it was because the child was destined to take his place, so his power was being transferred. Emilio said that was unfair. He should be allowed to have his power until he died. He felt the child should leave his property alone. Angry, he stormed out of the house and became drunk. On the wall behind him was a large portrait of Rodrigo Allurío, as he owned the bar. Emilio cursed Rodrigo, cursed Rosalie and, for good measure, cursed the baby was stealing his fishing powers. He asked for another drink and then cursed his mother, who had not talked to in ten years. Then, he laughed loudly and coughed coarsely, mumbling between hacking heaves that the world was insane. It was this thought that finally calmed him and he quickly pass out face-first on a bar table.
He was awoken early the next morning.
A man with wide eyes and a tuft of graying hair told him that his house had caught fire. A firefighter had run into save her, but as he was carrying to the door, the roof caved in killing both him and Santería.
Emilio cursed the house and ordered another drink. When the bartended asked him what the man had told him, Emilio said he told him that the world was insane.
The insurance on the house was enough to rebuild it and Emilio did so with a cold efficiency. He had his wife buried quickly with no elaborate ceremony. Many people assumed that the grief had been so intense that Emilio had drained of all emotion.
People worried about his mental state and, therefore, the state of his company. Yet, his company remained stable, but people said that Emilio did not.
He claimed the world was insane.
It was at a time when his business had never been better. Eight months after Santería’s death, Emilio’s fishing business had surpassed even Rodrigo Allurío’s former enterprise in size. Emilio’s demeanor had seemed to improve as well. He often strode the shoreline in warmer weather and greeted people with a warm smile. To everyone in town, he seemed like he had overcome the tendrils of his wife’s death. Yet, Emilio could not bear to be around people for more than a few hours before he hated them. He could not say why this was. It just was.
His frustration continued when he hit the two anniversary of his fishing slump. Although his business thrived and tuna surged into his nets in droves, he could not catch a fish on his own. It tugged deeply at his soul as fishing had been his passion. It kept him awake at night and he felt the only to deal with it was to dismiss it. It was natural runoff from an insane world.
Rosalie had long been dead to the people of Puerta, having locked herself inside her late-husband’s walled mansion and yard. Yet, she made it official when she killed herself on the tenth anniversary of Rodrigo Allurío’s death. When the news hit town, Emilio was on the sea with one his crews, releasing their nets for the final catch of the day and it was an extraordinary one. It was the best catch any of his ship had ever made. Emilio was exuberant. His men had never seen him so excited. Emilio promised to buy them all drinks once they got to shore. They thought he was excited because the catch had been so large, but Emilio was more excited because he felt the large catch symbolized that his slump was over. When he was returning to his home to change clothes, he was stopped by man with wide eyes and a tuft of thinning hair who told him that Rosalie had committed suicide.
“Cómo?” Emilio asked. The man told him she had drowned herself in a pool behind her house. Emilio contacted his men and told them he needed to call it off, yet when his men complained, Emilio suddenly felt foolish for acting so emotional about a woman who he barely knew. He said drinks were back on and throughout the night, whenever Rosalie would pop into his head, he would yell, hold his drink high in the air, toast his men, drink and order a round of whiskey for all of them.
Eventually, Rosalie was the faint reflection of an echo in his head.
His men carried him to his house, shouting his name and raising him in the air. Emilio raised his hands in the air drunkenly as a sign of victory. One of his men said he looked like an upside down crab and all the men laughed. Emilio laughed, too. The men helped him inside his house, where he passed out on his bed and woke up the next morning feeling terribly sore. He slowly worked his way to his feet and toward the bathroom. Lying in his bathtub, with its tail in the faucet, was a large tuna fish. He laughed thinking of his men.
He discovered another fish in his toilet. He shook his head and laughed again. After removing the fish from the bathtub, he took a show and once he was finished he went back into his bedroom to find some clothes to wear. He opened his closet and discovered a tuna fish lopped over a clotheshanger. He ripped some clothes from his closet, quickly dressed and headed to the kitchen to fix some breakfast.
Every cabinet door he had opened had tuna fish behind it. His refrigerator had three mixed in with his vegetables. His oven had two, one on each rack. His blinds had one tied to them. Now he was enraged. He gathered up every fish he could find in his house and threw them out the window. When he was finished, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands and there was a fish in the sink. He picked to fish up, intending to throw it outside, and saw a large tuna fish lying in his bathtub again. He ran to his closet, then to his refrigerator and over and opened every cabinet in his kitchen and found that the tuna fish had been returned to the exact spot he had removed them from. He ran to his window and saw the original tuna still piled outside his window. He tore at his hair and made a small screeching noise.
