Day 60,
Just can’t work up the motivation to go back into the Village today after yesterday’s encounter with Theo. Think I might take a walk in the woods behind the house.
I went out to the stream in the woods, and this time instead of following it downstream to the sea I traced it back up to its source. It was a nice day for it. The sun was shining bright but the shade from the trees and the coolness of the stream kept it from being overbearing. The birds and the frogs were singing, giving a chorus to the background melody of the running water. All in all, an effective way to distract myself from other worries.
Eventually, I came to the source of the stream, a broad natural pool that I assume has a spring in its depths. Fairly shallow and gently sloping at its edges, but after getting to around chest-deep (on me anyway) it drops off sharply to a blue-black void that I couldn’t see the bottom of, despite the water’s clarity.
Doffing my boots and carrying them in one hand, I waded in a short ways as I walked the perimeter of the spring. It’s curious how unafraid the fish and turtles swimming the shallows were of me. Most I could practically get within arm’s length before they darted away, and if I stood still for a few minutes, small schools of finger-length yellow fish would congregate in my shadow.
On the far shore I found what looked to be the remnants of a campsite. As far as I could tell (which is, admittedly, not very far at all) it didn’t seem to have been used recently. Satisfied with that probable privacy and starting to feel the heat of the sun now that it was past noon and I was out of the shade, I decided to do as I’d previously done at the beach and get down to my smallclothes for a swim. One of these market days I need to look into getting proper swimwear rather than repeatedly diving into the water in my underwear.
The spring water was colder than the sea, which was to be expected really, especially after having been wading in it for a while, but it hits differently when fully immersed. Still, I acclimated soon enough and went on to enjoy that simple joy of movement partially freed of gravity.
Initially, I stuck to the shallows, some primal fear keeping me from swimming out over spaces where I couldn’t see the bottom. Eventually I worked up the proper mix of curiosity and courage though. Mostly by not looking down until I was out over the center. Once I did, it was equal parts unsettling and awe-inspiring. Spiraling down below me, swimming in great layered circles were schools of fish in greater quantity and variety of species than I would have imagined in an isolated body of water like this. Long plants lined the not quite vertical walls the slope had turned into, waving like streamers in the flow of the prevailing upward current. And yet still, situated near directly over the center with the sun not long past its noontime zenith I could not make out a bottom. Surely it must stretch down below sea level at a bare minimum.
It crossed my mind to wonder if this could be that Endless Abyss I’d been warned of, but I heard no voices beckoning me down. If anything, my instinct was to flee. Floating above seemingly nothing like that, I might have immediately retreated to the shore were I not mesmerized by the show of life’s variety in the intervening space. As it was, I merely allowed the current to push me back towards the edge. It was mild but I’d still had to swim against it to get out to the middle. And now it gently took me back towards the stream I came from, slowly picking up speed as I approached that narrow, shallow channel cut through the outer ring of shore. For some minutes I laid there, floating on my back with my eyes closed, my body at a comfortable equilibrium between the sun’s warmth and the water’s cool.
I was roused from my reverie by brushing up against the floor of the shallows. I took that as my cue to make my way back to where I’d left my clothes. Although when I looked back that way I could make out a bright red figure standing at the campsite.
I called out and waved, and Maiko – for it was her – tensed as if to run, and then relaxed and tentatively waved back. Suddenly self-conscious of my current state of undress now that someone was present and paying attention to me, I elected to swim back rather than walk, hoping it would… display less, even if it took a little bit longer with not being quite willing to go out over the well-like center of the spring again.
There was some degree of awkwardness once I got in easy talking distance, first in assuring her that I encountered her purely by coincidence and wasn’t trying to hunt or stalk her, and then in being asked why I wasn’t getting out of the water. As to the former, once I explained that I had simply been curious about where the stream originated and was following it to try to take my mind off other troubles Maiko apologized, saying that being hunted if she revealed herself had been a fear of hers for a long time, so seeing anyone out where she expected to be alone had her on edge. As to the latter, I found myself at a stammering loss for words, particularly once I realized that this close, the clear water wasn’t really hiding anything. And so I stood up and walked to the edge of the water and out, muttering something that may or may not have been coherent. As I stood there, shaking the water off me and wringing out of my hair while hoping the sun would dry me quickly, I attempted to mentally reassure myself that if there was anyone I ought to be comfortable around while not wearing much it’s Maiko.
