The Voyage of the Morning Light by Marina Endicott

Author:Marina Endicott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2020-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

Mr. Brimner had been told the story of how they acquired Aren, but he asked Aren about it himself, one hot morning while they sat in the shade under the lifeboat. Seaton’s long mahogany leg, vined with black images, dangled above them in the afternoon sun, twitching from time to time as he dreamed his strange visions.

Mr. Brimner had a notebook and pencil on his lap. He did not make notes, but simply sat still, his eyes on the dimpled surface of the waves, talking as if it was of no importance, even though he was so interested.

“What did you do before you came onto this ship?”

Aren looked up from the brass oarlock he was polishing for Cocker. His eyes roamed the rigging, as if he could scarce remember another life. “I did fish,” he said at last.

His voice was thrummy and soft, but at her table Kay heard him clearly. She always could hear him, from wherever he spoke.

“What fish did you fish for?”

“Not should—” Aren faltered for the word. “Not allow-ed to fish with hook only yet.”

Kay hoped he would find the proper words, she hated him to be frustrated.

“Fish, fishing, round hook in—soon,” he said, making a hook shape with his finger. His English had made such leaps that it was odd to hear him fumbling for grammar again. “Teach to fish?” he said, testing it.

“Learn?” asked Mr. Brimner. “You learned to fish?”

“Yes,” Aren said with relief. “I learn-d to fish.”

“What kind of fish did you catch?”

In answer, Aren leapt to the table and his own pencil, and drew a very detailed picture of a fish with a bumped-up head and a frilly top fin, which Mr. Brimner did not know. Mr. Wright, drowsing at the rail because there was no wind at all to deal with, perked up at the mention of fish and came to inspect it.

“That’s a blue-lined sea bream, that is,” he said.

Aren pushed the paper to Mr. Brimner. “This, I am let to fish!”

“Or perhaps it is a dogfish,” Kay said.

“And who did teach you to fish? Was it your father?”

Aren looked at him without understanding. Thea had not taught him that word.

Kay wondered if she had taught him mother.

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