mercredi 6 août 2008

Fish Bones

I will tell you why the fish has so many bones, but first you must know why the fish floats to the surface when he dies. That story begins long ago, when polar bears left the sea and became alligators and alligators left the land and became butterflies and there was much confusion in who was who and what was what and whether one creature was your brother or your cousin and another was your sister or your aunt. Because of these strange and complicated relations, an unspoken law existed that everyone, even the most vicious creatures, would control their baser instincts and avoid eating anything but eggplane and cabbage, which had been carried to earth on solar winds from another galaxy and were not members of anyone’s family. At this time, fish had not a single bone in his body and his flesh was white and tender from silvery tip to tail.

On the banks of the primordial sea where creatures were daily dragging themselves out of the water or sinking back in, a sandy-colored creature called man was having a hard time deciding whether to stay on the shore or return to the water. The sea was always a pleasant temperature and filled with eggplant and cabbage, which was certainly not the case on land, where it was hot all day, cold all night, and one often had to eat sand.

The problem was that man was very forgetful and he had forgotten how to breathe underwater. He would dive into the primordial sea, fill his lungs with water, and begin to splash around and make all sorts of noise, which could be heard for many miles in the sea.

Fish took pity on man, who, he was embarrassed to admit, was a not-so-distant cousin. He wanted to help man remember how to swim and maybe stop drawing so much attention to himself. So, when man made another attempt at returning to the water, fish swam beside him and whispered in his ear.

“Watch me, it’s easy!

“Just move your tail back and forth!”

Soon man was moving through the water in an awkward fashion. But he kept his head high and tried not to sink below the surface.

“That will never do,” said fish, “you have to go under and breathe!”

Man did as he was told. The rich, salty water washed over his head, stung his eyes, and pressed deep into his ears. He exhaled his last breath and bravely sucked water into his lungs -- as much as he could possibly hold. For a moment, he remembered dashing back and forth in endless schools of extended relatives, spinning in the ocean spray and crashing back into the sea, diving so deep the cabbage glowed in the dark and the eggplant was blind.

Then he started to drown. He thrashed and coughed and clawed for the surface. Fish tried to calm him down. “Breathe! It's okay.” But man wouldn't listen.

Man woke up in the surf. He coughed and coughed, until all the water left his lungs.

“Man,” fish asked, “why do you want to return to the sea? Is it so bad there on land?”

“Oh, it's terrible. It's always too hot or too cold and there's so little to eat, some days I have to fill myself with sand to stop the pain.”
Fish had an idea. “Man, when I die, I have no need for this body. I will fill myself with air and float to the surface and the sea will wash me to the shore. You can take of my flesh and feed yourself as easily as I fill myself with eggplant and cabbage.”

Man thanked his distant cousin and in the days to come he would find many fish washed up on the shore. And fish was so good man could eat it whole, straight from the sea, and he thought he would never be hungry again.


Man is a forgetful creature. He stared at the dull, sunken eyes of a fish washed up on the shore. He poked the soft, mushy flesh. He smelled the putrid remains before him and thought, “Dead fish is better than sand, but not by much.” Man forgot everything fish had done for him. Man wanted fresh fish.
Man waded into the sea and splashed around in his efforts to stay afloat. Fish swam to his side and whispered in his ear, “You still want to come back to the sea?”

“Fish, the water here is too deep. Come closer to the shore and teach me how to swim.”

Fish followed man and gave him all the advice he could. Many hours passed before fish realized the tides had shifted and he was flopping around in a small puddle in the sand. “Man, take me back to the sea. It's too hot here on land and I can't breathe!”

Man lifted the firm-fleshed fish and stared at his bright, shining eyes. Fish smelled so fresh. Fresh fish must taste so good.

“Yikes! What are you doing?” screamed fish.

Man couldn't respond—his mouth was full of tender white meat.

“You tricked me after everything I did for you!” Fish closed his eyes and focused on his soft, supple flesh. He thought of the great coral reefs and deep stone spires. He thought of the alligators teeth and polar bears claws. “You'll regret this, man. I promise you that.”

Man ignored fish and took another bite of his flesh. Maybe, if he hadn't been so hungry, he would have noticed something different But he bit, chewed, and swallowed without a second thought.

Then he started to drown. He thrashed and coughed and clawed for air.

“Now I have thousands of bones and every time you eat me you they will lodge in your throat and choke you and you will drown on land just as if you were in the sea.”