Perhaps he was imagining it all. He wanted fresh air.
He opened his door and walked outside and a tuna fish was lying on his doorstep. He kicked it out of the way. On his walk to work he discovered tuna fish lying side-by-side along the sidewalk. Aboard of one his boats, he found tuna scattered over his maps, his radio and even tiny tuna stuffed inside his telescope. The glass wasn’t broken, the material didn’t appear altered. It was as if the tuna had been made with the tuna inside.
He called his crew, but may of them said they couldn’t make it until later as they were attending the funeral of Rosalie Penchillo y Allurío. José would be delivering the eulogy. Miffed at his crew and slightly interested to see José again, Emilio went to the funeral. He found them in the middle row, hands folded in front of their bodies, watching the ceremony reverently. The casket was closed. Word had been that her body had not been discovered for days and, in that time, the fish had severely disfigured her face.
Emilio thought José had aged tremendously. His sister’s death had been so sudden that, nearly over night, people said he gained twenty years worth of wrinkles. Emilio thought his speech was beautiful, nearly poetry, and everyone at the funeral cried, except Emilio. He eyed the casket suspiciously. If the word was insane, he thought, this couldn’t possibly be what it seems.
As the ceremony wound to a close and people approached the casket to pay their respects Emilio smelled something strange. Curious, he followed the smell and found it emanating from the coffin. He looked around to see if anyone else noticed it, but appeared no one did. After many of the people had passed by Rosalie’s casket, Emilio approached, holding his nose as the smell had become sickening. Everyone appeared preoccupied with each other and so, without making too much noise, he opened the casket up slightly, peered inside and screamed.
It was a tuna fish, a large tuna fish that took up the entire volume of the casket. Emilio did not see a hint of Rosalie.
He ran out of the church. People shouted after him, but he ignored them, running until he reached the harbor. Fish were now on the edge of the dock, floating in the sea and some were even lopped over the side of the boat like wet laundry. He climbed aboard the boat, removed all the fish from the captain’s quarter’s and locked the door. Pacing back and forth, he spoke to himself, trying to reason everything he had just seen. He wondered who would do such a thing to him, who was so malicious as to plan these things out so intricately.
The world, he thought to himself, really was insane.
At the back of his throat, he felt a pain and it surged forward, piece by piece until tears poured from his eyes and he crumbled to the floor in his boat. He cried for his mother, his father, Delo Muerte, his crew, Santería, their child, Rodrigo Allurío and Rosalie and José. He cried for the town of Puerta.
As he cried, tuna fish fell from the sky, slapping roofs and breaking windows, landing on cars and people, covering the streets and the yards in small gray bodies.
It rained tuna for nearly half-an-hour and it took a day-and-a-half to clean up.
A local weatherman said that a hurricane moving through the area had swept a large school of tuna from the Atlantic Ocean and dropped them on the people of the small fishing village Puerta on the shore of the Yucatan Peninsula.
While in town, a rumor circulated that the fish had been a miracle by the departing spirit of Rosalie Penchillo y Allurío, whom many had already begun to refer to as a saint.
Angela Price
The fish looked around him. It was all so blurred; the whole world had melted around him and his bubble in the last five seconds. He couldn’t remember before that, he never could, but he knew it was different then. He swam around the castle, the lovely pink castle that had sprung up in the last five seconds, the only solid thing…..
There was an eye like a dinner plate, stretched…big pink worms pressed against the sides of the bubble and the water froze inside him. The monster, wanted to get to him. It tapped the bubble and the world shook around him. He turned and swam away and there it was…a tiny beautiful pink castle….sprung new and pink before him…the only solid thing…When had the whole world changed and left him alone with this relic? Maybe it would change back……..
The fish swam in complete darkness, he could just make out the distortion on the edge of the world and avoided it, barely…He pressed his lips against the side, maybe he could break free and the world would be there again…it must have been different once he must have had a time when he didn’t swim in circles…Then he saw something new and lovely, a pink palace. Was there anyone inside that tiny place that could help him…could tell him if he had always been so confused and alone in this darkness. And so hungry…
One of his eyes was useless. He supposed it had always been this way. He could feel it moving and whole but he saw nothing with it. The other eye watched the castle as he swam around it, inspecting it. It was so pretty, maybe if he turned the other way there would be more like it. He flicked his fins and twirled shaking his rump as he felt the flakes his the surface above him and he was happy, maybe that was food and maybe there would be something new to see when he finally turned….The world was blurred, the world was gone and when had this happened?
