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Photo by Roland Lösslein on Unsplash
The train jolted on its tracks and Bailey sat up on the bed in the dimly lit cabin. Ethel awoke to Bailey’s movements and massaged her back as she hunched over her knees and took in deep breaths.
“Is it the train?”
Bailey shook her head and brought a hand to her stomach, “It must be the baby.”
The cups on the bedside table clanged against one another and the train wheels galloped against the steel rails. Ethel glanced at the horizon, the sun had yet to rise but its first glare lingered in the horizon like a mirage and the smell of breakfast wafted in from the kitchen car.
That set Bailey off, she jumped to her feet, ran with her hand covering her mouth to the toilet, and hurled. Bailey swayed in her drowsiness then, knelt beside the toilet and after hurling all she could hurl she twisted around and laid her back against the handwash basin, one hand remained on the toilet rim in preparation for another round of sudden nausea.
Ethel rubbed his eyes and revered his love as she took profound breaths in the bathroom and held herself in the crook between the washbasin and the toilet. The tracks were no longer as smooth as when they left the city and the closer they were to Bailey’s hometown of Muthbrook, it seemed, the worse became the amenities and comforts that came with modernity. This far out into the country, so near the frontier, the people they had started their trip with were no longer the same. Most had dismounted at earlier stations and now the train had a different kind of passenger, their attire more rugged, their faces wearier and scar-ridden; hands rough to the shake upon greeting and the little conversation Ethel could understand was rife with talk of the hunt and weapons.
Bailey hurled again and Ethel vowed he’d tell her parents about the baby. It was about time, he thought, but thinking about it reminded him how terrible his ability to speak Caltu was.
Ethel was embarrassed of having been raised by a Caltu mother and father yet, was unable to speak the language as fluently as others who grew up the same. Bailey had no issue at all, she was born and raised in Muthbrook where Caltu was the only language.
Ethel grew up in the city of Cristelis a place nothing like Muthbrook and having been raised where nearly every language of the world existed only helped to dilute the language and make Ethel’s ears numb to the unique sounds of any one language in particular, though he felt he understood enough of many languages to get by, he spoke none fluently, except one, Rulei, the language of business.
Photo by Brian McGowan on Unsplash
The train pulled into Muthbrook station late in the afternoon. Ethel and Bailey shared a nervous look when they saw her parents waving to them under the wooden archway elaborately carved out in the cultural designs of the region.
Huai, bebei, Huai, “Hello baby, hello,” said her parents with wide smiles and spread arms as Bailey and Ethel approached.
Ethel smiled back and replied with the customary greeting but even in speaking words as simple as those, he felt the awkward tension that comes with speaking an unpracticed language. After the parents gave Bailey her barrage of hugs and kisses, they raised their gaze at Ethel and with warm smiles, the likes Ethel hadn’t even received from his own parents, they hugged him.
“We are so glad you’ve come,” said Bailey’s mother in Caltu.
As they drove out of the wood line of the forest surrounding the train station and approached the marshy main roads of Muthbrook, Bailey and her parents bounced story after story off one another while Ethel sat listening intently, trying to follow the conversation and smiling and fake laughing when everyone else broke into laughter.
It was the first time Ethel had traveled that far into the country and he found it hard to believe the humble lifestyle of some of Muthbrook’s people. In the rougher parts of town, the roads were hardly paved and many houses were nothing less than single layers of wooden planks and corrugated tin roof ceilings. Then, they passed into the downtown area and drove through vast courtyards where small storefronts boasted the limbs of massive beasts, jewelry and tools made from their bones, clothes from their hides. In the more affluent part of town it was evident how much the society of Muthbrook relied on the beasts as even the most elaborate houses with beautifully manicured lawns featured massive femur bones as front porch columns and rare colored scales lined the walkways to the front doors.
