Net of Blood

by Selmoore Codfish

Chapter 6

  Thursday morning, I woke to the sounds of people working in the kitchen. The light of the sunrise was coming through the window. I noticed James was awake, but the boys still slept. I laid in the hammock contemplating getting up. Then I sat up with my legs to the side, and I stretched my back.

  “Good morning,” I said as I joined James on the porch. He nodded, and we sat a few minutes.

  “Did you dream?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I replied. He turned and looked out to the water.

  “The weather will be good today,” he said. The sky was clear and sea looked calm.

  Lydia brought out a bowl of soup for each of us. There was no spoon so I slurped it up. I kept the empty bowl because I didn’t want to interrupt the kids sleeping.

  I watched the activity in the village. Also, I started my carving. A couple men were sitting on their porches too. One person was at the boats and went out in one. Another man walked towards Fusang.

  “Roger is leaving for work,” I said. James looked at him for a moment but didn’t say anything. The people didn’t talk about Roger. They didn’t criticize him, but they didn’t give complements either.

  At home, it was easy to ignore what everyone else was doing. However, in the small community here, everyone knew each other and watched them.

  Roger was intentionally excluding himself from much of the life of the village. His fate wasn’t as closely tied the Kupe as the other people here.

  That reminded me that James’ idea of communion was that it happened when people worked and ate together. They shared the same blood through ancestry. All of this connected their destinies, and it bridged them back to the Savior’s communion.

  Since Roger wasn’t fully part of that anymore, did it mean that in James’ eyes that Roger wasn’t in-communion? That issue was important to me because I was sent to reconnect the village to the church.

  The Kupe felt that membership in their group was what redeemed people. If that was correct, then Roger was more of a member of the Fusang community. They weren’t believers, so Roger gained nothing from them.

  There were other ideas around the world about how we were redeemed. One was that it happened as a result of our actions. If we behaved lovingly to others then we were showing that we were worthy of salvation. How did that compare with the belief that communing with believers redeemed us? They weren’t completely opposed to each other, because one could be seen as the result of the other. For example, by belonging to a community of faithful, we were influenced to behave well.

  The people in Fusang behaved in a way that mimicked this. They’d organized themselves in a way that would benefit the whole city. However, by telling each resident where to work, it eliminated choice. Also, there was no connection between that sharing and the sacraments. The people in Fusang provided for each other but they didn’t do it voluntarily like the Savior had done. He had acted out of love, but they do it because obligation.

  Nevertheless Roger was alone. He didn’t receive the full benefits of community from either city. Included in the benefits of being part of the Kupe was that the sacraments came to him in a unique way through food, but he’d spurned them. He was associating with the secular Fusang residents. If I helped get a priest back to the island, he may participate in the sacraments then. He was the one who had the most to gain by my activities.

  Like Roger, I felt that I didn’t fit well either. Of course, that was because I was only a guest and I’d keep one arm reaching back there holding tightly.

  My stay with the Kupe was so that I could learn about them and know how I could help. Also, I would be learning to be a better fisherman so they wouldn’t feel that I was hexing them.

  James arose and retrieved his spear. It was still too soon for me to learn to use it because I barely knew anything yet about the sea.

  “See you later,” he said as he went down the path. Soon after that Ben and Ward left too. I was supposed to help Lydia fish. Everyone was awake so I took the soup bowls in and checked to see if I could help speed things along. Makelesi and Anna were still drinking their soup.

  “Is there anything I can help with?” I asked. “I hope we can fish.”

  “In a while we can check the nets,” said Lydia. “The puffer fish are smart. They don’t want to be caught, so they often cut their way through. We shouldn’t go too early or we won’t have many helpers join us.”

  “Do you eat the puffer?” I asked. I’d heard they were poisonous.

  “No,” she said, “but they end up in the nets.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “This is also a good day for gardening,” she said. I nodded. I couldn’t complain about doing work. I didn’t want to freeload, but be a part of village life.

  I watched as Lydia cleaned dishes. With no faucet, they had to collect water from the well. Then when the dishes were washed she threw the used water into the garden.

  “Okay,” she said. “We can go.”

  “Can I play?” asked Anna.

