SHEHRYAR SARWAR
Aloysious grips the prow and drags the boat up Anse beach, as he has done almost daily for the past ten years. Two other fishermen half-push half-carry the other end. Today’s catch is not good, and this is after four gruelling hours in rough seas, further out than he has ever gone. As on most days, he has promised his entire catch to Mama Agnes, who while offering fisherfolk the benefit of quick sale for the community’s weekly fish fry, maintains exacting standards about size and type of fish she accepts.
The village of Anse La Raye lies about an hour’s drive south of the capital, past the banana and sugar cane valleys, along the island’s west coast. A quiet place, proud of its fisher community and of its hospitality. Its weekly fish fry, overseen by Mama Agnes and open to many other sellers and stall owners, attracts some reliable clients from the capital looking for a Friday night party away from the big city bustle, and a small number of tourists, all mingling with the locals. Its broad pier dominates the seashore, and along the beach on either side are moored rows of wooden boats, many painted in bright primary colours. They bear names like Yes Aye, The Big Catch, and his own Helen of the West. Helen for short.
Aloysious pulls out the net, nodding to the others who now go their ways, and shakes the silvery fish trapped among its folds. There are some more at the bottom of the boat. He scoops these into the plastic pail that he will carry over to Agnes’ hut, not far from his landing spot.
Mama Agnes empties out his pail across her filleting counter and takes a long look at the fish, poking at some, lifting and squeezing others.
“Tha’ is all? Every week you catchin’ less and less. And look how they small small!” She picks up a particularly tiny specimen, dangles it before him, before flicking it into a large bucket by her side containing discarded fins and scales.
He fidgets and does not meet her stare. “Yeah, tha’ is all. I goin’ out fur’der than before you know; but tha’s all dey have in de sea.”
She turns to him. “‘All dey have in de sea?’” she mocks. “You serious man? Alfred and Foster, dey get more than that. Much more.”
“Is two a dem,” he counters. “If Ezekiel here we woulda ketch more. He know all de right place where dey have good fish. And is two week now he ain’ come back.”
Ezekiel, his fishing mate, had accepted an offer to join some tourists with a charter boat — “Jus’ goin’ out for a little while, arright?” he had said — and headed south, into the Grenadines.
“Las’ ting he had tell me he in Bequia. And tha’ was all de way las’ week. Since then I ain’ know where he gone.”
Ezekiel had sounded excited when he called, using the tourists’ satellite phone to ring the bakery he and Aloysious use as their spot. But this was a full week ago, and that too after a whole other week of what had sounded like very successful deep-sea fishing by Ezekiel. Big catches, their boat weighed down by large barracuda, wahu, and swordfish.
“Dey must’a cut up and freeze half the fish in the whole sea!” he says to Mama Agnes, offering a sudden grin. “Even fish from dis water ‘ere!” He gazes out to sea. Mama Agnes shakes her head and silently hands him cash for the fish he has brought.
Aloysious stares at it for a moment, then wanders off to put his nets and tools away, fingering the money, counting and recounting it. “Ezekiel gason, you see wha’ happenin’? No respec’ for de work I doin’. Remember de time we ketch so much fish we worry our boat go sink? That we ain’ go make it back here? Remember dat? Is you that teach me all that fishin’ you know gason. Come back nah man, leh we go fish again together. I not findin’ no oder pardner.”
He walks past some other fishermen, repairing nets and chatting. “Eh Aloysious!” one calls out at him, “I hear you catchin’ only sardine now! Dey don’ tell you l’il fish like dat don’ fill a man belly?” Several in the group laugh and hoot, thumping an upturned boat. “Dem not fillin’ a man pocket neither you know!” shouts another. More laughter. He keeps walking, keeping his gaze fixed at the sea.
Later that evening, he turns to his wife. “Delia you check de Western Union today? Your brudder son say a while ago he go send money. Fishin’ not good no mo’ you know. We go have to fin’ somet’ing else.”
Delia keeps her eyes on the potato she is peeling. “No cash comin’ dis month. Norm say if you wan’ his help, you go have to move dere wid him.”
“Move wid him for what? What I go do dere? He say he have job for me?”
“He say job easy in America. You can be gardener. Handyman. Anyt’ing.”
“But I ain’ do dat kinda work for so long. I can’ just start doing some oder ting, like handy dis or handy dat!” He slumps into silence, then adds softly, “Emanuel and his family, dey done gone. Fellas who have someone, anyone, in America, dey all gone. Is like dis whole place empty now.”