The fish could barley see at all. One eye was dead and he wondered when that had happened…it must have been so always but the world was blurring and all he could manage to focus on what the castle, it gleamed pink and purple. He couldn’t tell for sure but it must be melting too. Then he felt vibrations above him. Maybe if he swam up, there would be more castles that hadn’t melted yet, he went to the right and bumped against the edge of the world so he swam up and up.
The fish felt the world burst against his lips and he felt some new burning water and he looked below him and saw the blur that was the castle, just a brush stroke of pink. It was almost gone now, and he couldn’t remember for sure but he felt it had come from above one day. So maybe he would go there. Inside his dead eye there was nothing and as he burst through…
He was falling the world was gone…..something big was rushing to meet him, one eye could see it approaching the other saw nothing…he must have been falling forever he couldn’t remember anything else. The he hit and there was just the pain.
There was no air and he couldn’t move his tail. Everything was pain and always had been. He didn’t know why but he was sure he must have always been like this….there would be no end.
The fish’s dead eyes looked up from behind the dresser as the girl searched for him. She found him, dried out lying next to an old penny and a piece of popcorn. She was sad but it wasn’t a surprise. This was the fourth time her pet had tried to jump from his tank; she had always found him in time before. She would just have to go get another fish tomorrow. After all she had spent all that money finding the nicest bowl and the prettiest castle. The fish’s scales had been so lovely but now they were flaking off and his gills were brown instead of gold. She threw him in the trash and five minutes later she forgot him.
my mother is a firefighter, you see
in she charges,
my life in flames
and she swims through the blaze
like a
salamander in a pond
while i roll the dice
to see
what will be next to burn?
There was an eye like a dinner plate, stretched…big pink worms pressed against the sides of the bubble and the water froze inside him. The monster, wanted to get to him. It tapped the bubble and the world shook around him. He turned and swam away and there it was…a tiny beautiful pink castle….sprung new and pink before him…the only solid thing…When had the whole world changed and left him alone with this relic? Maybe it would change back……..
The fish swam in complete darkness, he could just make out the distortion on the edge of the world and avoided it, barely…He pressed his lips against the side, maybe he could break free and the world would be there again…it must have been different once he must have had a time when he didn’t swim in circles…Then he saw something new and lovely, a pink palace. Was there anyone inside that tiny place that could help him…could tell him if he had always been so confused and alone in this darkness. And so hungry…
One of his eyes was useless. He supposed it had always been this way. He could feel it moving and whole but he saw nothing with it. The other eye watched the castle as he swam around it, inspecting it. It was so pretty, maybe if he turned the other way there would be more like it. He flicked his fins and twirled shaking his rump as he felt the flakes his the surface above him and he was happy, maybe that was food and maybe there would be something new to see when he finally turned….The world was blurred, the world was gone and when had this happened?
The fish could barley see at all. One eye was dead and he wondered when that had happened…it must have been so always but the world was blurring and all he could manage to focus on what the castle, it gleamed pink and purple. He couldn’t tell for sure but it must be melting too. Then he felt vibrations above him. Maybe if he swam up, there would be more castles that hadn’t melted yet, he went to the right and bumped against the edge of the world so he swam up and up.
The fish felt the world burst against his lips and he felt some new burning water and he looked below him and saw the blur that was the castle, just a brush stroke of pink. It was almost gone now, and he couldn’t remember for sure but he felt it had come from above one day. So maybe he would go there. Inside his dead eye there was nothing and as he burst through…
He was falling the world was gone…..something big was rushing to meet him, one eye could see it approaching the other saw nothing…he must have been falling forever he couldn’t remember anything else. The he hit and there was just the pain.
There was no air and he couldn’t move his tail. Everything was pain and always had been. He didn’t know why but he was sure he must have always been like this….there would be no end.
The fish’s dead eyes looked up from behind the dresser as the girl searched for him. She found him, dried out lying next to an old penny and a piece of popcorn. She was sad but it wasn’t a surprise. This was the fourth time her pet had tried to jump from his tank; she had always found him in time before. She would just have to go get another fish tomorrow. After all she had spent all that money finding the nicest bowl and the prettiest castle. The fish’s scales had been so lovely but now they were flaking off and his gills were brown instead of gold. She threw him in the trash and five minutes later she forgot him.
my mother is a firefighter, you see
in she charges,
my life in flames
and she swims through the blaze
like a
salamander in a pond
while i roll the dice
to see
what will be next to burn?
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