  “You can stay home with Makelesi or come to the church. Later you can play.”

  Lydia picked up a basket of supplies and we went out. Anna came along. Makelesi came to the door too.

  “Do you want to darn the nets?” asked Lydia. Makelesi replied in another language. Then all of us went down the path.

  A net hung on the back of the church. Lydia used a pole to retrieve it from the wall. She spread it out on the ground.

  “There are holes here and here. Then one there,” she said. She unpacked her tools and gave a set to Makelesi. The old woman sat on the ground and examined the hole.

  Clara, Charles’ wife, approached us with a basket.

  “Are there holes?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Lydia. Clara sat at the far side and started work. I had nothing to do, but I didn’t mind.

  “Anna,” said Lydia. “Do you see how this has been cut?” Anna moved closer. They looked at the threads. Lydia demonstrated to Anna how to use the tools to darn.

  Then Lydia scooted so she was facing more in my direction. She raised her voice so I was sure to hear clearly, but she spoke as if to Anna.

  “This net is like our family history,” Lydia said. “I’ve seen where I’ve patched it many times. Some of these threads are from the previous generation. Makelesi and her sister and cousins worked on parts of it.”

  Makelesi listed some names: Kalasiah, Sisle, and Talona. Then Lydia touched the fringes of the net.

  “Clara is my cousin,” said Lydia. Clara smiled.

  “…and some of the thread goes back to the first Mother,” Lydia continued. “Each tie on the net represents a different person, such as aunts, grandmothers, and great aunts. Every strand supports the others. You can’t have one missing or the others fall apart.

  “Likewise, your blood comes from me, Makelesi, and those who came before.”

  Lydia held up part of the net.

  “We are one net with one blood,” she said. “We are one people with many strands.” Makelesi started talking to Anna in the other language. She helped Anna make a stitch.

  I was jealous, not because I didn’t understand Makelesi, but because I wasn’t part of their deep traditions. I had tried to look up family history, but I’d found only names and dates, not stories.

  However, the church partly filled that hole. Some of our traditions went back two thousand years.

  It was growing and changing so it was living.

  I had thought about different ways that Gei Duk could be resurrected. Another point to consider was if the church itself could be his body. He was raised to Heaven and that exact instant the church was formed. His life on Earth was the church.

  That concept didn’t help me solve my problem. It still sounded like figurative resurrection. However, the idea of the church being his body did provide some comfort. It would mean that I shared Gei Duk’s blood and body through church
membership. It was just like the Kupe’s idea of sharing blood with Gei Duk through his lineage.

  Lydia started hanging the net on the wall again. I was confused and raised my eyebrows at her.

  “James will return soon with fish to prepare for lunch,” Lydia said. “I’ll be busy with that. We can fish afterwards.” I nodded.

  “Neal and Anna, we could use some wild greens for lunch. Would you collect some?”

  “Can my friends and I play on the hill?” asked Anna. She was upbeat.

  “Yes, you should find help to gather enough for the village,” said Lydia.

  We took the long way back to their home. We stopped at several houses so Anna could ask if children wanted to play on the hill. Most agreed. “This is Neal,” said Anna to them. “He’s my new brother. He’s going with us.” Then, Lydia gave us a couple baskets.

  “Fill them,” she said. “Anna knows where to go.”

  “When do we return?” I asked.

  “When you smell lunch,” replied Lydia.

  Six children of ages of about four to eight followed Anna and me. We went to the far side of the village, off the path and up the island. Behind the last house, Ben and a few boys his age played. Some wrestled each other and some watched.

  The slope was gentle there. The ground was rocky with a few weeds, but as we went higher, the rocks were covered with more greenery.

  “Does your mom normally take the children to play?” I asked Anna.

  “Usually Ben or one of the others,” said Anna, “but they always want to hurry home and never let us play. I know you’ll be different.”

  “What are the names of your friends?” I asked.

  “Walter, Hugh, Mary, Dafotila, and Rose is holding Peter’s hand,” said Anna. Peter was the littlest one.

  “Hello,” I said to Walter who was next to us.

  “How did you become Anna’s brother?” he asked.

