Net of Blood

by Selmoore Codfish

Chapter 3

  The next morning I ate breakfast and then walked towards New Truro. I’d put on plain everyday clothes, since even on Sunday, the people didn’t dress up.

  I knew it was Monday, but it didn’t feel like it. I was out of my normal routine that gave the day context. Also, I realized that the only times that I’d looked at my watch was when I was in Fusang and wanted to know when to eat. The people in New Truro had no watches. I could guess the approximate time of day by looking at the position of the sun. That was probably what they did because they had no reason to know the exact minute. I put my watch on anyhow.

  As I headed up the hill past the bamboo stalks, I noticed a person coming down the hill. A couple minutes later I could see that it was a young man. He walked quickly as I went slowly. He looked familiar from Sunday, but I didn’t know his name.

  “Hello,” I said as we got close. I stopped to talk.

  “Hello,” he replied.

  “I’m Neal.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m Roger Aji.” He slowed down. He looked twenty-five years old.

  “Where are you headed?” I asked.

  “Work,” he said. “I am at the Cannery Monday through Saturday.”

  I nodded.

  “Do any other Kupe work in Fusang?”

  He shook his head. He looked distracted. I didn’t want to keep him from his job, so I didn’t say anything else and he continued on his way.

  The sky was clear and the sun was already warming the day. The wind was still, so it didn’t cool me as I walked. I thought about wading in the waters of the inlet ahead.

  Roger walked six miles roundtrip every day to his job. It didn’t seem necessary since the village looked self-sufficient. I wondered why he made the daily trip. For my second day in a row, I was doing the same thing as him but backwards. My motivation for the walk was to solve a problem for my employer. However, the villagers didn’t seem to believe that not having a priest was the end of the world.

  Also, I wanted to go to New Truro for my own benefit. Talking with James had sparked me to bring out some troubling thoughts that I’d had. Maybe I’d benefit more from visiting the people than they’d gain from me.

  As I approached the village, I saw that a few small boats were on the water. The people were probably fishing. Also, I saw a group of boys on the side of the hill where there was a spring. They weren’t doing much when I passed them.

  I didn’t see James, so I headed to his house. There were no glass in the windows and the doors were haphazardly left open, so when I got close, I called in.

  “Hello,” I said loudly.

  A girl came to the door. She was about five years old, which was a couple years older than Melanie. Her mother, Lydia, came behind her.

  “I’m Anna,” said the girl. “You are Neal.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Then to her mom she said, “I was hoping it was old father Keoni.”

  “Is James here?” I asked.

  “No,” said the girl.

  “He’s fishing,” added Lydia. I nodded.

  “Do you know when he returns?” I asked.

  “When he’s done catching fish,” said the girl.

  I smiled at her. She had a simple logical answer, but I wanted to know what time. Lydia didn’t add any detail, so I assumed Anna’s answer was good enough.

  “Should I wait?” I asked.

  “It is up to you,” said Lydia. I nodded. When I didn’t say anything else, they went back into the house. I overheard hem talking in another language. Their tone sounded like the mother was instructing the girl how to do something.

  I stood for a moment then decided to sit. The edge of their porch was a good place to rest. From there, I looked out over the water. I couldn’t tell if any of the people fishing were James. The older ones were farther out beyond the inlet. Two boys shared a boat that was a little closer.

  With nothing to do, I sat silently watching the waves. It was as if I was asleep with my eyes open. My mind was quiet, only being aware of the sea. I didn’t look at my watch, but as I sat there the sun rose higher in the sky by length of a hand.

  Then, I noticed a woman approaching. My attention snapped out of my wave-watching and smiled at her.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hello,” I said.

  Anna came out.

  “Look what mother showed me, Clara,” said the girl. She held up a doll made of folded strips of leaves. It was probably made from a palm.

  “That is good,” said Clara. “Is it someone special?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Anna.

  “Oh,” said Clara. She smiled. I saw two more women approach from neighboring houses.

  “It’s a warm day,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Clara, “and it is still the morning.” We remained quiet as the other women walked up. Then they introduced themselves as Lucy and May. Lucy was the oldest.

