Part 5

“What’s he saying?”

“Nothin’. Nonsense about shark spirits. Thank you, sir. We have your statement, and we don’t expect to return.”

“I’m telling you, you should have looked at his teeth,” said the second officer as he walked out the door.

“Quit it right here and leave this thing behind,” ordered the captain, pointing at the floor. The door closed.

* * *

They felt relief when they met. She did a poor job of dressing his hand.

“I’m realizing I’m not very handy. I’ve never been,” she said.

“I agree. Your hand-eye coordination is not very good. Look at this thing,” he swung his hand gently, yet the bandages crinkled and peeled and dropped like leaves. “It’s incredible how bad you are at this,” he laughed.

“I think it means that in my past life I was someone who didn’t have to work with hands. Like an empress—an empress … or a cucumber.”

“A cucumber?”

She exploded in a roaring laugh. “I meant concubine!” His laughter followed, and their laughter filled the night dismantling the sound of the ocean.

They went to the diner hand in hand and with a smile between them. She ordered the chicken Creole from a can, and he ordered the Catch of the Day from the freezer, and the quiet kitchen women fed them, and the cat sat afar.

That night they touched again as if for the first time. At last, she understood who she was, and he understood who he needed to be, and as they connected and writhed in the darkness, his broad mouth bit her hard on the shoulders to keep her from escaping his grasp or disappearing, and she took the pain as respite from Walcott D.

At night, she slept, and he lay next to her gasping for air. His skin itched and turned black with red inflammation surrounding the dark patches. The black skin now enveloped his large pale birthmark, and the dark skin was hard and cold and his human skin hot and sore. The new skin spread over the old as if humanity were the contagion and animal spirit healed it. He crawled into the shower and ran cold water over his skin until the sun came up.

On the last day, they sat under the palm trees slurping coffee and the cat wreathed infinitely between their legs. They smiled as the silver waves crashed silently against the black sand. They went down to the water. Knee-deep, she splashed water on her arms and bitten shoulders to cool the violent sun pressing against her body. Craving salt, he dove quickly and disappeared entirely for a whole long time. She was relieved first and terrified second, and just as the thought of the loss started to curl the corners of her mouth downward, she felt something large scrape along her legs, and when she saw the dark skin with his pale birthmark, she screamed, and he jumped out of the water holding a large bonefish with deep lacerations along its body, shredded yet whole like a soul. She screamed again.

“Lunch,” he exclaimed. They laughed.

They fried the fish, fed the cat, and packed.

“Will you be okay being landlocked?”

“We must move to the seaside. Or maybe to a Ripley’s Aquarium. There in one in Gatlinburg. I’ll be the first shark to jump hoops – It’s a living. It will be the first actual legal contract between a man and a beast.”

They laughed. The cat said nothing and disappeared.