By the time they had arrived at Bailey’s parents’ house the sun had already began to set over the sawgrass of the river bank and though Ethel knew nothing about the river, he could tell it was low tide by the sheer amount of raw mud that could be seen above the waterline reflecting the vibrant pink rays of the horizon and the strong scent of fish lingered in the humid air.
Bailey paused for a moment on the front porch and admired the sight outside the house she grew up in. She wrapped an arm around Ethel and said, “Isn’t it precious. To think I grew up here.”
Ethel’s eyes hovered over the riverbank and befell the novel sight of shoeless and shirtless men and women on the docks nearby hauling nets replete with fish from their boats.
Image generated by John Martinez on Muse AI
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” he said. Bailey said nothing in return, and he turned to her noticing quickly thereafter that something about her gaze had changed. She was saddened by something and he worried if maybe she had been concerned about their current baby situation.
“Everything ok?” Ethel nodded to Bailey’s stomach, “Feeling alright?”
Then Ethel noticed her gaze was poised over a lonesome boat moored off the edge of the dock closest her parents’ house.
“No,” said Bailey placing a hand over Ethel’s. “That boat there reminds me of the one my dad had when I was in high school.”
“What happened to it? Did he sell it?”
“He never would’ve sold it.”
Bailey’s father came to the porch and after noticing Ethel and Bailey looking at the boat said,* Te remere eo ute?*, “You remember the old boat?”
“Of course,” answered Bailey. “I was just telling Ethel how much that boat looks like it.”
“I tried to get something as close to it as I could,” said Bailey’s father and Bailey’s face contorted to his words.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been saving for years, honey. It’s a lot of money to put down all at once.”
Ethel had trouble understanding the last bit of what Bailey’s father had just said and leaned in closer to Bailey for clarification, “Did he pay all at once? Cash?”
Bailey’s father answered Ethel in a heavy Ruleian accent, “Yes.”
Ethel tried his best to reply in as clear Caltu as he could conjure up, “Why didn’t you make payments and buy one sooner?” Irfan winced as Ethel spoke but seemed to have understood regardless of how terrible Ethel’s conjugations may have been. The older man contemplated something for a moment before he waved his hands and answered, “This is no time to bring up the past, there’s much to look forward to during your stay! Bailey, your sister and her husband will arrive tomorrow.”
“What? She didn’t tell me she was coming,” retorted Bailey.
“Did you ask?” replied Irfan. “Its easy for you to forget your family sometimes.” Ethel clearly understood the jest and smirked as he remembered all the times Bailey’s parents complained and threw tantrums when she had let a day pass without having called them.
The next morning, a rustling in the kitchen woke Ethel. For the second day he had awoken in the dark morning and he felt the weight of exhaustion from having traveled. He noticed a shadow move across the light that shone through the slit underneath the bedroom door and rolled onto his back beside Bailey. The stray light shone off the cypress cross beams of the ceiling. Ethel toiled over how he’d tell Irfan about the baby and imagined it was him in the kitchen.
The front door creaked open, then closed, and the thought toiling about in Ethel’s head turned to curiosity. Who’d left the house so early? Perhaps one of Bailey’s parents had gone to the porch to enjoy the sunrise, what a perfect setting to say what he had to say.
He lifted from the bed and hurried to put his sandals on before carefully shuffling out of the bedroom without waking Bailey. The smell of freshly brewed coffee still lingered in the kitchen as he passed, and a film of humidity wrapped about his skin upon opening the front door. Whoever had just left, had done so in a hurry. No one was on the porch, nor was there a soul in the streets. It was when a wind blew and lifted the acrid smell of the mangroves and Ethel heard the water lapping against the uprights of the docks that he noticed Irfan beside the newly purchased boat. The sun broke the horizon and Ethel leaned against the porch pillars as he examined the older man. Bailey’s father dropped to one knee and untied the ropes to his boat from the metal bolt beside his foot.
Ethel considered going to him, but he heard the door creak open behind him and noticed Baily with two cups of coffee in hand.
“Morning,” said Ethel, not quite taking his eyes away from Baily’s father on the docks.
