Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
TIA
R em’eb’s delight at fishing is palpable. We use the same sort of gear he does—that much is obvious when he smiles with joy at the sight of my fishing pole. He seems puzzled by the material it’s made from, and I try to explain that it comes from a fish that grows a long, sturdy hollow reed atop its head. Or I try to explain it, anyhow. I’m sure it doesn’t come across but he gets the idea eventually and we settle on one of the big rocks that jut farther out into the waters so he can cast. I help him get set up at the edge of the rocks and watch as his color flutters, changing to the same stone-gray as the boulder beneath his feet. He thinks for a moment, gazing down at the furs that cover almost every inch of him, and then his color flutters back to its normal reddish-gold shade. “I guess I do not need to camouflage.”
“Only if you want,” I call out, and sit back at the far end of the large boulder so I don’t get hooked when he casts.
For the first time today, he looks like he’s in his element. His strange, poofy mane is fluttering around his face, his cheeks chapped by the cold and the tip of his nose red. But there’s a huge smile on his face and a confidence that wasn’t there before. He must really be feeling out of place in my world.
“My” world. Ha. I’m not sure this will ever be my world, but I make do.
I watch him while the morning away casting his line, and this would be the perfect time to work on my knitting, except I left it back in the hut. I have a loom to pore over, too, and my heart squeezes with affection. Even when he was spiriting me away, Rem’eb knew how much that loom meant to me and he made sure he brought one. He’s such a good man.
“You guys are fishing wrong,” calls out an obnoxious, reedy little voice.
Biting my tongue, I glance back at Raashel, who stands with her younger sister, Aayla. It figures that out of all the kids on the beach, we’d get stuck with Liz’s girls. They’re just as nosy and bossy as their mother. “Rem’eb’s people have a different way of fishing than we do,” I call back. “Leave us alone.”
“Don’t you want to know how to catch fish?” Raashel asks, tilting her head up at us from below on the shore.
“It’s fine.”
“But you won’t catch anything.”
“It’s fine,” I say again, fighting to keep my tone pleasant.
“He’s dragging his line back constantly instead of letting it sink to where the fish are hiding in the rocks,” Raashel continues, oblivious. Or maybe she just doesn’t care that she’s annoying us because she feels a bone deep need to be right. “You need a bobber. Where’s the colored bone he should be using?”
“Where’s your mom?” I retort. “Shouldn’t you kids be supervised?”
“We’re practically adults now,” Raashel continues, and starts climbing the rocks to join us. “I’ll have to show him how it’s done or you guys won’t catch anything.”
I clamp my jaw and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them to leave when Rem’eb sets his pole down and carefully makes his way over the slippery rocks to help the girls. “We have visitors?” he asks me. “Who are these young ones?”
Swallowing my sourness, I watch him help the girls up to join us. Raashel takes his extended hand as if she’s a princess receiving her due, and Aayla is silent. The younger girl has her hair in pigtails, as blonde as Liz, and she gives me a shy smile and comes to sit beside me as Raashel moves forward to the spot where Rem’eb had been fishing.
“Let me show you how to fish these waters,” she announces in her favorite know-it-all tone.
Rem’eb glances back at me.
I shrug and make a “fish” motion with my arm. “She’s gonna show you how to do it.” I usually use nets and get fish from the tide pools if anything. I prefer clams and shellfish, but if Rem’eb likes fishing, I suppose it won’t hurt to have Raashel show where we’re going wrong. I know she’s done some fishing with her father and her mom, just because she wants to keep up with the boys and hunt and fish as much as they do.
And if she can’t catch anything either, well, we were polite adults at least.
Rem’eb gazes down at Raashel as she takes the fishing rod from him. “She is a tiny female!” His expression is one of delight as he gazes down on the young girl. “Is she going to fish for me?”
“No, I’m going to show you how to do it right ,” Raashel declares.
I snort.
Rem’eb blinks, clearly not understanding this exchange. But he watches Raashel as she pulls out a long length of line from the rod and then attaches a painted bone “float” to it. “You don’t cast over and over,” she explains, oblivious to the fact that Rem’eb can’t make out a word of what she’s saying. “This isn’t fly fishing. If you’re going to stand on the rocks, you have to fish for the ones that hide in the shallows. That means you need a floater. Watch.”
“Oh boy,” I mutter. Raashel wouldn’t be so bad if her tone wasn’t so imperious.
At my side, Aayla glances over. She’s chewing on the end of one of her long, wind-snarled ponytails. “Mom says we’re supposed to leave you alone so you can make babies.”
“We’re not making babies right now,” I point out. “Jeez.”