  “Charles said that he enjoyed meeting you yesterday,” said Clara.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Is he around?” I thought I could ask him a few questions, James was slow returning.

  “I have no idea where he’s at. He disappeared early.” I nodded.

  Lydia finally came to the door to greet her guests, and one more woman showed up. She turned out to be Abigail. I stood so I wasn’t the only one sitting.

  “How is old mother holding up?” asked Clara to Lydia.

  “Fine,” she replied. They looked back at me.

  “Edgar said that you eat food from a can,” said Lucy, “because you can’t fish.”

  “Yes,” I said, “but we heat it up first, and put it on a plate.”

  “Can’t your wife cook?” asked Lucy. “Can she get fish from her neighbors?” She had a sly look on her face.

  “She can cook and so can I,” I said. “The food we eat comes from lots of places around the world. Such as fish from the ocean, and fruit and vegetables from southern countries. There’s not much that grows near where we live but lots and lots of corn.”

  “Oh,” said May.

  “You must like corn,” said Lucy.

  “I do, but not as much as I used to,” I said.

  “Yes, too much of one thing,” concluded Lucy. Her voice had a superior sounding tone.

  “He looks healthy. His food must work well for him,” said Clara.

  “Anyhow, women, come in,” invited Lydia. They advanced into the house. I heard them say hello to Makelesi, the older woman. Then they talked in another language to her. I didn’t want to listen to them so I walked past the church and the water well to the shore. Near the church, a small group of teen boys just stood around, not talking or doing anything.

  In the water, I still couldn’t see anyone clearly but the boys. They were swimming.

  I waded in the water. While moving around, I looked at the black sand mixed with light colored shells.

  The water was clear and I didn’t see any fish. However, as I approached the outlet for the spring I saw guppies swimming together. The small creek also had lots more plant life in it. The creek seemed to be a more likely place to catch fish, although relative to the sea, it was much smaller.

  I waded back to where my shoes were then I sat in the shallow water. A man was rowing closer. It looked like James.

  When he pulled his boat onto the sand, I went to offer help, but he had already finished doing it by the time I was close. He pulled a spear and a string of yellow fish out of the boat. Each fish was a foot-long.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Good morning,” replied James.

  “Do you often spearfish?” I asked. His spear was a bamboo pole with metal trident.

  “Yes, the men prefer it. You can pick what you want to eat. It is not as random as pole fishing, although it doesn’t seem to matter recently.” He held up his string of fish.

  “You didn’t want that one?”

  “No,
Yellow Snapper gets tiresome,” he said.

  “Kind of like corn,” I said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, I was telling the women there is lots of corn where I live.” He nodded.

  “Well, this is lunch,” said James. “Did you eat?”

  “No,” I said. It looked like a lot of fish for his lunch, so I didn’t think I’d be causing a hardship.

  He led me up a path that wasn’t directly to his house. When he approached one house, a girl came out.

  “Give this to your mama,” he said as he handed two fish. The girl went back with them. Then, James approached another house and left one fish on the porch.

  “You give your fish to others,” I said.

  “This couple is older, and they didn’t produce any sons,” he said. “Edgar would feed them, but he and Winslow wanted to go further along the island today. I also need to give Lucy a couple.”

  “She was with Lydia earlier,” I said. He nodded.

  We walked to James’ house.

  “Lucy,” he called. “Do you want your lunch?” She came out, saw him. He gave her two fish that left two for his wife. Lydia took them and the other women went home.

  James sat on the porch and I joined him. I heard kitchen noises from behind.

  “Was it a long walk for you today?” he asked.

  “It seemed quicker. Maybe I am adjusting to it,” I said.

  “Oh,” he said. He picked up his spear that was leaning against the column and took it in. I thought I should follow him since we were having a conversation.

  He suspended the shaft on hooks above the door. It was awkward for him as I was just coming behind him. Another one hung there which looked more traditionally handmade.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  The house seemed to be just two rooms, a main front room, and a back kitchen. Anna played with doll in the living room while sitting on the floor. Lydia and Makelesi were in the kitchen.

  The living room had several wooden chairs as the only furniture. At the end of the room was a shelf with several carved figures, a few books, and a couple pieces of coral.