  I tried to figure out a simple answer that he’d understand. I wasn’t really her brother. Walter was old enough to understand that.

  “I joined them so they could teach me to fish,” I said. Walter was satisfied with that answer.

  “We’re here,” said Anna. She had chosen a random place along the green with no features that said we were exactly at the right spot.

  One child fell and started rolling down the hill. I panicked for a second and thought I should catch him, but then another started rolling too. They laughed, and everyone else sat down.

  “Are the wild greens here?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Anna.

  “Which ones?”

  “You can pick anything you want to eat,” she said. They were all wild weeds. Mostly they looked like types of dandelions. I picked a leaf off one and showed it to Anna. She nodded. I did the same for a couple more types.

  It was going to take a very long time to fill the baskets one leaf at a time. Nevertheless, I had some helpers.

  A couple of them just sat, poked each other, and giggled. I put the second basket between them.

  “Here,” I said, “pull the weeds, or I mean greens.” Some of the kids started. Half of the salad missed the baskets, but I could collect that later.

  From the higher elevation, I could see ocean better and the small island to the East. In the village, we were next to the water and waves obscured the view.

  “Does that island have a name?” I asked.

  “It is Lou Gaa,” said Walter.

  “It’s where the ghosts live,” said Mary. I smiled and didn’t think any more of it.

  One of the kids rolling on the hill stopped to join us, but then two others stood up, bored.

  “Let’s play tag,” said Hugh.

  “Okay,” said Dafotila. The kids all got up. They chased each other around. It didn’t look fair for the little ones, but they were all in a good mood. Suddenly, the tagging started to look more like shoving, so I had to come up with a new game quickly.

  “Everybody sit and I tell you about children where I come from,” I said. They all sat. I showed them that they should pick greens while I talked. All did but Peter.

  “Do you have school here?” I asked.

  “No,” said Walter. He knew what I was talking about.

  “What’s that?” asked Rose.

  “It is where all the children go every day to learn,” I said.

  “What do they learn?” asked Hugh. “Is it to learn how to fish better?”

  “Not usually,” I said, “but some classes are about science and ecology. Kids would learn about fish there.” Hugh nodded.

  “They learn how to read,” I said. I tried to figure out how to make school sound interesting and fun, but relevant to their lives.

  “Oh,” said Anna. “We had Sunday lessons when the last preacher was here.”

  “Did he teach you to read?” I asked.

  “No,” said Walter. “He just made us memorize verses from the Holy Book.”

  “Did he write them down?”

  “No, we just recited them.”

  That was not exciting them. I needed other ideas.

  “Every day the children play,” I said. “That’s called gym.”

  “We want it,” said a few children.

  “They also listen to stories and sing songs.”

  “We want to play school with you,” they said.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll have to talk to the village to make sure it is allowed.”

  The children were excited. They kept picking greens as they talked about games that they wanted to play.

  The church was the best place to have the lessons, but on nice weather days school could be anywhere. I wondered what was most important for them to learn. At first, I thought that reading may not be useful in their simple life, but then I reversed myself. At least half of my reading was for pleasure and to grow rather than for work. Likewise, they’d find it useful.

  I realized that when President Xing had removed the priest, he taken away opportunity for the children. The little education that they were getting had been through him.

  It was unjust for the children to be prohibited from learning. That gave me even greater motivation to get a religious man to return.

  The baskets were more than half full. Some of the children had gotten distracted with games again and I didn’t stop them. I picked up the leaves that had fallen around the baskets. I saw smoke from several chimneys around the village. I guessed they were cooking lunch. I let the kids play a little more, and then I said it was time to go.

  We had too many weeds for one family. I had to stop at about half the houses any how to drop off children, so I distributed the salad with the children.

  At one house, I left Hugh with his sister. A group of older girls were there. Four of them were playing a rhythmic baton tossing game. They all tapped their sticks together then passed them to the girl across.

  Then we came to James’ and Lydia’s house. James and Ben were already there. I carried in the remaining greens.

  “Do you have much?” asked Lydia.

  “This is what is left,” I said, tipping the basket towards her.

