Rust

The salty ocean water rots all things, even humans. It turns us rough and deformed. People say in the beginning the ocean was all there was, that it is where we came from. The ocean was just reclaiming what was hers when she decided to submerge us once more.

I used to fantasize about a world with no ocean or rusted metal, where there was such a thing as dirt ground and trees. My brother and I would stay up late at night and talk about all the things we would do. Swim in freshwater that would come out of a rock, like the stories of the old world. We would be able to drink the water as we swam, something inconceivable now that salt water is all there is. We would plan an escape from this rotting ship and ponder on the adventure we would embark on, looking for the last piece of dry land. Our giggles would wake up our mother and she would scold us and demand we go back to sleep.

I think of this as I walk through the crowd of people. We are standing on a retractable platform that is only lowered on these types of events. It stays afloat with buoyancy devices around its edges and the chains that hook it to the ship. I can feel the heat of the sun on my burnt skin. My boils start to itch and some burst as the crowd shoves me, attempting to get a better view of the stage. The excitement of the event distracts them from their miserable lives, but it does not distract me from the gnawing pit that has filled my stomach. I stand on my toes as I travel through the swarm of people until my foot finally reaches something I can step on.

Although I am at a good distance away, I can see the stage clearly. The passage of time and the ocean have turned it rough and orange. The stage is 5 feet away from the ship, having the ocean as a barrier. It consists of a metal platform held up by five glass cages that are six feet tall. Four of them are lit up. The promise of that many performers exhilarates the crowd.

A spindly man stands on the stage. He is wearing a gray vest that exposes his leathery, sunburned skin. Unlike most of us, no boils afflict it. His pants are old and ragged, cut off at mid calf, exposing his bare feet. He announces through the megaphone on his hand “Ladies and gents! It is a pleasure for me, Mark Stranger, to officiate the event this fine afternoon. A few reminders. First, please stay on your platform, remember the stage is only for the performers and yours truly . Second, be a good crowd.” He says with an almost menacing look, “ Last but not least, enjoy and celebrate! Justice will be fulfilled”

The first performer comes up from the stairs behind the stage, and it’s an old lady who can barely walk with the weight of the chains on her wrists and ankles. The crowd boos cruelly at her as Mark announces her crime of thieving. Potable water is all a thief is ever looking for. Mark kicks her to her spot on top of the first glass cage. Her screams of agony being muffled by the cheer of the crowd.

The crowd grows shockingly silent as the second performer comes in. He is tall and muscular, but most peculiar is his light, smooth skin that looks like the sun has not so much as brushed it. I can’t help my mouth opening in awe. I have never seen a more healthy and hydrated human. Looking better than even our host Mark, who is considered wealthy. But once the crowd snaps out of their trance they start hissing at his almost unnatural appearance. He is being accused of trespassing into our ship, and conspiracies of him wanting to steal our food and water make the crowd rattle. But the piece doesn't quite fit the puzzle for me. The crowd starts moving as more people want to take a better look at this man. They force me out of my makeshift stool, that I now notice is a person who had collapsed.

With my small stature and starving body I am able to weave easily through the crowd and reach the railings. Spaces have opened up because people have been pushed over them and fallen into the ocean, having to swim their way back up. I am able to get a better look of the healthy prisoner, who is younger than I thought. The chains look like mere toys on him, as if he could break lose any moment. He is standing wearily, analyzing his surroundings and spotting the soldiers on the stage and the ship, ready to shoot on signal. They are ordered to shoot to immobilize, but never to kill. Only water has the privilege.

Then a woman with a tattered white dress comes onto the stage, and with all of her strength she is holding on to a little boy’s hand. My mother and young brother with their beautiful long dark tresses, moving like waves as they are caressed about by the wind. My mother is putting on a brave face but my brother isn’t doing as well. He is sobbing and his eyes are red. Tears would be dripping down his face if he had any water to give. A heart-shaped locket hangs from his small chest, the reason they are both now standing there.

