Shark Eating Men

“As a kid the number one item on my bucket list was to swim with a whale shark. I never would have guessed that I’d be swimming with great whites instead,” I began to explain to my sisters date. My family sitting around the table rolled their eyes. They had heard this story a million times before.

“Really?” Vinny said, “You know you are more likely to be killed by a vending machine than a shark? It’s a fact.”

“Callie doesn’t eat from vending machines,” my sister cut in, “She’s an environmentalist.”

My sister, Sophia, said it like it was a bad word. Our family’s money came from oil, but I had always been the black sheep of the family—living a low waste lifestyle, plastic free and growing my own food when I could. I was always sending my family articles on growing native plants and eco friendly products that I endorsed.

Tonight, we were seated around a table at my cousin’s wedding in the Victoria Ballroom of the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise. She was getting married to a very handsome, very traditional Chinese man. She’s not—that is to say, we are not--Chinese, but she wasted no time in appropriating every aspect of the culture down to the superstitions.

A server placed a bowl of soup before me as I spread my crisp white cloth napkin across my lap. Grimacing, I looked into the steaming liquid, “Excuse me, what is this?”

My father was already slurping up the liquid without a thought. The server looked at me, “It’s shark fin soup.”

My jaw clenched. I had not considered what would be served at the wedding. My sister gestured to my bowl and then the server, “She’s an environmentalist.”

The server looked perplexed for a moment, then she grabbed the bowl before me and threaded her way back through the tables filling the ballroom. Vinny slurped at his soup, “You were saying?”

Sophia was no doubt elbowing him under the table, but it was too late. I began detailing how the tasteless shark fins they were all eating were collected, “Sharks of every size are hauled onto boats, their fins savagely cut from their bodies. Then they are dumped back into the water to bleed out. Unable to move!”

Standing up, I slapped my napkin down onto the table. I wanted it to make more of an impact, but of course it was only cloth. I stormed from the room. Outside the air was unseasonably cool for the summer. On the balcony there was a man, smoking a cigarette. He must have been part of the groom’s side I assumed, given that he had a flower tucked into the suit pocket like all the other groomsmen. I shivered against the cold, “Those things will kill you.”

He smiled at me, stubbing it out on the railing he was leaning against before pulling out a silver tin and placing the stub inside. Then he shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it around my shoulders. It smelled of smoke, but I begrudgingly accepted it with a nod of thanks, pulling it closed around me.

After a moment of us looking at each other he said, “I’ve been meaning to quit.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’ve heard that one before.”

He laughed. Both of us leaned against the railing to look out at the mountains. The grand hotel peered out at a lake of turquoise, mountains surrounding both the lake and hotel on all sides. In the winter the snow would be over my head, a castle made of ice and a skating rink on the lake. Today there were numerous tourists enjoying the trail that led around the lake to the glacier. Suddenly he glanced at me, “Would you care for a walk?”

I looked down at my strappy second-hand sandals, “I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

“I can wait,” he said casually. I recognized the hungry look in his eyes as I felt the weight of the silver tin in the pocket of his jacket.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“So do I, but I’ve been looking for a girlfriend as well.”

Interesting, I thought, it was exceptionally rare to meet a fellow polyamorous bisexual person. I started walking to my room, “I’ll be right back.”

Changing into clothing and shoes suitable for hiking I texted my boyfriend to update him on the situation. He texted back just as I was returning to where the man was waiting, “Have fun sweetheart. Wish I could be there.”

I introduced myself as I returned the jacket and learned that his name was Hui and a cousin of the groom. We walked around the lake, back to where the tall cliffs were being scaled by rock climbers, dodging tourists as we went.

“I’m a nature photographer,” I said, recounting my story of swimming with great white sharks as he listened intently. I liked that. How he would maintain eye contact like he was really hearing every word I said. To be fair, my job is incredibly interesting, “Sharks get a bad wrap. It’s my job to correct the man-eating stereotype.”

“We are shark eating men,” he said, his arm looping around mine.

I elbowed him playfully while welcoming the physical contact, “Speak for yourself.”

We stopped to rest at a rocky outcropping, looking back over the lake at the historical hotel. The silence we shared felt comfortable. Glancing down at my feet I studied a group of ants working on expanding their home, “Isn’t it strange how much value we apply to living beings just because of their size or reputation? Why can’t an ant be as important as a lion?”

“A shark as important as you or I?” Hui speculated, pulling his silver cigarette tin from his pocket and spinning it between his fingers. I let him process his thoughts, patiently waiting.

We were startled when a brazen chipmunk jumped onto my lap in search of food. I shooed the striped rodent away with a laugh, “Why is cuteness more valuable than say… sharks consuming dead whales thereby helping clean the ocean of decaying matter?”

Hui puffed out his cheeks, then his eyes roamed from mine down to my legs, “I suppose we like the comfort. The familiarity. A chipmunk is a mammal—we can relate to that. A shark or an ant though, those seem alien.”

“Yes,” I sighed with disappointed understanding, “I want to change that.”

“If your photography is as amazing as your storytelling, I think you have a pretty good chance.”

“Now you are just trying to flatter me,” I grinned, appreciating the compliment.

Hui tucked his silver case away and locked eyes with me, “I think I would like to continue getting to know you.”

“I think I would like that,” I responded, getting up to return to the hotel.

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Written by Kelsey Reich on July 27/2021 in Ontario, Canada.