  “Good. Please wash it and put it on the plates.” I took handfuls of greens and put them in the bucket of water, then shook them off. When I was done, Lydia added a piece of fish to each.

  “Grouper again?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Lydia. “You are recognizing more fish.”

  “…by the meat anyhow,” I said.

  Lydia and I carried the plates to the porch and we ate there. A few teen boys and young men came towards the center of the village. Ward was with them.

  They stopped at the house where the young women were, and one came out to talk. After a couple minutes, Ward joined us to eat his lunch. All of the other boys, except one, also dispersed.

  “Is that Nicholas?” I asked.

  “Yes, Charles’ son,” said James.

  “He’s
with Laaka,” said Ward. “He wants to give her a pearl.”

  “He wants to marry her?” I asked.

  Ward nodded.

  “They will have to wait until there is a place for them,” said James. I assumed that might mean that they’d have to wait until there was a death. I could have asked James to confirm it but I didn’t want to offend him by asking about death.

  Nicholas’ father, Charles, looked in very good health. Otherwise, they might move away to Fusang, but that would sacrifice their way of life. Living in New Truro required that the future couple conform to the rules. Their way of life prevented them from doing what they wanted.

  The kids finished their lunch first. I ate slowly because I wasn’t used to eating bitter salad with no dressing.

  “Ward, refill the water bucket at the well before you go out,” said Lydia. He did that then went down towards the waterline.

  I was very anxious to get my fishing lesson started. I’d been there a day and a half and still not made progress. I thought of going to help Lydia, but then I saw Charles walking our way.

  “Nice weather,” Charles said.

  “Yes,” said James.

  “Some of the boys will go surfing later. The waves are still higher,” said Charles. James nodded. They’d both been on the water that day so I wasn’t concerned it was too high for me.

  “Nicholas is talking to Laaka a lot,” said James. I thought Charles would know but sometimes the fathers were last to find out.

  “He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into,” said Charles. “It is much more work being a husband. Laaka will come up with many more chores for him.”

  “Does Clara give you many?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Charles said. “I think they do it so we’ll be too tired to kiss them, but fall right asleep.

  “Today she wants me to sharpen the shovel. It doesn’t really need it. It digs fine if you put your muscle into it. She’s just looking for work for me to do.”

  “Lydia had me do that last week,” said James. “They probably get together to share ideas of how to keep us busy.”

  Charles laughed. They looked around as they thought of what else to say. Winslow was headed to join us.

  “Here comes the wind,” said Charles while still looking at Winslow. James smiled. Winslow did seem to talk a lot.

  “Fishing poor for you too?” asked Winslow.

  “Yes, not much choice,” said James. Despite that, everyone was in a good mood with the weather better.

  “It will get worse with tourist season coming,” said Winslow. “Xing is milking it. Did you know that his father was a crook before independence? He aligned with the rebels because they were the hidden part of society.”

  “Yes, we’ve heard it before,” said Charles. “They are the cause of all of our problems. Xing probably made it storm yesterday too just to spite us.” Winslow smiled. He could tell that Charles was making fun of him. I thought I could add something.

  “The boys said that he’d come as Adaro in the mist yesterday,” I said. “He made the storm so he could sneak on us.”

  “You see,” said Winslow. “Even Neal gets it. Xing is trouble.”

  “Xing has had it rough,” said James. “Remember, his father wed a Kupe girl.”

  “That should have kept him too busy to get into trouble,” said Charles.

  “Xing’s grandfather threw out his father, mother, and him as a baby,” said James. “They lived in our village a short time, but our fathers didn’t accept him. He tried to get ahead of everyone through cunning and theft. It was then that he led the rebels.”

  “Whose daughter was it?” asked Winslow. James told him. It was people I hadn’t heard of.

  “Quite a few daughters end up leaving,” added Winslow.

  “Why?” I asked. I thought of Nicholas and Laaka.

  “Some men die,” said Winslow. “It is safer to be a woman.” I had noticed a few older women living with younger families. Makelesi was one, but she wasn’t a widow.

  “In the old times, a man would take two wives if there was imbalance. He’d take his bride and her sister,” said Charles.

  “…or they’d be traded to other islands,” said James.