That said, when she gestured to my pile of clothes on the ground and started asking why I’d worn them all the way out here just to take them off, I gave a non-answer and hastily changed the subject to why she’d come out here today. Fishing and fresh water was the answer.
This was enough to remind me that I hadn’t yet eaten lunch. One audible stomach rumble interrupting her explanation of how she intended to fish without a pole or net later and she offered to share her catch with me. Before I could properly decline she was already slipping into the water and paddling out toward the center of the spring.
From the shore I could see her dive down once she got over that dropoff. Long enough later that I was starting to get concerned I saw her head break the surface long enough to take a breath and then go down a second time. Another disconcertingly long wait and she surfaced again and began making her way back, somewhat slower this time.
As she got closer, I realized she was carrying a fish in her mouth. Once she got in shallow enough water to stand up she threw a second fish at me that I failed spectacularly to catch, getting hit in the chest with it, flinching, flailing to catch it as it bounced off and fell, managing to sort of get it between my forearms and elbows, and then freaking out and dropping it at the sensation of wet fish scales on my skin.
As I gingerly picked the fallen fish up off the stony ground with two fingers, I heard a soft snort that was probably the closest to a laugh I’ve heard out of Maiko to date. As to the fish itself, there was a visible bite mark near its neck. Not sure if that was how she killed it, a result of carrying it in her mouth while catching the other fish, or both.
Still keeping my eyes on the fish, trying to figure out what to do with it, I thanked Maiko for it. I heard an “uh huh” of acknowledgement, followed by a terrible squelching and cracking noise. I snapped my head up to see Maiko biting into her fish and beginning to devour it raw, organs, bones, and all.
Noticing me staring, she paused and asked why I was looking at her like that. Trying not to focus on the darker red of the fish blood contrasting with the chin it was running down, I said that I was trying to figure out how to eat it. This confused her, and when she said to just bite into it I tried to explain that my teeth weren’t sharp enough to pierce the scales. My jaws not strong enough to rip the flesh unaided. My throat likely to choke if I tried to swallow a bone. And my stomach too weak to eat it raw without getting sick (well, maybe I could handle the flesh, sushi being a thing and all, but probably not the organs and eyes).
This led to a conversation about me being unbelievably fragile, me saying it’s a general human thing, awkward apologizing since I wasn’t sure if she considered herself human or not, confusion about what I was apologizing for and assurance that she knew what I meant by “human”, clarification she didn’t have a word for what she is but knew that “human” described myself and the villagers, offer to make a fire there at the campsite if I wasn’t going to eat the fish raw, and eventual agreement to take it back to the house to cut up before cooking.
Back at the house, attempting to clean and cook the fish was an adventure in and of itself as I had only the vaguest idea of how to go about doing so. By the end of it I had two small, misshapen fillets to cook, a cut on my hand and an inexpertly butchered fish carcass sprinkled with my blood. Fortunately, after cleaning and bandaging the wound with Maiko’s help it wasn’t as bad as it initially looked. And it was my off hand, or else I probably wouldn’t be writing all of this tonight.
Eventually the fillets were cooked and tasted passable. Maiko claimed the rest that I didn’t intend to eat, complaining about how much I was wasting. To my relief she at least rinsed my blood off it before consuming. Some of the… softer bits… she tossed into the cook pan while I wasn’t looking “for variety.” Apparently just because she doesn’t mind raw meat that doesn’t mean she dislikes cooked.
The meal itself was largely in silence, and by the time we finished it was well into the late afternoon, and Maiko excused herself saying that she ought to be getting back to her own campsite. Not the one I’d run into her at, but I didn’t push to ask for the location. Before she left she asked if I’d be alright on my own with my cut. I told her I thought I would be. Pausing on the porch steps one final time, she said that it was nice to have someone to talk to again and then ran off into the woods before I could form a reply.
A couple of hours after she left, fears about the cut maybe being worse than I thought afterall even though I felt fine started to creep in. Thoughts of possibility of infection kept popping into my mind and I have to resist the urge to keep poking at it. Three or four times already I’ve had to stop myself from peeling off the bandages to take a look at the wound to assure myself it was alright even though consciously I know that would be nothing but counterproductive. I wavered back and forth long enough on whether to go to the Village to get it looked at by Lin or her father that it got dark outside and made the decision for me to wait until morning.
Honestly, part of the reason this entry’s rambled on so long was to keep me from obsessing over it until I was tired enough to fall asleep. But at this point I’ve about run out of things to say and my eyes are drooping so hopefully that will work out.