“That’s what Raashel said.” She chews on the tip of her ponytail a little more, her voice soft and completely unlike her sister’s. “And she said she could show him how to fish right.”
“Mmm.” I glance over at Rem’eb, but he doesn’t seem annoyed by Raashel’s endless string of instructions. He watches her hand movements and the placement of the bobber, and seems to nod in understanding.
“I know every kind of fish there is to catch in the shallows,” Raashel continues to her captive audience. “There’s the ones with the big fin. And the ones with the feet. The yellow gill. The red belly. The big mouth ones. Those taste the best, but only if you grill them with herbs. If you put them in stew, they just taste like mush.”
Rem’eb watches as Raashel commandeers his fishing pole. “Mush?”
“Mush,” she agrees in a lofty tone. “We’ll see what I help you catch and then I’ll show you how to prepare it.”
“Uh oh,” Aayla whispers. “I think she likes him.”
Does she? Aw. Poor kid. Her first crush. How old is she now? Eleven? Twelve? Rem’eb is a good one to have a crush on, I decide. He’s thoughtful and attentive and he has no idea what she’s saying so her obnoxiousness can’t bother him too much. Amused, I glance over at Aayla. “Does that mean you guys are going to be hanging out for a while today?”
“Oh, yeah.” Aayla sounds bored. The wet end of the ponytail goes back into her mouth and she slumps in her seat.
I fish out that wet bit of hair from her mouth. Poor kid, forced to be her big sister’s shadow. “Well, you want me to braid your hair while we’re hanging out back here? I bet I could do a really pretty Dutch braid.”
“Sure,” Aayla says, and scoots over to sit in front of me. “Thanks, Tia! What’s a dutch?”
It’s almost annoying that Raashel ends up being right about the fishing. The bait and line isn’t in the water for very long before Raashel gets a bite and pulls up a fish the size of her forearm. Rem’eb’s clear excitement fuels the young girl, and she magnanimously allows him back his pole, as long as he listens to her barked instructions. Before long, they’re both catching fish, and after Raashel declares in the snottiest of tones that he needs to learn English, she makes him repeat everything she points out.
I just ignore it, weaving a complicated pattern into Aayla’s fine, soft hair while the younger sister tells me all about her favorite dolls. I’m impressed with how patient Rem’eb is with Raashel. The kid gets on my nerves, but I’m sure a lot of it is her age. But Rem’eb treats her politely, and when she tries to hold his hand—a sure sign of a crush all right—he gently detangles himself from her grasp. “My hand belongs to Tia.”
And that just makes me melt all over again.
A few more of the kids come to join us—Pak and Rukhar, who seem to be joined at the hip, along with Z’hren. Raashel starts to show off to impress the other boys, and when Rem’eb catches a fish with a mouth so big he could put his fist inside it, Raashel just sniffs. “He wouldn’t have caught that if it wasn’t for me.”
“I think that’s enough fishing for us today,” I say brightly. “Why don’t you kids take these back to the main fire. Who’s cooking tonight?”
“O’jek and Daisy,” Z’hren declares, and makes a face. “Daisy’s food is gross.”
“And then O’jek tries to fix it,” Pak says in his favorite tone of voice—loud. “And it gets grosser!”
“And then we have to eat it because Daisy cries otherwise,” Aayla whispers to me. “Because she tries real hard.”
Eek. I pat Aayla’s small arm and look over at her sister. “I bet Daisy can do an amazing job with these fish. Raashel, you know exactly how they should be cooked, right? Maybe you should go tell her to ensure she does it right.”
Am I foisting Raashel off on an unsuspecting Daisy? Absolutely. But I’ve had enough of both fishing and the kids today. My breast has started humming louder and louder as the hours have gone by, and I’m starting to think wildly lascivious thoughts about Rem’eb.
Being alone with Rem’eb.
Licking the sea salt off his skin. Coaxing the umbrella-like frill out?—
“Oh, fine. If I must,” Raashel declares dramatically and tosses her hair. “Give me the fish.”
Rem’eb’s mouth quirks with amusement, and he silently hands his catch over to the girl, even as he glances over at me for approval. I nod, because I remember him saying his people had a communal food pot, too. Plus, we still have our clams and mussels from earlier, and I know the perfect spice that goes with them. Fish, I can get back in Croatoan, but the mussels are a treat I intend on gorging myself on while I’m here?—
And… wait .
Because I’m not going back to Croatoan, am I? This is supposed to be my home. Where I’m supposed to belong. So why does it still feel as if I’m just visiting? When does this feel like home?
Or am I doomed to always feel in between places and at home nowhere?