  “Then later,” continued Charles, “some women would marry sailors.”

  “It’s ironic that Xing has Kupe and colonist blood mixed in him,” said James, “and he still persecutes us.”

  They talked more of lineages. However, I was thinking about why men had higher death rates. I’d seen a large shark, but they told me not to worry because they rarely ever bit. I was concerned about how seldom they attacked. Maybe they’d see how I looked different and want to sample my flesh to find out if I tested better.

  James got up. He said that he had a boat to patch. He went into the house and the other men went away. I went into the kitchen. James was fiddling with things there.

  “Are you ready?” asked Lydia.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Okay,” she said. “Anna, you can get your friends and go swim.”

  “Hooray,” Anna said. Lydia and I walked to the church to get the net. Anna went by herself to other houses.

  Lydia took the net down again. She looked to be in no hurry.

  “When we pull in the net, let me touch the fish only,” she said. “There are dangerous ones.”

  I nodded. She looked around. She seemed to be stalling.

  “It is a lot of work to pull in the nets, and clean the fish,” she said. “If we wait long enough, we’ll have more helpers.”

  “How far do you go out?” I asked. There were higher waves farther out. I noticed some boys were surfing.

  “We stay inside the reef. We don’t go into the sea,” she said.

  A minute later, Lucy came down the path.

  “Fishing today?” she said.

  “Yes, would you join us?” Lydia asked. Lucy nodded.

  We all carried the net towards the boats. The boats were of various sizes and construction. A small hollowed palm log was the closest.

  “That has a split,” said Lydia. “I told James to patch it for the boys.” Lydia picked a mid-sized boat the three of us could fit in. We put the net into the bottom of the boat. We all pushed the vessel off the beach then climbed in. Lydia was in the middle, and rowed us to the through the inlet.

  “Let’s try a little deeper,” said Lucy. “Neal is taller. He can fish where we can’t.” Lydia nodded.

  The water was clear. I saw seagrass and sand underneath. The waves crested far into the sea, but still made us rock.

  I looked up when I heard children. Anna and her friends had come to the beach. One of the older girls joined them as they splashed in the water.

  Our boat was about where the large shark had come. I had been worried about my safety, but I realized I shouldn’t be as concerned if small children weren’t afraid.

  “Neal,” said Lydia. “You can handle the net in the water and then all three of us will pull it in.”

  “Okay,” I said, “tell me what to do.”

  “We’ll feed out the net,” said Lydia. “Then you loop it into a circle to trap the fish. We’ll pull the ends in.”

  Lydia gave me a corner of the net and motioned to jump in. I didn’t know how deep it was. Climbing out carefully might have been tippy, so I dove in. The water was warm. I stood. When the waves came, they went up to my neck.

  I pulled the net out straight for about forty feet. Then Lydia waved to circle with it. The bottom dragged and the top floated up. I tried to step over the seagrass and onto sandy spots. Then, the net became tough to pull.

  “It’s stuck,” I said.

  “Go back and pull it up where it’s caught,” Lydia said.

  “Hurry or all the fish will get out before they are caught,” said Lucy.

  I stepped onto some weeds. I hoped they were weeds because I imagined it was a fish. When somethi
ng brushed against my leg, I feared it was a shark. I stepped away, but if it was after me, it was much faster than I was in the water. It was pointless to get away. Still, if I took one step away maybe it wouldn’t bite in anger.

  I got the tangle loose. When it stopped again, I just pulled harder to free it.

  Then, I came to the boat. They still had the other end. They started pulling on both.

  “If you get in,” said Lydia, “you can help.” I crawled over the opposite side. I balanced against the weight of the wet net on the other side.

  We pulled for a minute and made progress. Then, the net stopped again.

  “You need to free it again,” said Lydia. I thought I could get it if I just pulled hard again, but that wouldn’t work from the boat with no feet on the ground. I dove in again and swam to the tangle. I lifted it a little.

  “Just stay in and pull from there,” said Lucy. I was able to help with good footing. When the net was nearly into the boat, I got back in and pulled the heavy weight of fish from above.

  I hadn’t seen any fish when I was in the water, but they had been there.

