Rogue Wave by Isabel Jolie (reading eggs books txt) 📕

water, scattering billions of stars across the smooth rolls. By myself, I probably wouldn’t have even waded out today. But it wasn’t like Gregg and I had other things to do. Gregg and golf meshed, but I wasn’t a member at the clubs. And we’d both rather hang out in the water than on the beach. The sun beat down on our backs, and the only sounds were an occasional crash of a wave and the squawk of a passing seagull.

“So, did you have to deal with COVID where you were?”

“It was a global pandemic.” He gave me that ‘don’t be a fuckwad’ look that he perfected before graduating from high school, and I grinned. “Yeah, it was around, but we didn’t deal with it like you. Fishing boats kept fishing. Without a pandemic, no one gives a shit about fisherman’s lives. What’s anyone gonna care if they get the flu?”

“It was more than the flu.” His lips flatlined.

“I know that.” For some of that time, I was staying in a hotel near the orphanage. I had access to the BBC. I knew what was going on. I strummed my fingers through the water. “What I meant is that the fisherman on the boats in much of Asia aren’t particularly valued. No one lined up to offer them masks.”

“It probably pays well, right? I watched some reality show once about the men in Alaska. I thought of you and the crazy shit you must be doing.”

“Those men in Alaska do get paid well. It’s dangerous work, but they get paid. But the men in other parts of the world…they’re lucky if they get paid at all, and if they do, it’s shit pay.”

“Why do they do it?”

“The promise of money. Or maybe to pay off a debt. But, on a lot of those ships, once they’re on them, they’re on them for life. Or until they lose a limb and can’t work anymore.”

Gregg leaned his arms back on the board, balancing, soaking in the sun. “I suppose it all comes down to financials, right? The fishing boats barely make any money, so they need cheap labor. And what seems like low pay to you is probably a windfall for a lot of those men coming from whatever slum or tribal land. So, it seems off to you, but really, it’s a win-win. And it keeps the whole world going with affordable fish.”

“That’s not a win-win, you dipshit. Subpar working conditions, indentured servitude. Put the barbaric treatment of humans aside, later generations that don’t have fish won’t find it to be such a winning situation. When Earth’s ecosystem is crumbling because our generation cared more about present-day bank accounts than the future, it’s not gonna seem like such a winning proposition.” I gritted my teeth and breathed deeply. My nostrils flared in my peripheral vision.

“I think maybe we should agree to not talk politics. I have friends at home who we had to come to that agreement with, and something tells me that would be better for us.” He slapped the water and peered up at me with a look I knew well. It was the one that said I’ve had enough of this fight. Can we move on?

“Fine. One thing you need to understand, those men go onto those boats under false pretenses. They live in horrible conditions, sleeping below deck in grunge with rats, working almost all their waking hours, and sometimes they’re in chains. They aren’t free to go. There’s nothing winning about their situation.”

Gregg dove off his board into the ocean, kicking his board closer to me. I reached out for it and held it as I watched his broad stroke cross the waves. After a few minutes, he changed course and returned to his board, pulling his body over it like a raft. He wiped his eyes then grinned up at me.

“You know, brother, it occurs me that if we were alive during Civil War times, we’d be one of those families fighting on each side of the war.”

“Are you saying that because you live up north and I live down south, or are you saying that because you’re actually going to try to make a case for slavery?” My muscles tensed, awaiting an answer that might really piss me off.

“No. I don’t believe in slavery. I wouldn’t have supported slavery. Ever. But I probably would’ve understood the economic argument the southern states were trying to make. Regardless, I would’ve fought for the preservation of the union. And so, I suppose that means we would’ve been on the same side. Now, granted, after it was over, I would’ve been one of the first guys down there looking for business opportunities, taking advantage of some good deals, and you would’ve been one of the guys working at the camps of homeless freed slaves, maybe teaching them to read and write or something. Trying to give them job skills. That’s who you are, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s something you should be damn proud of, actually.”

I squinted into the sun, his words ricocheting inside me.

He smiled broadly, his white teeth shimmering over the water. “I guess what that means is my house on planet Earth will always be nicer than yours, but you’re gonna have a better cloud in the afterlife.”

“You are such a schmuck.” He laughed as I scowled at him. The fact that he could so blithely overlook others suffering or the plight of those less fortunate drove me nuts. But I’d never change him. And, like him or not, I’d always love him. “Come on, Richie Rich. Let’s go to Mike’s Ice. You can buy your professionally challenged brother a hot dog.”

Chapter 21

Luna

“Knock, knock,” I shouted from Poppy’s doorway. As I entered her kitchen, the almost empty coffee pot and crumb-laden plate on the counter told me there was a good chance she was still home.

“Hello?” I called.

Loud thumps cascading down the stairs announced her presence. She landed with