  I followed James back to the porch. It seemed a good place to sit. Other than the chairs inside, it was the only other choice. The height of the porch was just right to dangle legs to the ground below. The earth below had been packed hard with generations of feet resting upon it.

  “Fusang is much different than here,” I said.

  “Bigger,” he said. I would have said less tiny.

  “Also the Sheng are not as open,” I said. “They don’t welcome me the same way as you. It’s hard for me to think of you two groups as one people.”

  Lydia brought out two plates. It had fried fish and cut fruit.

  “Thank you,” I said. We started to eat. James’ sons, Ward and Ben, appeared on the path leading to their home. Either they saw or smelled the food, or just had an internal clock which told them lunch was probably ready.

  They got plates and joined us.

  “We welcomed the Sheng as our own family,” said James. “We call them cousins, not brothers as we call the Kupe.” The boys paid attention to his father as he spoke.

  “Did you share food with them?” I asked.

  “Yes, but it was difficult to do regularly since we lived across the island. It was only special occasions.”

  I nodded.

  “Then when the colonialists arrived the Sheng became jealous of our favored status. They didn’t accept gifts anymore—at least that is what tradition says.”

  “You’ve mentioned colonial times,” I said. “What was it like then?”

  “We were a small outpost,” replied James. “Then before my time President Xing’s father stirred the Sheng against colonial rule. He broke us free. However, we had such minor status by then. In the age of modern shipping, we have become insignificant, so it was likely that nobody even noticed we were suddenly gone. No full-blooded colonialists lived here by that time, anyhow.”

  The boys ate fast. Another young man walked up to the house. He looked to be in his early twenties.

  “Nicholas,” said Ward, “what are we going to do?”

  “It’s hot. Let’s swim,” said Nicholas.

  “He’s Charles’ son,” said James. I nodded to him. The teens left and Ben followed behind. After they were down the path, I spoke again.

  “I like how you give food to everyone,” I said. “It reminds me of what Gei Duk did. He fed the hungry. I didn’t know how hungry I was until I tasted your food.” He laughed.

  “Yes, he fed them fish,” said James. “It is the symbol of the church. I feel that Gei Duk led a life very much like ours. He spoke to thousands of the simple people. They did not bring food with them, but one boy who had a few fish fed them all.”

  “They must have been very big fish,” I said.

  “Yes.” He laughed.

  “…or it is really a story about thousands being inspired to share,” I added. He thought about that and nodded. I paused before talking again. Life here was slow paced and we were in no hurry.

  “I doubt that the people in Fusang share food with each other,” I said.

  “Yes and no,” he replied. “We are more similar than you think.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “We share the same ideals, such as supporting the whole village. We do it because it reflects on our ancestors. They built these homes, and we have their faces. Our success or failure as a community is their success or failure. Our father’s blood is on these boards and our mother’s milk is in our stomachs. Our ancestors are here every moment watching over us. The Sheng believe this too.”

  Lydia came to get our plates.

  “Fusang has the problem that it is too big,” James continued. I didn’t think that it was big. “They don’t know each other’s lives well. You can’t be close family with 1,000 people. It is too easy to let people fall through gaps.

  “Therefore, they have to use laws to clearly state expectations. They make all able-bodied people contribute their efforts to the community. Some of them fish, some tend the land, and some work in the cannery.”

  “I met a man that works there, Roger,” I said.

  “Yes,” said James.

  “Why does he work there if it isn’t his responsibility?”

  “He’s trying out a different life.”

  “Do they pay him? It is a communist system.”

  “Yes, they pay,” said James. “They pay all of the workers, but it is very low. The profits from the cannery support the people in Fusang, and President Xing.”

  “It sounds like they don’t value his work,” I said.

  “I hope they value him,” said James. “Here we value all people equally. Even if they are unable to fish for themselves, they still deserve to eat. Here we call it communal living, but in Fusang they call it communism. In church, we call it communion. It is the same word. They all mean one thing: sharing.”

  “I don’t see how it is the same idea,” I said.

  “The Sheng have had to make sacrifices to make it work,” James said. “That really makes it look unlike New Truro.”

  “It is much different in Fusang than here,” I said.

  “Undoubtedly,” said James.