A news bulletin plays on the TV. Another action by the big navy that has been patrolling the waters of the Caribbean. Grainy black-and-white images, a boat in the water, crosshairs superimposed, a flash that suddenly lights up the screen. Afterward the grainy sea, and some unidentifiable debris floating about. “Americans, they kill another crew,” he mutters. “They sayin’ all a dem is drug smuggler”. He sucks his teeth. “I don’ know anyone who doin’ drugs here. Is only fisherman we have here.”
The fan turns slowly overhead. Delia watches in silence, then returns to her potatoes. “You goin’ an talk to Norm? He serious ’bout job you know.” She adds, “Is Ezekiel who teach you fishin’ and if he ain’ comin’ back, how you go continue?”
Aloysious says nothing, glares at the TV, now showing aerial views of several large grey warships leaving deep wakes in choppy water. The narrator talks about the continuing troop buildup across the southern Caribbean Sea, the growing frequency of deadly strikes on small boats that ply between the islands. And the rapidly growing death toll.
***
“Norm, sa ka fèt? Wha’ happenin’ boy?”
“Not’ing much uncle Aloysious, I jus’ dere. How you keepin’?”
“Your auntie say they have work in de town where you live?”
“Yeah I talk to manager in my warehouse. Dey have space for many people. You come on touris’ visa, to visit me, jus’ like normal, but dey have ways you can stay on for a while and keep workin’ here.”
“Is true? Dey don’ have nobody checkin’? Is easy jus’ like dat? How they can let you go and work? Ki mannyè sa posib?”
“Dey checkin’ for sure, but not so much. Dey lookin’ for Mexican mos’ly”. He laughs. “Not for people like us. If your boss like you, you good.”
“Norm what I would do in the warehouse? I not good for liftin’ heavy tings no more you know. My back not so good. Since my accident I barely pullin’ net heavy wid fish.”
“We go fin’ you somet’ing uncle. You jus’ have to come. They have big lawn and ting around the warehouse, all that grass, all de trees, dey need cuttin’ and maintainin’. You could work dere real easy. Your friend Emanuel, he dere wid his family you know. He livin’ not far from here. He helpin’ a bakery deliver dey bread.”
“Emanuel? He drivin’ van?” Aloysious grips the phone tightly. “He ain’ tell me nuttin’ about his work over dere. How he drivin’ van nah?”
“Well I don’t tink he drivin’ you know,” Norm says. “I think he does go with fellas to make delivery. I don’ really know how it is, but he say he happy wid his work. Uncle Aloysious dey have work for everyone in this country you know. Anyt’ing you lookin’ to do, dey have it. You jus’ have to come here.” He laughs again. “I tellin’ you, when you work here, and you get dollah in your pocket, you go tink and talk different.”
Aloysious does not tell Delia about his call. That evening, sitting with friends in Paula’s Corner Bar, he turns to Cumberbatch. “Cumbie, wha’ you tink about goin’ to America? Your brudder Joseph was livin’ dere one time, no?”
Cumbie slams down a domino. “Yea man, Joseph — Jo-Jo we call him — he dere five years now. Use to work in a bar but that not payin’ his bills. Around two years now he go to a recruiting station and join the army. Jus’ like dat! They tek him in, they send him somewhere, is to Iraq I tink, or one a dem places real dangerous, where dey killin’ you de minute you shut your eye.
They tell him he have to stay six months, and when he come back they go send him to college for degree. They go give him loan to buy car, buy house. Any’ting he want. But when he come back, dey sen’ him back dere again. And again. He done spen’ two year in dat place already.”
“Jo-jo tell his mudder he wan’ start he own business but he need make money firs’. He tell her jus’ a likkle more time, and after dat he go take what they givin’ and jus’ quit. She really don’ like what he doin’, she don’ want him killin’ and ting. She say he doin’ all kinda bad tings for de money, and she prayin’ for him.”
He shakes his head. “But he still dere you know. He jus’ keep tellin’ her he ain’ go stay long. But he stayin’.” He looks up from his hand of dominoes. “Me, I good right here gason. Don’ need to leave my home country and kill no people and cause no grief for my family,” he adds with another shake.
Behind the bar, the TV is running another bulletin featuring large grey warships. Cumbie points to it. “You saw there was a ship jus’ like dis one out dere the other day?” He gestures towards the sea. “One of dem real big ones, maybe dis same one dey showin’ now. Too big to even enter de harbour.”
“I sanm gouvèndman nou an vwéman enmen sé moun sala,” Vince observes, resting his dominoes on the table. “And why dat is, I don’ know. Nex’ ting you know dey go let dem shoot down our people here too!” He sucks his teeth.
“Gason, latè-a sé an plas étwanj!” Cumbie responds. “The rules change, everything change, it different. You know that hit they were showin’ las’ night? Tha’ was somewhere round the Grenadines you know. Jus’ Boom! Boat gone! Person gone! Nobody lef’!” He turns to Aloysious. “Tha’s not where your pad’ner went nah, Aloysious? Dem ships doin’ this same shit over dere for weeks now.”
