Pusanweb Writing Contest 2002 - Fiction
 
The Water Between the Fish 
December 9, 2002

by Zachary J. George 

Cardboard slipped from the stack on his long rusty cart. He stopped and ducked under the bar. The ankle of his right leg pressed against the ground with each step. His back was permanently bent. His hands were cold and rough like fine grained sandpaper. He wrapped long thin fingers around the flattened box. The hanging tape shook up and down. The flesh on his hand was crumpled like a crushed piece of paper. Hairs poked through above hard blue veins. His face was the same shade as the tape. Deep lines stretched like rivers through spots and patches of lighter skin, circling past his forehead and nose, wrapping around red ridges where blood vessels had popped. Squiggly red lines penetrated the pale yellow hue surrounding his dark black eyes. He laid a piece on the stack. The frayed ends of his sturdy navy pants hung on the heels of his scuffed black shoes. The laces were tied in knots from top to toe. He pulled down the bill of his cap and turned. A wisp of dark black hair hung over the half moon of flesh. His breath rose in the flashing neon night.

His stopping carved out a hole in the clay of Koreans squeezing through the streets. People in gloves and scarves stood in lines waiting to receive gifts based on the amount of money charged on their Lotte cards that month. An old curly haired ajuma stood beneath an orange tent in a bright mismatched sweater and pants. She pried sizzling eels and fish from foil with red tongs. Sweat slid between sprouts of black stubble leaving glistening beads on her purple eyebrows. Loud men in dark suits wobbled back and forth on small wooden benches pushing fingers into one another's chests. They drank soju and smoked cigarettes. The food on the table in front of the aquarium remained untouched. Neon lights flashed outside restaurants, discos, singing rooms and bars. Long white strands hung from the top of the ten story Lotte department store. The same lights were strung around trees set in squares of concrete. They blinked on and off. In their burlap jackets the trees appeared to be shivering right along with those waiting for buses and taxis. Bronze horses reached out over the edge of an empty fountain. Strong jawed faces blew on conch shells, urging the chariot driver forward. Sexy young women danced in a two foot radius around cell phone stands, moving like amateur belly dancers, brushing open the long padded silver jackets to expose tight plastic tops, short skirts, knee high white boots and dark hose. Speakers blared Korean pop songs as teenagers rummaged through tapes and CD's. Girl's in blue school uniforms took turns on the dancing machines. They moved their legs to five different pads below their feet, according to arrows that flashed in front of them on the screen. Some gripped the bars like an unsteady jogger in a fitness club. Boys hit punching bags and kicked soccer balls. Chubby children pulled on their mother's arms in the three story McDonald's. The smell of french fries mixed with the steam of boiling silkworm larvae.

The cardboard was stacked on the plywood base. There was a shiny spot above his lip that looked like a small lake streaming into rivers and branching off across his face. He wrapped his arms around the stack and moved back and forth until all the sides were flush. His head shook. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of string. A woman passed with the imprint of a baby's head under her jacket. Shoppers carried sturdy paper sacks advertising different brands. Some carried the bags together,one on each side. Pointy shoes clip clopped on the concrete. Cell phones rang. A bus driver honked his horn for fifteen seconds before the trapped in taxi driver was able to move. Other buses arrived and ajumas pushed and pulled their way to the front of lines. The old man took off his cap and sniffed. Steam rose from his head. His eyes reflected the blinking neon lights. He licked his cracked purple lips and ducked back under the rusty handle. His legs moved off the concrete like someone pulling gum that had been stuck for a long time. His pace increased to a quarter of those around him. The cell phone dancers sang into microphones. People rushed up and down the subway steps past a man with a cart full of oranges. Couples passed in matching outfits holding hands. The weight of the cart dug into his stomach creating a small cushion around the bar. He gripped the electrical tape with one hand and pushed against his knee with the other. The crowd rushed past him like a film in fast forward leaving behind a trail of black and blue suits.

He crossed the street. Scarves blew across shoulders. Women stood lined up along the sidewalk near the intersection. One filled dough with cinnamon, nuts and brown sugar, flattening the ball and frying it in hot butter. The people under the tent held the Hoat Duck with thin rectangles of cardboard. The woman next to her mixed together red pepper paste and added rice cakes to the rectangular pan. She placed a plastic bag over a plate and spooned up a serving of the Duck Bokki. She handed it to a lady and pointed to forks in a cup of water. An old man shook chestnuts inside a wire cage. A family dipped cups into the water between the processed fish. Steam rose above the red cups fogging up the daughter's glasses. He turned into an alley. Blue and red neon lights bounced on and off the windshield of an old blue truck illuminating the steering wheel. Big gray electrical boxes spit out wires, wrapping them around worn wooden posts. The buildings were shorter and the brick and mortar had crumbled. Two men sat above a beer crate table moving black and white pieces around a board. Sewage rose up through the sewer grates. Litter hunched against the buildings. Big spotted green frogs struggled to climb over one another behind the aquarium glass. Two foot long eels slid above and under one another, tangling and untangling their bodies. Octopuses stuck to the glass. Small concrete steps led up into the entrance of a small shop with faded Coca Cola and Hite signs. The owner slurped noodles from a styrofoam bowl.

He stopped and untied the stack. A woman walked out of an opening in the gray mortar wall. She wore pink rubber gloves that stretched up to her elbows. Curly hair popped out from under her multi-colored scarf. Her breasts hung down to her waist. His back bent lower and she bowed. She pulled the skin off eels while he added the cardboard to his stack. Fog appeared stuck in the headlights of a passing taxi. She poured a bowl of water on the squirming bloody creatures and walked back inside. Tree branches swung back and forth. Black power lines bounced up and down. A woman in a long white coat picked up her crying son. An orange cat stopped between them and licked the bottom of it's paws. It's tail pointed up to the sky like a braid with a piece of wire inside. He lifted the string above the sides of the cardboard, stretching to bring the two ends together. His hands shook. He made a loop and wrapped the string around his finger. He pulled tighter. The string escaped his grip, flinging itself onto the ground. A bead of sweat ran down his nose. He took off his cap and rested his elbows on the stack. The woman returned holding two towels between her gloves and the handles of a big silver pot. She turned her head and poured the water into the sewer. Steam and sewage rose up. The cat ran across the alley and up a set of concrete steps. She tapped the pot against the iron grates and walked back inside. The steam cleared. Clouds blew across the half moon. He walked down the alley and into a neighborhood where there were no lights.

 

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