  Anna came to the door. She looked at the inlet. Half the town was in the water.

  “Momma, everyone is swimming,” she said.

  “Okay, see if Daddy can take you,” said Lydia.

  “Come,” said James to the girl. She ran ahead as James and I walked slowly behind.

  Anna found friends and was already splashing by the time we got to the water. We waded for a while. Most people swam near the shore, but the boys dove from boats.

  “There are Winslow and Edgar,” said James. When they rowed to shore, we joined them. A couple other men headed that way too.

  “What did you catch?” Charles asked.

&nbs
p; “Nothing good,” replied Winslow. “We brought back only a few grouper.” They were larger fish.

  “Are you trying a new way of catching them?” Charles asked with a humorous tone. He pointed at one fish with the spear wound in the tail.

  “That was Edgar,” replied Winslow.

  “I’ve been worried today,” said Edgar. “The spirits of the fathers are not with me.”

  “Did you have to fight it long when you missed the kill shot?” asked James.

  “I even let go of the spear,” said Edgar. “I had to chase this guy over the reef to retrieve him. Luckily, he swam in circles.”

  “I bet it was really tiring to chase it, fight it then row all the way back,” said James.

  “Yeah,” said Edgar.

  “…and just for a grouper,” said Charles. “At least go for a manna fish if you want a rewarding race.”

  “We didn’t see a single one,” said Winslow.

  “Not one?” asked James.

  “No,” said Winslow. “We stopped all along the coast just to check and see.”

  “It’s a bad sign,” said Edgar.

  “Do you usually see them?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Edgar. “We usually see several, and if we hunted them, we could snag one or two. However, there have been fewer recently.”

  “Mostly grouper and snapper,” said Winslow.

  I was concerned about overfishing. Maybe they’d eaten all the manna fish, whatever that was.

  “What has changed recently? Have you been taking more fish than in the past?” I asked.

  “No, we are a stable population,” said James. “We’ve always done things the same way.”

  “The cannery is new,” said Winslow. “The President sells what should be free.” The men nodded.

  “Is the cannery new?” I asked.

  “No, but its productivity was very low before. They’ve recently sped it up,” said James. Maybe that was why they needed Roger’s labor.

  We stood thinking. Elias kicked the sand around. I’d noticed he didn’t say much.

  “It can’t be Xing’s boats,” said Charles. “They fish in the deep sea, and catch different sorts of fish. We don’t even see their boats when they are out.”

  “Then he is poisoning our fish,” said Winslow. “Maybe he wants us to all work in his factory.”

  “How?” asked Charles. “We never see him with poison.”

  “Sometimes his charter boats come close,” said Winslow. Charles nodded and looked down as if he was thinking about it.

  “It must be the forefathers,” said Edgar. We must have offended them.”

  “What did we do?” asked James. “We had stood for their values and for their faith even when it costs us one of our own.”

  “We know you suffer,” said Charles.

  “We are all guilty of offending the ancestors,” said Edgar. I thought Edgar was dwelling too much on the problems.

  “You look tired, Edgar,” said James. “Can I carry the fish for you?”

  “Yes,” said Edgar. “One to here, and here.” He pointed at a couple houses.

  “Come,” said James to me. He handed me a large fish, then we walked up the path and distributed them.

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m missing information,” I said. “For example, you mentioned consequences that you’ve suffered for your faith.”

  We walked, but he said nothing. I didn’t think that he was going to reply to my questions.

  “The whole village has suffered,” he said. “Their ‘old father,’ Leoni, who is my own father, has been taken by Xing.”

  “Oh,” I said, “why?”

  “As the eldest, he is our voice. It is his responsibility to stand up to the President, so Xing took him to punish us for our crime.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. He nodded.

  We headed back to the shore. Edgar was still there sitting on his boat, but the men were dispersed to their own families. Winslow’s fish dangled over his own boat.

  I stood in the cool water. I made swirls in it with my hands. The waves were very low in the inlet but higher out past the end of the inlet.

  It was harder for me to walk away now that I knew their leader was in prison. Their problem was not only whether their way of communion satisfied church officials. They also had real hardship.

