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Crawfish Kisses


JABaillie

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Hey, this is something I wrote. It's published in my country but not very well-read. Anyway, of all the things I've written it's my favourite. I'd like to hear what people think. It's about abandonment and the world. I'm sorry if it's not good.

Crawfish Kisses by JA Baillie

The river had begun life as a simple creekbed, the sort of thing you could cross without getting your boots wet. A manmade lake had changed all that, using the river's natural pathway as a sort of run-off channel, transforming it from a tepid stream into an irresistible expression of nature's fury. It did so, winding downwards towards the watershed of the lower Quebec countryside, overcoming everything in its path except for a relatively small patch of land that had, through geological happenstance, been easier to go around than through. The river broke on this island like a large rapid, shattering into two babbling brooks before rejoining on the opposite side.

On this island was a large house, and inside this large house lived a little boy. The little boy didn't have a lot of friends, but he did have the river.

Every day, he and Grace would go and wade through the river. Grace was a large, friendly Filipino woman who spoke almost no English. The little boy and her spoke the silent language of understanding. The pair of them would wonder aimlessly for hours without saying a word. Mostly, she would stand there, up to here knees in water and smiling, while the boy would play in the rocks and the mud.

The boy loved the water, loved to swim and to splash, loved the feeling of the current on his body. But more than that, he loved to find rocks and turn them over. He could do this for hours, while Grace watched on in silence, until he found what he was looking for.

The riverbed was home to dozens of bizarre creatures, but none of them interested the boy like the crawfish. Whenever he'd turn over a rock to discover one of the little alien-looking critters, he would smile to himself. He'd look down at their black, expressionless eyes as they lay there, burrowed in the mud, and feel a sense of kinship. After observing them for a time, he'd carefully pick them up and hold them close to his body, careful not to harm them. Perfectly still, perhaps paralyzed by a primal terror, or maybe just appreciative of the affection, the crawfish accepted the embrace without struggle.

After enough time had passed, he'd replace the critter where he'd found it, and look over at Grace. She stood there smiling, nodded a single time, and off they went down the stream.

Muddy, wet, and smelling of crustaceans, he would return home satisfied.

One day, his mother sat him down and told him that Grace wasn't going to be around anymore. She was going back to the city to be with her family. The little boy was sad, but his mother just smiled, and reminded him about how much more time they'd get to spend together.

Knowing that her boy loved the river, she would often attempt to coax him down into the stream with her. The boy resisted, initially, although he wasn't sure why. He would stand and look at the river rushing by and feel a sense of loss. He would eventually relent, unable to justify his fears anymore. It was just a river.

Together they waded through the stream, his mother pointing out of the various birds chirping noisily overhead, while the boy went about his business of turning over rocks until he found what he was looking for. The crawfish looked up at him with those empty eyes he'd grown used to, and the boy smiled. Carefully, he scooped up the little creature and held it close to his body.

“Oh, my boy, my boy!” his mother laughed, suddenly. She was cracking up at the sight. The boy looked at her and her smiling face took on another meaning altogether.

Grace was gone, he reminded himself. She had been a servant. A slave, practically. He thought this, and felt shame.

His mother loved him very much, he reminded himself. She wanted what was best for him. He thought this, and felt shame.

He looked down at the little critter in his hands and squeezed it gently. Slowly, he bent himself in close and gave the slimy crustacean a kiss on what passed for its forehead. Then, he returned it to its muddy home and replaced the rock where he'd found it. “Oh, my boy, my boy!” his mother continued. Silently, he left the riverbed and entered the world.

Thank you for reading.

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