Chapter Nineteen

Fish Galore

Richard keeps to himself the first night at his new home. Few people are near his age. They are probably the ones that Karen referred to as the runaways, people like him. Most of the people here are older than him. They don't pay him much attention that first night. The girl Elsa doesn't make an appearance at dinner. But the food she cooks up is delicious. It's much better than the stuff he used to get back at the boarding home and in the prison for that matter. It actually has taste.

Not knowing what to do after dinner is finished, he goes down to his room and closes the door so that he can have some privacy. He has few belongings in which to fill his dresser. Once he has money, he is sure to buy some new clothes and get a few belongings to make this place seem a little more like home. He smiles to himself. He actually has a room. Things are turning around for him. He wonders how his friends are and if they are doing alright. If he can find some paper and envelopes, he will send them all letters about what has happened.

Someone knocks on his door. He steps up to it cautiously, not sure of what to expect. This is his first night here. Anything can happen to him. He opens it up a smidge and looks out into the hallway. He sees nothing. He opens the door a little wider and comes face to face with Elsa. He steps back in surprise.

"Hello," she says cheerfully.

"Hi," he says. "What… what are you doing here exactly?"

"I'm formally welcoming you to this wonderful home under the sea," she says dramatically with a wave of her hand. "I didn't really get a chance to know you when you first arrived. I was a little preoccupied at the moment."

"I saw," he responds and rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. He has no idea of how to speak to this girl. Words seem to fail him and he longs to retreat back into the safety of his room. "I like your… hair," he says lamely. Really he has no idea if he likes her hair or not, he just wants the awkward silence between them to end.

"Oh, this?" she says and holds up a violet strand of hair. She shrugs. "It's not my favourite colour, but I do love the curls. So I just wanted to pop by and welcome you to the home here. If you ever need anything like food or laundry to be done, I can help you out."

"Thanks," he says.

Elsa smiles at him and whirls around, going back down the hallway in the direction she probably came from.

Richard sighs in relief and slinks back into his room, firmly shutting the door behind him. His palms are sweaty. Adjusting to this place is going to be harder than he thought. He doesn't know what to say to these people if they ask him questions. If he keeps his mouth shut and his head down, he should be able to avoid their questions if they have any.

He falls asleep quickly that night and for the first time in almost five years, Richard feels a little bit happy.

The next morning comes early. He hauls himself out of bed and up the stairs to the dinner hall. A few people are already up as well. Breakfast is already set out. Boxes of cereal are opened and milk jugs and set up. Bowls are stacked up and spoons are set up. He helps himself to some breakfast and sits down at the table, alone. He eats as much as he can. He realizes he has no food for the rest of the day, and he will certainly need it where he's going.

He goes down to the kitchen and begins to snoop around. He finds a few packaged items and water bottle, throwing them all into a plastic bag. He walks back up the stairs and rejoins the others, sort of. He still keeps his distance from them and they don't seem to mind.

Eventually the people start to head up to the docks. Richard follows them at a safe distance. They board a sub that is tied to the dock. It is much like that of the one that transported Richard to Seablite. He takes his seat like the others have and waits for the sub to take him to wherever he is needed.

The sub cuts through the water quickly, going deeper and deeper until it reaches the ocean floor. It breeches the surface of a moon pool and its passengers all clamber out. Richard follows and finds himself in a structure made of metal grates used to keep water from filling up the structure. He follows the others to the kitchen where they will take their breaks. He deposits his plastic bag in the fridge. The others do the same and move off to the work stations.

The work stations are located in long rooms with large metal tables in the center. There are buckets underneath the tables, and sets of knives being brought out to the tables along with aprons, rubber gloves, and goggles. Most of the people head to the gear that lies on the table. Others make their way further down the room to a separate room in the back. He stands there, unsure of where to go or what to do.

One of the workers, an older man, steps towards him. "You're new here, aren't you?" he asks. Richard simply nods. "I guess you'll be part of the guttin' crew." He claps Richard on the shoulder and gently nudges him towards the table.

He looks down at his gear and looks to the others. They are all dressed in stained aprons with goggles. They each clutch their knives in rubber covered hands. Soon he is dressed like them and waits. The men in the back arrive with large plastic boxes filled with recently air drowned fish. The fish is dumped onto the tables. The sides of the table are slightly raised to keep the slippery fish from sliding off. He watches as the others pick up the fish and slide their knives into the bellies of the deceased fish. He stares down at the knife in his hand. He's wielded a knife once before and that was to bestow a parting gift to Doc. He doesn't know what to do with this knife though. He doesn't even know how to gut a fish properly.