  In President Xing’s communist Fusang, no one had individual rights. His rationale was that collective human rights were more important. One person’s wish to pray was outweighed by society’s need for conformity.

  Xing felt that any doubt could upset orderly society. However, it looked like he was the one that benefited from keeping things like they were. The people obeyed his wishes. He was the one that got to watch cartoons all day. Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if the cannery profits were secretly held in a bank elsewhere.

  I thought back to their national flag. It was a patch of cloth with several long loose strips flapping behind. It reminded me of an octopus—one head, but eight legs to support it. Xing was the head, and the people were the legs.

  New Truro was opposite of Fusang. The decisions appeared to be made on an ad hoc basis while considering the effects on people they had commitments to.

  The boys made noise as they splashed and played. Then their activity sounded more like yelling. A few people looked out to where they were on boats a few hundred feet away.

  Suddenly, they were screaming. More people looked at them. Then they screamed again.

  “Maganta,” someone closer yelled. That got everyone’s attention. Everyone froze in fear.

  Some pointed out to the boys. There was a large fin in the inlet. It came out of the water between the boys and us.

  “Maganta,” people repeated. Others said, “Shark.”

  “Come ashore,” some adults started yelling. Mothers grabbed children. A mess of bodies ran out of the water, kicking water as they ran. It was as if a tidal wave struck the beach.

  I got out of the water quickly, too. I feared for myself, and then for the boys.

  “Come ashore,” yelled a man I hadn’t met.

  They couldn’t come. The shark was between the boys and the beach. One boy swam towards their boat.

  “Stay still,” yelled another man. “Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

  I counted five boys in the water. Two more were sitting in the boats.

  People on the shore counted their own children and knew if theirs were at risk.

  Parents of the trapped boys began screaming to their sons in the water. Some people went to each of the parents nearby to soothe them. I didn’t notice any one in particular. I was concentrated at the shark. I wanted to see if he turned towards the boys.

  One father, Elias, ran to the boats near me. He grabbed a spear. He was going to launch it and chase the shark.

  “It is Maganta,” said Charles. “It is the boat swallower.” He held his hands up to motion Elias to stop.

  I thought it was a tough choice to make. First, Elias could take a chance that the shark wouldn’t attack the boys including his son. Second, he could throw himself at the monster and most likely sacrifice himself.

  The shark did turn. It wasn’t headed directly at the boys, but possibly circling them and sizing them up.

  We all watched it swim. It felt like an hour but was just one minute.

  The shark continued straight and headed for the sea. When it was not far past the boys, one boy, and then all of them, swam to the boats. If it was a boat swallower, and if the noise had drawn its attention, then it could now turn and get three boys in a single bite.

  However, the shark continued swimming further from shore. The boys started paddling to the beach.

  I noticed that James and his whole family were together. I stepped closer to them.

  “Ward,” said James, “walk along the shore and see that Maganta doesn’t return.” The teem grabbed a spear as if he was going to
fight it. Maybe it was more for his courage. Then he walked quickly along the shore with it. A few teens ran to catch up with him.

  As the boats landed on the sand, it was helter-skelter in the water. Families were rejoining and hugging each other. Many walked away from the water. Others stayed. The shark wasn’t visible, but the boys followed it still.

  Ben, Ward’s youngest son, teased Anna.

  “Do you dare me to go in the water?” Ben asked her.

  “Yes,” she said. He touched his toe to it, and then pulled it back.

  “There,” he said. “Now you.” Anna touched her toe to the water than ran up the sand to mom.

  “Do you dare me again?” asked Ben.

  Anna shrugged. Ben went knee deep into the water and came back out.

  “Now you,” he said.

  “Mom,” said Anna.

  “Ben, come here,” demanded Lydia. He walked to her.

  “You are embarrassing your father and forefathers,” she said. “They don’t want you to make your sister afraid.”

  Ben dropped his head as he was scolded.

  “Sorry,” he replied.

  Then Lydia and Anna played in the sand. Other people looked calmer and started doing their routines again.

  “Do you see many sharks?” I asked James. A couple other men neared to join the conversation.

  “Yes, every day,” he replied.

  “There are probably a hundred out there. He spread his arms over a wide section of the sea.”

  “Wow,” I said, “that is a lot.”