The musk of the coffee approached, Baily tapped Ethel’s shoulder, he turned, and shook her head as she said, “I wouldn’t do it today.”
Ethel took his coffee from Bailey and took a sip as he returned his gaze to Irfan. The coffee was a strange kind of bitter, the kind of flavor that region of the world was known for. “We’re not in town long, Baily. I have to do it soon,” said Ethel.
Bailey cuddled under Ethel’s arm, they sipped their coffee together, and listened to the rustling palms and cypress trees in the wind before Baily spoke again, “We have plenty of time. My father can be a little difficult at times.
“You think he’ll give us problems?”
“My dad is a proud man. He can’t stand to damage his reputation. I just don’t know how he’d take it. Maybe we should tell my mom first,” said Baily.
Ethel shook his head and said, “Definitely not. You think it won’t hurt your father’s pride if he was the last one to learn about our situation? No, I have to tell him, I just wish I could speak Caltu better. Maybe I wouldn’t be so nervous. I just want to say the right thing. I want the words to mean something.”
Irfan began loading his boat and Ethel straightened from the porch pillar. He took one step down the porch steps and said, “I have to stop being so nervous. I can ask him on the river.”
Baily put a hand on his shoulder and held him back. Then, the front door opened again and out came Fabiana, Baily’s mother. She said “Good Morning,” in Caltu and came to give Bailey a kiss on the crown of her head before she put a loving hand on Ethel’s shoulder and asked, “What are you two doing out here so early?” She asked, then followed their gaze to the docks and didn’t need an answer. “He’s finally got that thing working. I tell you nothing in this world could take his mind off that river. You two are only here for the weekend and he’s wasting away a day on the water without us.”
Ethel asked in broken Caltu, “Why wouldn’t he want us to come?”
Fabiana strained her eyes over Ethel while she listened to him speak and answered after a small pause that must have been her trying to parse together his words. “Do you notice the docks are filled with the men preparing their boats for the hunt? Each man has a crew working alongside them, except Irfan.” It was a complex sentence for Ethel to grasp but he understood. The next sentence, however, Ethel tapped Bailey and nodded in her mother’s direction for a translation.
“My mom said that it’s not so much that he doesn’t want us to go with him as us not daring to go. There is money to be made from the river hunts and most men with boats have an easy time finding a crew to help them while out on the waters.”
Irfan finished putting his things in the boat, cranked the motor, and pushed off the dock. The boat pulled in reverse out of the slip and Irfan turned the wheel into the river.
Ethel shook his head in bewilderment, and asked Bailey’s mother, “People are afraid of Irfan?”
Fabiana leaned her shoulder against the porch pillar beside Ethel and Bailey and followed Irfan’s movement downstream, “He is a stubborn man and a proud man. Sometimes his ambitions get a hold of him and don’t let go.”
Ethel leaned back onto the porch pillar and asked, “I’ve never heard of people being afraid of ambition.”
Bailey put a hand on Ethel’s chest and shook her head, “What are we having for breakfast mom?” she said with eyes glaring at Ethel.
“Anything you like baby. Take Ethel with you into town and get some fresh fruit and pastries and I’ll make something delicious.”
Bailey took Ethel’s hand and pulled him away from the porch, “C’mon babe.”
Down the dirt road and out of Fabiana’s sight Ethel leaned in and asked, “What was that about? What happened to your father on that boat?”
Bailey gave a meager look back at her parent’s house before she answered, “My father once had a crew for the river hunts. Usually the men came back late in the afternoon before sun set, but one day my father and his crew were out in the river well into the night. When morning came, word reached us that they were still out, and the town started to worry.”
“What happened?” asked Ethel impatiently.
“Another day passed and still, my father and his crew had not returned. On the third day the town put together a search party and set off into the river. They found my father and his crew stranded on the riverbank miles away. Several of them were far too injured to make their way back home so they sat in wait, assuming, correctly, that it would only be a matter of time before people would come looking.”