Aloysious says nothing. He does not want to connect these terrible things with his friend Ezekiel. And yet, not hearing from Ezekiel for this long has made him uneasy. The group watches the screen in silence for some minutes. The game of dominoes resumes, but more quietly.
***
It is not yet sunrise as he heaves his boat down the beach. Other fishermen, preparing their own craft for a day out in the sea, help lift and push the other end.
He climbs in and steadies it against the waves. No Ezekiel, no help, and the boat feels large and lonely. “Where you went Ezekiel gason? I can’ do this no more, you hear me? You know where all de fish at. You know how to steer de boat right.” He looks around to see if anyone has overheard. No other fishermen within earshot.
He lowers the outboard motor into the water and takes the cord. It is not old, he has maintained it well, and it starts at second pull. He zips up the fleece — a gift from Norm when he was sending barrels for Delia at Christmas — and braces himself against the chill dawn breeze as he steers Helen out into the waves.
***
Delia sits across from the Health Director, at the Anse Health Centre located near the big roundabout in town.
“For true Dr. Felix, I am happy that you call me. And we need the money. But I don’ feel I ready for nurse work.”
“What kind of things did you do when you worked here before?”
“When I was workin’ here?” She stops to think. “When I was workin’ here, I use to check the stock, carry and fetch pills and bottles for the nurses, and I use to clean up end of de day.” She laughs as she remembers. “I was also holdin’ the babies when they get dey vaccine.”
Dr. Felix nods. “That’s a whole heap of work for this little place. I think you know more about how we function than you think. Once you watch a nurse do her shift, you learn plenty from it. And anyway this is temporary until we get a new nurse.”
“What happen to the Spanish woman who was here so many years?”
“The Cuban nurse?” He pauses and stares out of the window for a moment. “The government had to send her back to her home. There was a lot of pressure on them to do that. All the nurses from there have now returned home. A couple of doctors are still working in the big hospital up in the capital but they will also be gone in a few months. So we have a lot of big positions to fill”
“I can’ do too much without getting guide by her you know,” she says. “She and the other nurses we had were good with tellin’ you who is who and what is what.”
Dr. Felix puts up his hand. “I’m just giving you a two-week trial. That’s all, alright? We’ll see at the end of that. You can start on Monday. I have an assistant now, Leon. He is good, and he can also guide you if you need help.”
He sees her hesitation and leans forward. “Look Delia, we have a crisis. The Health Department is facing a real shortage of staff, and we are told to get anyone we can, quickly. The departure of all these trained people was never planned. It is happening on orders from very high up. In a few months the government will announce more plans for hiring permanent staff.”
He stands up. “I have another meeting now. Leon is in the back room, if you want to tell him on your way out. See you on Monday.”
“Yes Dr. Felix. I will tell him. I see you on Monday. Thank you Dr. Felix. I am very grateful Dr. Felix.”
***
After twenty minutes speeding out into the sea, Aloysious slows the engine and allows the boat to cruise onward for a spell. This is a patch of sea where he has had some success in the past. As he prepares to cast his net, he squints and spots a silhouette against the rising sun. It is the same giant ship they showed on TV. Unmistakably. It is heading in this direction, fast, and getting closer. Is it coming directly toward him? Coming at him?
”Is dis ship that get you Ezekiel? You gone Ezekiel? I go have to ask them gason! We can’ let dem do dis to us gason! I go show dem!”
He steers his boat to the left, away from the direct path of the approaching ship. He will manoeuver to go alongside and see if he can mount it.
The ship continues to bear down on him, now rising monstrously tall against the brightening, cloudless sky. Dipping and rising, getting bigger, its engines now a deafening roar. A high bridge, a complex jumble of machinery, spinning radars and antennae, helicopters straddling the deck, all become visible. This ship means business.
The sea is now heaving around him. Foamy waves are churned up all around by the big ship. These waves lift Helen of the West several feet in the air, then bring her down with a smash-thump on the water, leaving him stumbling and winded. Helen lists to one side and then to the other.
He looks around and sees that his net has become untethered and drifted far behind in the sea. His hooks, his knives, his toolbox have vanished. Icy water has flooded into the boat and is now up to his shins. Helen is sinking lower, now floating barely above the waves.
Drenched and shivering, Aloysious reaches for the pail, secured by a plastic rope, to try and bail out the water. He manages to drain several pails-full, and pauses to catch his breath, crouching in the boat to get back his balance.
He looks up, and the last thing he sees is the big ship’s prow, towering above him, taller than the tallest building, higher than the highest mountain that he has ever seen.