  “Those are little sharks,” said Edgar. “We were visited by Maganta.”

  “What is Maganta?” I asked.

  “He’s the Old Father shark. The ancestors called him a god. He’s meaner than anything and will rip a boat to pieces out of spite,” said Edgar.

  “That’s bad,” I said. “Are the other sharks dangerous too?” I asked.

  “Not so much,” said Charles. “Every fish in the sea has teeth, not just sharks. They could all do damage if they wished.”

  “Some of the little fish don’t have teeth,” said James.

  “Oh,” said Charles.

  “Maganta is a different type of shark; usually he lives off the South Rock Point. He likes the strong currents there,” said Winslow.

  “Why does Maganta think he can come here if he never came here before?” asked Edgar. “Why does he think he can do it?”

  “I don’t know why,” replied James.

  “We must have let our guard down. The ancestors must be unhappy. We are not finding good fish, and then my hand shakes when I have my spear. This also must be from them.”

  “Everything has gone bad at once,” added Winslow. “Something has brought us bad luck fishing.” Winslow and Edgar looked at me.

  “The ancestors know we have a bad fisherman among us,” said Edgar. “They won’t send manna fish to us now.”

  It was the only time I felt unwelcome.

  “What are you saying?” James asked Edgar in a challenging tone.

  “Maganta must know, too. He is flaunting himself showing that he is king of the sea.”

  “We can’t talk about guests that way,” said James.

  “Okay,” said Edgar, “but how am I to get my steady shot back?”

  “Let’s drink some juice, calm down, and talk about it,” said Charles. He put his arm around Edgar and then walked away. Elias quietly followed.

  “It’s been a tough time,” said Charles to Edgar. “The fishing, the shark, Keoni…”

  Winslow picked his string of fish off his boat.

  “I can help you,” said James to him.

  They were going their separate ways, and I needed to give them time to talk. Also, it would be coming close to suppertime and I didn’t want to impose any more.

  “I think I’ll go to the hotel now,” I said to James. “I’ll check back on you tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”

  I started walking up the road.

  Edgar was the only one that had implied that I was causing the bad fishing. James and Charles were trying to say that I wasn’t a problem. I’m sure that I didn’t cause their struggles, especially since I arrived after it had started. Time would tell if one side would convince the others. I didn’t want to be divisive, so unless they could accept me, I wouldn’t stay.

  Normally they were in agreement. I hadn’t seen any rivalries or disputes in my couple days with them. In a place where they each provided food for the whole community, it was important to get along.

  In Fusang, they valued cohesion too. However, there the decisions were handed down by the President. There, Sheng had a strong pressure to conform, but for the Kupe it was more like, ‘Hey, buddy, we need to work this out.’

  I thought that people in Fusang had no freedom of expression. They were all controlled by someone such as the President, a father, husband, or in the case of the hotel waitress, she was controlled by her boss.

  I supposed having a lack of choice had some benefits. For example, if what you needed was always provided to you, then it wasn’t necessary to be able to choose it.

  Was it an ego issue? Did we really need choice? In reality, many decisions were made for me. I had to drive a car to work because the schools near work weren’t good, so I had to live elsewhere. It was too far to bike to everyday, and the city didn’t support good transit. Society had decided that I had to drive a car. I had no alternatives but to accept that place in society.

  Having a car didn’t help me now, trudging up the hill. Despite that, I was beginning to like my long walks.

  I felt that it was unthinkable to show individualism in Fusang, but was possible in New Truro. Both places had pressure to conform, but the Kupe each had opinions and they could speak up about them. However, eventually they had to compromise, and to control their ego if they were going to live together.

  What is ego? It is seeking things that I want. One thing that I wanted was proof of Gei Duk’s resurrection. It would ease my worries to see the truth clearly.

  To spend my time worrying about resurrection meant I was interested more in myself than in others. It seemed greedy to focus on it. Instead, I should have been asking how Gei Duk would try to help the Kupe.

  I wondered how the Kupe would deal with the issue of resurrection. They had talked about their forefathers as if they were alive and watching over the people. On the other hand, James said the ancestors were still around because their blood and milk was in him. Those ideas didn’t seem consistent.

  * * * *