The cling and clang of tools, the smell of spices and the subtle chatter that lingers about commerce became audible as they approached downtown and Ethel asked, “What happened to their boat?”
“My dad and his crew said it was destroyed by a beast lurking in the river.”
The two walked through a market with posts displaying the limbs of hunted creatures hanging from hooks. Spices and fruits filled countless crates beside store counters.
Ethel asked, “Isn’t that a risk all hunters take when they go out on the river? It sounds like people put the blame on your father.”
“There are some creatures people know not to mess with. My father is notorious for his ambitions and that very same ambition nearly got men killed out on the river. He’s a competent man, but people refuse to go back out on the river with him.”
“You think he’ll go back after that beast?” asked Ethel.
“I know he will. Ever since that tragedy, no one has given him a loan to purchase another boat, figuring that was the best way to keep him off the river. But he has saved his money to buy one outright. It feels like he’s been working on that boat for years and ever since he finished fixing it up, all he’s been talking about has been finding that beast.”
“You’re not afraid he’d get hurt looking for the thing?” asked Ethel.
“Of course, I am. Everyone is, that’s why we don’t dare encourage him and ignore him when he brings it up.”
Everyone was surprised when Irfan returned later that morning with a net full of fish and some four-legged creature with a tough hide slung over his shoulder. “We are going to have a hell of a dinner tonight,” he said after saying good morning to everyone and placed his hunt in the refrigerator.
Confused looks were shared behind his back.
Later that evening, as the burners inside the kitchen warmed the house and the smell of fish stew and seared meat lingered about the place Ethel joined Irfan in the front porch. It wasn’t until Ethel sat on the wicker chair beside the older man, that Ethel realized Irfan was cleaning his rifle.
Goda noet, Ethel, “Good evening Ethel,” said Irfan.
The crickets were loud in the night.
Ethel swore he could see his own reflection in Irfan’s rifle and immediately reconsidered bringing up news about the baby.
Instead, Ethel said, “Everyone thought you were out for a bigger hunt this morning.”
Irfan ceased his polishing and looked up from his rifle with a titled head, “That right? Rumors run rampant in the country boy.”
Ethel spoke slowly, trying to sound out every Caltu syllable, “I’m fascinated by what’s out there. I’ve never seen any of the giant beasts that roam the wild, Cristelis is too well protected.”
“No city gates out here,” Irfan scanned the dark horizon. “Your Caltu is getting better.”
“I’ve been working hard at it. Practicing with Bailey and reading.”
“You’ll get better in time.”
Ethel’s eyes dropped to Irfan’s rifle again, he had to say something, do something. “Take me with you next time,” was all he could manage to say.
“Next time is tomorrow morning. Early.”
Ethel cleared his throat, “So early I’ll rise.”
Ethel woke to a gentle knock on Bailey’s bedroom door early the next morning. A beam of light from the kitchen pierced the darkness as Irfan peeked in and beckoned Ethel with a nod. In the kitchen, Ethel asked if there was anything he should bring. Irfan handed him a rifle and said, “Your guts.”
On the docks Ethel helped Irfan load the boat and mounted the watercraft clumsily.
“You ever been on a boat?” asked Irfan as he cranked the motor.
Ethel didn’t need to answer, it was obvious from his lack of balance as soon as the boat took off from the slip.
It was so dark all Ethel could manage to see was the red and green navigation lights at the bow. The water was still and the sky was speckled with stars in the absence of moonlight. The smell of the marshland was heavy in the humid air.
“You ever fire a weapon?” asked Irfan and Ethel shook his head. “Ok,” Irfan pulled back on the throttle and gestured for one of the weapons racked against the center console, “pass me one.”
Ethel lifted a rifle off the rack and handed it to Irfan.
Irfan inspected the rifle, pulled the charging handle to the rear and peered down the chamber before handing Ethel the weapon back. “Simple enough.” Though Irfan’s explanation didn’t seem as simple when Ethel heard it, the young man nodded as if he fully understood.