The heart-shaped locket had been in my mom’s family for generations, until it was finally time to be passed down to me. I was mesmerized by the material of the necklace, it wouldn’t rust and break like the metal I grew up with. “Silver” was what my mom called it. When my brother was born I would let him play with it, watch his small untanned hands hold it tight and then bring it to his mouth. “Don’t eat my heart.” I would warn him playfully, and he'd giggle with that precious toothless smile. He grew up to love the necklace, his eyes longed to see it’s shine and his hands demanded to feel it’s smooth surface. And while his skin turned darker and rough because of the sun, the necklace never did. I had promised that when he turned eight I would pass it on to him just like my mother had passed it on to me. He held onto that promise like barnacles hold on to the ship.

But when his eighth birthday was drawing near I had gotten upset at him for something that now I see was inconsequential. My mom had sided with him, like she always has, and this infuriated me. So out of spite I did something I knew would hurt them. I threw the necklace into the engine room, a place prohibited for people like us. I thought my brother would never dare go near and the necklace would be lost forever. But he did, with his small fragile body being possessed by foolish bravery he ran inside the engine room and my mother behind him. When they came back my brother had the necklace hanging from his neck and two soldiers chasing after them.

“Don’t let them fool you!” Mark says as even the crowd is having a hard time heckling at this sad presentation. “They are violators of the law, criminals!.” The crowd starts booing, but not too enthusiastically. “They were caught trespassing to unauthorized grounds!” The crowd’s enthusiasm grows a bit more and starts jeering more whole-heartedly. “That’s right,” Mark continues “Who knows what evil they were plotting! Perhaps wanting to sabotage this ship! Wanting to destroy it and leave us at the mercy of the Ocean!” Mark exclaims and the crowd goes wild. They start throwing rotten fish guts and seaweed at the stage.

The four performers now stand in their respective places, and before Mark can ask the question, the big man runs towards him. The soldiers monitoring were too shocked to react. He pushes Mark to the ocean easily as he yanks the megaphone from his hand. “Everyone!” he exclaims “I have the solution, look at me. I am proof that potable water and food is not as hard to get as your captain wants you to think. If you let me, I can show you how!” Images of the places my brother and I had created come flooding into my head and my heart thirsts for that world this man declares exists. But just as he finishes saying that a bullet dives through his leg and he winces in pain. The soldiers on the stage take the opportunity to drag him back to his place and shoot the other leg, forcing him to his knees. My mother and brother look terrified. The crowd is dead silent. Before I can fully process my thoughts the soldiers lift up the floor hatches on the stage, and throw all of the performers inside their glass cages, my mother and little brother included. They close the hatches and lock them in.

Mark has swam up to the stage again and retrieves the megaphone, “Well, what a bunch of blobfish was that? Am I right?” He sounds a bit nervous. The crowd is still silent and this infuriates Mark “Am I right?” he pushes “I thought I warned you to be a good crowd today.” Everyone starts agreeing with him shouting, fists rising, but fear in their eyes. “So what do you say? Let's make them dance!” As soon as he says this the crowd seems to forget their previous reluctancy and cheer.

The glass cages start filling up quickly. My heart races as I watch my mother and brother getting submerged in the water. My mother’s previous brave posture quickly collapses as my brother starts struggling to stay afloat. They are looking at each other through the sides of their glass cages, but they cannot touch. I can see her mouthing something to him and my brother nods, he holds on to the heart-locket and smiles just as the water fills up their cages completely.

Suddenly, the crowd gasps. The big man has managed to break the rotted chains on his wrists and ankles and he is now trying to break the glass. I stop breathing as each blow creates more cracks. My mother and brother are completely unaware of what is happening. I secretly hope the man will escape and help them. But as he shatters the glass and gets thrown into the ocean I can see my mother and brother starting to drown. I look desperately between the man and my family, hoping against all odds that he will understand. That he will help me make it right.

His eyes lock into mine, but instead of swimming to them, he swims towards me. I watch as my mother and brother gasp for air but instead inhale the ever invading water of the ocean. They gasp and grasp at the glass walls, until their lungs are filled and they no longer have to ask for air. A wave of emotions overcomes me, my heart feels as if it'll burst, and then the wave goes away and leaves nothing.

The big man makes it my way, he reaches out his hand to me and says “I can show you.” So I reach out to him, I gather all of my strength and push his head down into the water. The crowd notices what I am doing and they come to my aid, helping me keep him down, until he stops fighting. Until all of his power and stories mean nothing, and the ocean carries his body like a feather in the air. I whisper a farewell to his fallen body, “From the ocean we came and to the ocean we shall return.”