  “Let’s do the sorting on the shore,” said Lydia. “It will be easier.”

  “Okay,” said Lucy. I was nearest the center of the boat, so I picked up the oars and took us back. It was tiring work and we weren’t done yet.

  Lydia and I pulled the boat onto the sand between two others. Then Lucy freed the fish into the bottom of the boat. They flopped, but were less energetic from being out of the water a few minutes. James was there putting a paste on a canoe.

  Lucy picked a fish and smacked its head against the boat to kill it. Then she threw it to the front of the boat.

  “Neal is supposed to learn their names,” said Lydia.

  “Oh,” said Lucy. “That’s a rough fish.” Then Lydia picked up one and smacked it.

  “It’s a jack,” she said. “She tossed it into a different boat.” Both women mentioned a few other names of fishes as they threw them into the second boat. I tried to tell them the names as they picked up repeats. However, I was confused because several types were called rough fish.

  “How are you sorting these?” I asked.

  “The good ones we put in the other boat,” said Lydia. Those were the fish with names. “The other ones are too bony and no one will eat them. We’ll put them in the garden for fertilizer. The soil here isn’t great.” Rough was their name for undesirable fish.

  “Do you want to sort some?” Lucy said. I had been standing and watching, not helping.

  “Leave the puffers,” said Lydia. I helped with a few fish until we reached the bottom. A few puffers remained.

  “They are dangerous and poisonous to eat,” said Lydia.

  “Do you put them back in the water?” I asked.

  “No, they would take over the sea if we only took their competitors,” said Lucy.

  “We’ll leave them out and maybe the seagulls will eat them,” said Lydia. She picked one up carefully. It was puffing. It had what I’d call a sharp beak. Lydia smacked it then threw it past the end of the boats.

  “Shall we work at my house?” asked Lydia.

  “Okay,” said Lucy. Lydia started filling a basket with a good fish.

  “Neal,” she said. “Do you want to learn to cure the fish? Instead, I have an alternate that way you can help.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “After we carry the fish up you can take the rough fish in the basket and bury them in the garden.” I nodded.

  As we walked up the path, Clara came out.

  “Clara,” said Lydia. “Join us.”

  When we reached the kitchen, they spread out the fish on the counter then handed me the basket. I did what she’d told me earlier.

  After fishing, swimming, pulling in nets, rowing, carrying and burying fish, I was tired. The women weren’t done with their work, but I didn’t offer to help. I sat and rested. Today was a busy day for them. Hopefully, not every day was that much work for them.

  I fell asleep laying on the porch. When I woke, James was there. I was groggy for a while, and didn’t speak. The women must have been gone because I didn’t hear them talking, but it did sound like supper was cooking.

  “I learned the fish names today,” I said when I was fully awake.

  “Good,” said James. “You can hook fish with the boys tomorrow. They don’t do it every day, but I’ll tell Ben that he has to then.”

  I nodded.

  “Learning must be tiring,” he said. I smiled.

  “It wasn’t the learning, but all of the hard work that went with it,” I said.

  “Hook fishing is a lot easier,” said James. “The boys wouldn’t do it if it was tough. They just want to have fun. You won’t get as worn out.” I nodded. Then I grabbed my spear barbs. The first was in shape already. I started vigorously on the second.

  Later the boys came home. Lydia called us into supper. Anna had come home sometime while I was asleep.

  The family told each other about their days. Anna told about playing. I added to her story.

  “We talked of playing school sometime,” I said.

  “Yes, all the kids want it,” said Anna.

  “It sounds fun,” said James.

  “Would you take all of the children?” asked Lydia. I thought she meant Ben and maybe Ward too.

  “It would just be play,” I said. “It’d be tough for me to handle all ages. We’d only try it a few times.”

  “I’ll talk to the other mothers when I see them,” said Lydia. James nodded. Then they talked about other things. For the rest of the night we played games.

  The Kupe might lack a formal education, but they were smart. Ben could usually beat me in checkers. Also, they were all bilingual.

  Still, the children here would benefit from learning to read. In my short time here, all I could do would be to get them excited about school. At best, my play-school could start skills the young ones needed to get ready to read. I went over the ideas in my head.

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