“Alright, sling that weapon over your shoulder. Always keep the weapon in front of you. You may need it at a moment’s notice. The creatures out here are cunning, they aren’t up for much of a fair fight.”
“Are the creatures in the water or on the riverbank?” asked Ethel straining his eyes in the darkness of the night.
“Both son,” answered Irfan as he pushed the throttle forward and the nose of the boat kicked up for a few seconds then bowed out with speed. They kept a steady pace for almost an hour until the break of first light upon the horizon and Irfan pulled back on the throttle.
Image generated by John Martinez on Muse AI
“No one has dared hunt with me since the disaster,” said Irfan as the boat came to a crawl. He winced at Ethel and said, “Are you afraid?”
“Of course, I am. I’ve never held a weapon,” Ethel struggled with the translation in his head, “I’ve never seen a monster, but I know this is important to you.”
Irfan raised his chin to Ethel and sprung to his feet, “Look there!” The older man raised the barrel of his rifle in the direction of a small wake in the water. With his muzzle trained on the movement on the surface of the water, rifle poised beside his cheek, Irfan gestured to the center console with his other hand and said, “there’s a canister with a green diamond. Grab it and be ready to pull the pin and toss it, when I say.”
The motor hummed in the seconds that lingered and a shot rang out that rocked Ethel’s eardrums. A pillar of water sprung from the surface and the wake of whatever lurked in the river disappeared.
“On the ready boy.”
Ethel’s palm began to sweat underneath the canister. He pinched the pin.
There was a deep wail from underneath the boat and Irfan said, “now.”
Ethel pulled the pin and lobbed the canister just as the horns of the creature broke the surface of the water.
A bright light rendered Ethel blind.
Shots rang out beside him and by the time the static coils within his sight softened and Ethel could see again, Irfan had already begun maneuvering the boat toward the floating carcass of the beast he had just killed.
Irfan lifted the floating beast by its horns onto the boat and with a great smile said, “Good one!”
The beast Irfan called a Ratakat lay at almost four feet and had a muscular chest between long arm-like fins sprawled out on its sides. It was impressive to say the least, but it was nothing like the kinds of beasts whose limbs were exhibited in the markets and whose bones could be used to build structures. That thing wasn’t the creature that made Irfan infamous.
Ethel said, “That’s not what took your boat out.” And immediately repented having said that when Irfan replied, “Definitely not. Now that we have this guy, we don’t have to worry about coming home empty-handed in case we don’t find the big prize.”
Irfan curled the Ratakat carcass and placed it in the cooler at the stern of the boat then pushed down on the throttle and sent the boat gliding upon the water now set ablaze by the morning sun. After about an hour of gliding through the river, Ethel noticed the water level on the riverbank drop significantly.
“Is it low tide?” asked Ethel.
Irfan pulled back on the throttle and checked the depth finder before he raised the trim on the motor and leaned back in the captain’s chair to say, “Tide is still dropping.”
“Are we stopping,” asked Ethel looking around the river.
“Yes,” Irfan stared at Ethel for a few moments then said, “I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on with Bailey.”
Ethel struggled to wipe away the torrent of sweat dripping from his forehead with his shirt and asked, “I’m sorry?”
Irfan took his hands off the steering wheel and said, “Don’t act like you didn’t understand me.”
Ethel eyed the rifle slung around Irfan’s shoulder and stammered, “I’ve been trying to find the best time to tell you.”
“I think now is as best a time as ever.”
“We’ve been together for a while now and-
-She’s pregnant?” finished Irfan with eyes winced at the horizon.
Ethel exhaled, “Yes.”
Irfan hung his hands on his rifle and nodded, “This is where the river runs shallowest. At the trough of the tide it is no more than 2 ft deep at its deepest point. This river has a legend of a great beast as old as Muthbrook itself. It is said, where the river runs shallow, there lurks a great hole in the earth where a giant ratakat resides. It was a story that spurred frenzy amongst the hunters of Muthbrook. The best of hunters have tried to kill it over the centuries. It was a legend everyone knew until I helped silence it. This is where my ship was wrecked all those years ago. Right up on that bank there.”