"You look like you need some help," the older man says and slides over to where Richard stands.

Richard looks over at him and nods. "I don't know what I'm doing," he says.

"Here," the man says, "I'll show you." He picks up a good sixed fish and sticks his knife into the fish's gut. He slides the knife downwards and twists it, just a bit to pull out the guts in one clean sweep. The gutted fish is tossed into an open crate. The guts are slapped down into a bucket under the table. "There. Now you try."

Richard picks up his knife and takes a fish in his other hand. He slides the knife into the belly, listening to the careful instructions of the old man. He repeats the actions he was shown and guts the fish completely. The man pats him on the shoulder and smiles.

"There you go," he says and smiles. "That wasn't so bad. Now, try it again."

Richard picks up another fish and guts it in the same manner as before. The process continues. Other workers who aren't gutting fish take away the full crates of gutted fish to be put on ice and delivered to Topside and be sold. The full buckets of fish guts are hauled away too. Air drowned fish are continuously dumped onto the table. It's a never ending cycle of sliding the knife into the soft fish and yanking out their guts. The work is tedious, but much better than panning for black pearls.

And so continues Richard's first day of work. Eventually the employees are a given a short break to rest and eat. Again he keeps to himself and doesn't talk. Instead he tries to figure out the people he works with. The older man who showed him how to gut a fish is called Rex. He's quite a large man with scarred hands from working in this place for a very long time.

The bell goes off and the employees go back to their stations and continue to gut the fish.

At the end of the day, Richard smells like fish. Everyone smells like fish. He doesn't like it. In fact, it is a very revolting smell that Richard cannot wait to get rid of, if it can ever be washed off.

Someone sits down beside him on the sub that will take them all back to the home. It's Rex. Obviously he purposely chose this seat since there are many other open seats around than just the one next to Richard.

"Name's Rex," he says and extends a scarred and rough hand in Richard's direction.

Richard takes it and shakes it quickly. "Richard."

"Nice to meet you. How was your first day?"

He shrugs. "I've had worse."

"You like it?"

"I can live with it."

Rex nods his approval. Richard waits silently for him to ask the next questions which he knows is coming. "Heard you were a runaway. Where'd you come from before?"

He doesn't want to answer that. Really, he doesn't. He wants to leave behind his old life. After a moment, he answers, "Boarding home." Hopefully that answer will suffice.

"I see. How do you like it here?"

No follow up questions about his past? This is excellent! "I like it," he says. "It's nice."

"Good. Glad you like it. It's probably better than those stack cities."

"It is." The conversation dies out there. Richard has nothing to say. Rex seems to notice this and allows the young man to sit in silence for the rest of the ride.

Richard steps out a very long shower, feeling clean and smelling it. He get back to his room and looks at his pitiful stash of clothes. They are all hand-me-downs and aren't that spiffy looking. Most likely all of these clothes will become work clothes in the future. Soon he will have no good clothes to wear until he's paid to buy some new pairs. Even then it might not be much money since Karen is keeping over fifty percent of his wages.

He tosses his dirty clothes into a corner of the room. He should have enough clothes after tomorrow to start a small load of laundry. They shouldn't stink up his room too badly. The apron kept off most of the splatter from the fish guts so smell shouldn't be a big problem.

There is still a lot of time left before dinner starts. It would be best to become acquainted with his new home. Maybe he'll be able to find some paper and writing utensils to start a letter to Gemma. He did promise to write her often.

He climbs up the stairs to the first level of the home. He should be able to find some in the office. Hopefully Karen won't mind that he's taking a few things. She seems like a pretty slack landlord. He goes up to the office real quickly and takes a pencil and a few sheets of paper. He decides to stay in his room and write his letters. That way he'll be able to send them away tomorrow.

Using the nightstand as a hard surface to write on, he begins his first letter to Gemma.

Dear Gemma,

I hope you're doing well at the boarding home. What am I saying? Of course you're doing well. You're my little sister. You're the toughest girl out there.

If you're worrying about me, you don't have to. I found a nice place to stay and so far it seems to be working out quite well. The people are nice and the food is good. And I've got a room. My own room, Gem! It's a good place here. Don't worry about me. I'm fine.

Stay tough. I love you

Richard

P.S. Make sure you do your homework. I'm not there to make sure you're doing it.

He finishes the letter, happy with what he wrote. Now to write to his other friends and tell them all the good news, that there is hope for them after all.