Heretical Fishing

Chapter 36: Solution

As was becoming a welcome part of my morning routine, I woke up to a crab looming over me.

Sergeant Snips tapped my nose delicately with her claw, blowing bubbles that were instantly recognizable as a mix of excitement and pride. Her soft touch tickled, and I wiggled my nose.

“Morning, Snips.” I said around a yawn.

I rubbed the top of her carapace, causing her to sway with delight.

She made the gesture of shaking salt, a move I’d shown her to help our communication.

“The salt water is finished reducing?”

She nodded intently before jumping down from the bed.

I threw the sheets back and stood, enjoying the sensation of stretching the sleep from my body. “All right, Snips! Lead the way!”

I followed her out of the house, pausing a moment to take in the beautiful scenery as we exited the door into the predawn light

Sergeant Snips, knowing my mind and habits, paused before I did, taking in the river mouth before us with her lone eye.

There was a soft wind blowing, cooling my skin and causing small waves to kick up along the surface of the water. Gulls and pelicans flew above, coasting on the winds up high, letting their extended wings catch the updrafts and take them where they needed to go.

I breathed deep of the ocean spray in the air, sighing as I let it out with a growing smile. “What a beautiful morning, Snips.”

She bubbled in agreement, the rising sunlight causing her carapace to reflect a calming shade of pink.

“All right, let’s see this salt!”

She led me down to the fire, her steps slow and calm after our moment of mindfulness.

The flames were small, licking up from smoldering coals Snips had helpfully added.

I peered down in the pot. There was a white slurry in the bottom, and I stirred it with the spoon left by the fire; it was thick, most of the water having evaporated.

“This looks perfect, Snips!”

She bubbled happily as I praised her, petting the top of her head.

“All we need now is some trays for it to dry in . . .”

We went to the kitchen, collected four large baking trays, and returned to the campfire.

I picked up the pot of salt slurry and poured a quarter of the mixture into each tray. I dispersed it on the trays with the spoon, ensuring each layer of salt was uniform in its thickness.

“In a few days, we should have salt to add to our meals, Snips!”

She stared down at the trays with curiosity, her eye blinking as she contemplated my words.

“Should we go check the trap and see if we have some breakfast?”

She nodded vigorously, taking one last look at the trays of salt before we took off for the headland.

George, the lord of Tropica Village and all its surrounding lands, let out a weary breath as he finished swallowing his seventh pastry of the morning. His wife, Geraldine, rubbed his back with one hand, attempting to ease his troubled mind. George looked at her, and she sucked the sugar from the voluptuous fingers of her other hand before speaking.

“It’s going to be fine, George. We’ll make it work, as we always do.”

“I know, my love, it’s just . . . the future seems bleak, each option as unpalatable as the last.”

“We just take it one day at a time.”

She stood and walked behind him, rubbing his shoulders. “If we break the problem down into manageable bites, anything is possible. What’s troubling you now?”

George laughed hoarsely, the outburst sounding harsh to even his ears.

“Everything. Fischer is an existential threat and his plans seem as intricate as the finest of glazing.”

“Nonsense,” Geraldine said, her voice kind and soothing. “If he wanted to oust us, he would have done so already.”

“I know you keep saying that, but I’m just not so sure . . .”

She leaned down, resting her head atop his.

“Are you calling me a liar, George?”

“Never that, my love, it’s just . . . I don’t understand why he wouldn’t take our power.”

“Who knows? Whatever his plans are, they don’t involve removing us. We just need to focus on the things we can control.”

George sighed, leaning back into his wife.

“What can we even do?”

“Well, the first thing that comes to mind is the tithe. Fielday is our next collection, right? We need to adjust the tithe.”

“What if that’s playing right into Fischer’s plans? What if that was the goal of letting us know? How can we—”

Geraldine cut him off by leaning around and raising an eyebrow. “Maybe that is what he wanted, dear husband, but it won’t hurt us. The choice is between continuing to over-collect, or adjusting the tithe to the correct amount, as laid out by the crown.”

She caressed his cheek with a hand, her eyes turning fierce.

“We just have to play by the rules . . . for now, at least. That is what we can do.”

He nodded, but his stomach still twisted and churned, stirred by uncontrolled thoughts of Fischer and his machinations.

With a belly full of crab and the sun rising about the eastern horizon, I walked between rows of sugarcane. I held my hand out as I passed, letting the long leaves flow over and around my hand. It was grounding, and I focused entirely on the sensation as I looked for my neighbor. I had no path in particular; I knew I’d find him eventually, and I was happy to wander through the fields of sugarcane.

An odd sound broke through my trance as I traveled, and I paused, cocking my head. Following the sound, I walked between rows, eventually stepping out into an open field. Barry was hunched over, shuffling backward as he slammed a single hand down into the soil repeatedly. As I got closer, I realized he had some sort of one-handed hoe, and he was shifting the soil at an impressive speed.

“Damn, Barry! You got some moves!”

He jumped, spinning his head to stare at me. “Oh, Fischer! You startled me!” he said with a laugh.

I smiled back. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to spook you.”

“It’s okay.” Barry straightened up, stretching his back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a morning visit from our heretical fisherman?”