The sun was rising higher and the heat was becoming extreme for Ethel. A heavy glaze of sweat slicked his arms and back and his heart was thumping from the reaction Irfan might have about his daughter’s pregnancy. But the older man just kept talking about the legend that made him infamous and Ethel wondered if the man was capable of thinking about anyone other than himself.
“The story was a lie,” said Irfan.
“Which one?” asked Ethel. “Yours or the legend about the beast?”
“Both. There’s no beast here,” said Irfan. “I was so headstrong and determined to catch the damn thing I led my crew into these waters at the trough of the tide and ran us aground. Our boat hit a massive oyster bed and cracked the hull like an egg. The tide was so low we dropped into knee deep worth of mud when we abandoned ship. We camped out on that riverbank for two days and three nights. We saw the tide rise and fall several times over and that monster was nowhere to be seen. The men were ashamed of our folly. To save face, they all made a pact to say it was the beast that destroyed our boat. No one dared face the embarrassment of the truth and I was the one who would suffer most, should the truth be let out.”
Ethel’s rifle slipped from underneath him for having leaned in so much, but he caught himself and asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Why did you come with me today?” asked Irfan.
Ethel struggled to reply in Caltu with an answer as meaningful and connected to his heart as the one he would have given in Rulei. In Ethel’s search for the perfect words Irfan answered his own question, “You care for Bailey very much. I can tell.”
Ethel dropped his fear of sounding ridiculous in that moment and said, “I do, and I care for the family that will come from it. I care to be a bigger part of your family and I care for you to be a bigger part of mine.” Ethel paused in a frantic search for the words his mind was already feeding him in Rulei, he caught himself speaking his language, then translated, “I’m a fool for not having asked for your daughter’s hand in marriage sooner but that’s really why I came.”
Irfan’s gaze slowly turned onto Ethel and the older man’s lips twitched.
“I’ve been thinking about a way I could pull you away from Bailey and talk to you one on one long before I even sat on that train to Muthbrook. I’ve been planning on proposing but, couldn’t dare do so without your blessing. I’ve been waiting all this time to do it.”
Irfan’s eyes went thin, “So you risked your life coming out here with me to kill some legendary, mythical, monster without ever having hunted a mouse because you wanted to get me alone long enough to gather the balls and ask me for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”
Ethel struggled with the translation, not sure Irfan meant to say balls and worried he understood that wrong.
“Yes,” he answered, “If you told me that thing was real and we failed to see it today, I’d come out here with you tomorrow and risk my life again all the same.”
Irfan smiled, “Even if I said yes.”
Ethel drew closer and feigned not to understand, “No, I’m sorry I don’t think I understand.”
Irfan shoved Ethel aside and said, “Don’t play dumb, you understood just fine.”
That evening, Ethel and Irfan returned to a grand reception on the docks. It seemed the rumor had spread that Irfan had finally fixed his boat and would try to hunt the monster that wrecked his boat and his crew’s dignity. The crowd tightened around Irfan’s boat to see if he had returned with a limb or some trophy of victory from the beast and as several men approached, Ethel wondered how many of them had been part of Irfan’s crew. How many of them were too worried about their dignity to let the world know the truth.
When they saw there was no trophy, the crowd quickly dispersed leaving only those that mattered behind. Bailey and Fabiana stood beside one of the dock pillars looking worried as ever for Ethel and Irfan.
After tying the boat to the docks, Irfan rose with a smile, spread his arms, and ran for his wife as he said, “We’re going to have a grandchild!”
“A grandchild?” asked Fabiana.
Irfan embraced his wife, gave her a great kiss, and said, “But most importantly, we have a new son!”
John Martinez on Nostr: A bit of a read, but I hope you like it! ...
A bit of a read, but I hope you like it!
