on the hard metal. Nothing except water came from the tap, but I kept watching. It dawned on me that it would take him a while to find his way back into the tap. As long as I was patient, he’d appear all by himself. I stared and stared at the running water.
‘What did I just tell you?’ Mum had come back upstairs without me noticing.
‘To clean up. I’m supposed to clean up.’
‘Turn that tap off. Now.’
13
A few days later I put another letter in a bottle and threw it into the sea. Karl was standing on the quay near his house, a mound of fish spread out in front of him. Little fish jumped into the air one after the other, like they’d been jolted by electric shocks.
‘Mikael!’
I pretended not to hear him.
‘Mi-ka-el!’ I peered out from under my hood, and he beckoned me over. I was afraid he’d seen me out on the dangerous rock with my bottle and was going to tell me off, but instead he asked me to help him sort the fish.
‘Now?’
‘If you like.’
‘Okay.’
‘You know where they go, right?’ Karl pointed to the beaten-up containers all around us. ‘Like with like.’
‘Yup.’
‘If you don’t know where a fish belongs, you ask me.’ Over and over, he grabbed two or three fish of the same kind by the tail and whacked them into one of the containers. ‘Seen that?’ Karl nodded toward the faded nets hanging out to dry on the deck of his cutter. ‘They’re in a bad way.’
‘What happened?’
‘Dragged ’em way too close to the seabed, searching for your dad.’
‘Oh.’
‘Should be able to fix most of ’em up.’
I didn’t know what to say, so I stared at the ground. There were flounders, whiting, and even a cod. There was another fish, too, one I didn’t recognize. It had silver scales that gave off a kind of rainbow sheen and its tailfin was rounded, not pointed. I picked it up and took a good look, then let it fall again cos I didn’t want to ask Karl what container to put it in.
‘What does she do all day?’
‘Who?’
‘Your mother.’
‘All kinds of things.’
‘Does she ever leave the house?’
‘Sometimes she goes out searching. She doesn’t phone as much anymore.’
‘You two surviving over there?’
It felt strange to hear him say ‘surviving.’
‘Must be tough on you, too.’
‘Dunno.’
‘The sea’s a treacherous bastard. Hard to believe. One minute he’s walking around, next minute he’s gone.’ He shook his head.
A crab scuttled out from beneath the fish, claws raised, dragging a string of seaweed behind it. There was a starfish, too, legs curled up like caterpillars. They hold onto the rocks so tight, you have to peel them off like a plaster.
‘D’you fancy goin’ out on the cutter with me sometime?’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘Just a day out on the water. You can give me a hand. Beats sitting around over there all day with yer Mum.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Up to you.’
Karl fell silent and bent over his catch again. Most of the fish had eyes that were dull and dead. Eyes that could look through salty water without it stinging. Eyes that might have seen my dad. I concentrated on picking out the little fish, and nabbed the crab cos I was allowed to fling it back into the sea. I also found a yellow plastic bottle that must have contained some kind of cleaner. The label had been soaked off.
‘You find the strangest things drifting out at sea,’ said Karl.
‘Ever found a football?’
‘A football?’
‘A red one made of patches all sewn together.’
‘Not that I can remember.’
‘It was red.’
‘Easy to spot.’
I nodded toward the cove. ‘Over that way.’
‘No, not that I remember.’
It was a good sign, it seemed to me. If Karl had found the ball without Dad hanging onto it, that would be terrible. This way, Dad and the ball might still be together, and it could help Dad stay afloat.
‘Did you lose it a while back?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘D’you want a new one?’
‘Nope.’
‘I could look out for one when I’m in town.’
‘No need.’
Karl dug his knuckles into his lower back and stretched.
‘My hair’s getting long, don’t you reckon?’
I shrugged. ‘Looks okay to me.’
‘I can always tell when it’s too long. I get this itch.’
The fish with the rounded tailfin and the rainbow sheen lay between us in a puddle of brownish water. As soon as I picked it up, its gills flapped open and it began to gulp. Its eyes were a deep, staring black. It tensed like a calf muscle, and the spasms almost sent it sliding from my grasp.
The gulping slowed. It looked like it wanted to say something but didn’t have enough life left, to repeat something Dad had whispered to its cold and fishy heart, something it was supposed to tell me when it met me. I pressed the smooth scales to my ear, and a shiver burrowed its way from my neck deep inside my body. I heard its mouth open and close, and pressed it closer.
Gills flapping.
Another spasm.
It was trying to tell me! I tightened my grip to stop it slipping out of my hands. Now the words would come.
Now!
The fish fell slack and heavy as an arm that’s gone to sleep. Its mouth hung open. I wanted to blow breath into it, to force a heartbeat into its chest with my thumbs, but I was