I laughed at the title and walked closer to join him.

“I actually wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Well, I spoke to Maria yesterday—she said they were struggling to make ends meet with their limited fields.”

Barry nodded, a morose smile coming to his face. “Aye, crop rotation issues? I was worried when I saw them planting wheat and cane again . . .”

“Yeah, mate—that’s what she said.”

Barry wiped his brow despite not seeming to have a single drop of sweat on him.

“What do you want my help with? I’m happy to assist where I can, but we don’t really have enough fields to spare with how many mouths we have to feed . . .”

“Oh, no, not that!” I held my hands up in a halting gesture. “I don’t want you to sacrifice, but I had another idea that might work.”

Barry cocked his head, his brows furrowing.

“What is it?”

“Well, you said you could help me grow crops on my sandy soil, right? Now, I’m still as heretical as ever, and have absolutely zero interest in doing so, but I thought if I offered for them to use my land . . .”

“Oh!” Barry’s eyebrows shot up in comprehension. “You want me to help them with setting up the fields? I—”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off before he could voice his inevitable concerns. “It’s a lot to sign you up for, but I’d be happy to help you with—”

“Fischer.” Barry cut me off right back, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’d be more than happy to help them do that. I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

Gratitude flooded me, and I let my genuine feelings take over my face.

“Thank you, Barry. You’re a good bloke.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A good bloke . . . I’m going to assume that’s a good thing?”

A laugh burst from my throat. “Yeah, it’s a good thing.”

He grinned back at me. “That’s good—I was worried I’d have to chase you off my land.”

I shook my head, smiling back. “There is one issue with my plan, though . . .”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Roger.”

Barry nodded and winced, clearly understanding. “Best to go through Maria, then—explain yourself to her and let her worry about Roger.”

“Good idea, mate. I’ll go grab a coffee and pastry now and see if I can’t find her.”

“A good plan. I’ll be in this field or the one behind me if you need any help.”

“Cheers, Barry—I’ll come back later and let you know how it went.”

“G’day, Sue!”

The woman at the bakery spun, giving me a beatific smile. “Fischer! What will you have this morning?”

I held up the mug of coffee I’d already retrieved. “I reckon my usual pastry would pair perfectly with this!”

She nodded along with a conspiratorial smile. “I think you may be right . . .”

She bent down, grabbing a croissant and putting it in a paper bag.

“You know, Fischer, I won’t be offended if you still drink the coffee from the north side when the machine gets delivered. I understand my coffee might not be as good as theirs . . .”

“Sue!” I held a hand to my chest in mock affront. “I’m appalled! I’ll be having your coffee exclusively, thank you very much!”

She smiled, but her brows remained tight. “I’m just saying, I don’t want you to feel you have to, even if it’s not as good . . .”

“Listen, Sue, if your coffee has even a tenth as much love put into it as your baked goods do, it will be the best coffee this world has ever seen.”

Her knitted brow relaxed. “You flatter me, Fischer.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, Sue. I think your coffee is gonna be a massive hit.”

She passed me the pastry, and I took a bite. It was still warm, and the buttery layers melted in my mouth, causing me to let out a groan of pleasure.

“Good lord, Sue—your husband is a wizard with his hands.”

She grinned lasciviously. “You have no idea . . .”

I coughed, choking on the pastry. I had to wash it down with coffee as Sue’s cackle rolled out over the street.

“Sue! How indecent!”

“Ah, thank you, Fischer. I needed that laugh.”

I shook my head, taking another sip of coffee to soothe my throat.

“Have you seen Maria this morning, by the way?”

Sue quirked an eyebrow and looked behind me. I spun to see Maria, her own eyebrow raised high, her lip curling into a smile.

“What’s a girl to think when she’s being asked about after the conversation you just had?”

I sighed dramatically. “You’re both as bad as each other!”

They both burst into laughter, Maria’s giggle light and lilting compared to Sue’s boisterous roar.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I said, “but it can wait until after you get your breakfast.”

Maria stepped up to the counter, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she shot me a sidelong glance. “Just the usual please, Sue.”

Sue collected two pastries from beneath the counter and handed them to Maria.

“Are you okay to be left alone with this scoundrel, Maria?”

Maria gave me an assessing look. “I think he can be trusted . . .”

I rolled my eyes, smiling at the theatrics.

“Well,” Maria said, “thanks for the pastries. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sue.”

“See you then!”

I gave Sue a nod as Maria and I left, and she shot me a wink.

“So?” Maria asked as we walked west toward her crops. “What did you want to ask me?”

I took a sip of coffee, delighting in the flavor and warmth.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, and I think I may have a solution of sorts.”

She glanced at me, a slight bit of suspicion crossing her features. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have a lot of unused land, right? It’s sandy and not ideal, but Barry offered to help me try farming it if I wanted to. I only care about fishing, so I don’t, but if you want to . . .”

She stopped walking, blinking rapidly.

“Are . . . are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“Well, that depends—if you think I’m saying you can farm the land for free, then yes. If you’re thinking I’m offering for you to join me in maligning yourself to the absent gods and fishing, then also yes, but I get if that’s not your—”

Maria slammed into me, hugging me tight and stopping my river of words in their tracks.