Teeth(28)

“This is so gross.”

He comes up with flesh speared on his teeth. “Oh my God. Rudy, this is the best minnow in the world. You have to try this.”

“I’ll pass.”

“I’ll save you the liiiiver.”

At least now I know he’s screwing with me. “Do fish even have livers?”

“You’re a liver.”

“How do you know that word?”

“I’m very, very smart.” He licks the skin clean. “Oh my God. Minnow. You are a beautiful minnow.”

“It’s dead.”

“It doesn’t speak English anyway. Oh, lovely, lovely minnow.”


“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one kissing a fish. Gross.”

“Your human sister.”

“I knew what you meant. Seriously. You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

I smile and he smiles and I lie down on my back, as far as I can get from the remains of the fishboy’s lunch. He’s sucking on all the little bones.

Eventually he finishes eating, and I don’t say anything, and he doesn’t say anything. He reaches up to the dock and walks the fish bones back and forth like they’re people. I half-watch his hands and half-watch the sky. It’s the first time we’ve been absolutely silent together when it doesn’t feel like we’re fighting. It almost feels like we’re tucked in to go to sleep. The silence must last nearly five minutes before he looks up at me and smiles.

It doesn’t matter what team I’m on, for a minute. For a minute it’s just me and that smile.

“If you’re done relaying my family history to me,” he says, “I have a mission for us.”

I sit up. All the blood rushes out of my head and makes me dizzy.

“I knew that would make you pay attention. Poor, bored Rudy.”

“What are we doing?”

“Operation Enki Freedom.”

“Seriously, how do you even know these words?”

“Ms. Klesko listens to the radio without her hearing whatevers in. And I am very, very smart, Rudy. You’re in?”

I guess freeing a few can’t hurt. The fact is, my mom brought a whole school of fish home from the market this week, and the guilt is eating me alive.

“Come ooooon,” Teeth whines. “Operation Save My Brothers.”

Now it’s not like I have a choice. “Yeah, I’m in.”

Fishboy licks his lips. “Excellent. Come on. Let’s go swimming!”

I slip into the water. I start shivering from the second my toe breaks the surface. At least I’m more confident in the water now, after all the swimming lessons. Thank God Mom and Dad think I’m f*cking Diana, or I’d have no excuse for why I’m gone so much.

We swim. I let him lead, and I grab on to his tail when I get a little shaky in the deep water. He lets me, but not for too long, since it makes him a lot slower.

He doesn’t swim like I do; he taught me how to flutter kick, but he hits the water with huge strokes of his tail, like an oar on a rowboat. He can hold his breath for almost three minutes. I timed him once. He says that with practice, I can stay underwater for that long too. I want to learn.

We’re heading toward the marina again. Shit. I hope this isn’t a suicide mission. He should have disclosed that before he dragged me along. I still might have come.

He stops us against a cluster of algae-coated rocks. They’re slippery, and I can’t get a good grip, so I latch on to his arm. He doesn’t shake me off.

“What are you looking at?” I say.

“Fishermen.”

My fingers tighten on his arm. “Teeth, come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ve seen the fish. Hi, fish.” I see them now, swirling around his tail. He’s leaning in to them when he can.

“Seen these?” He pulls me around the corner and shows me an enormous net filled with fish, hauled halfway out of the water. The fish struggle all together, like one huge animal.

There must be a thousand of them. I can’t believe we eat that much fish, as an island. But even my tiny brother can go through four or five a day, I guess. And I can think of ten people off the top of my head who don’t eat a thing but fish.

The fishboy grits his teeth. “Look at that. Look at what they’re doing. And they don’t even have the common decency to kill them quickly. They’re going to let them flop around in the sun until they drown.”

“‘Drown’ means water.”

“Whatever.”

“If the fishermen catch you, I don’t think they’ll have the decency to kill you quickly, either.”

“Well, that’s the truth.”

I pull his wrist. “Why are you being stupid?”

He glares at me. “I’m stronger than the f*cking fishermen. Plus they’re at lunch.”

“They’re twice your size.”

“Then why do I always get away?” He looks at me like my brother does when he gives me his stupid five-year-old comebacks. I know you are, but what am I? “How come they can’t capture me for more than an hour?”

I don’t have an answer for that, so he crosses his arms, triumphant, which throws my hand off his arm and leaves me treading water on my own.