gaucho

It’s gonna burn

Teresa Van Santana

Sep 18, 2022 — 3 min read

My eyes sting so bad I think they’re burning out.

“Relax, William,” Rogger says.

I feel her sturdy arms around me, her coarse beard brushing against my face.

“We’re going to wash them out, all right?”

“What?” I ask. “In the ocean?”

“Yes, that’s the idea, lad.”

“That’s going to burn, isn’t it?”

Rogger grunts in her throat. “Yeah. It’s gonna burn.”

My eyes burn so bad I don’t see how it can get worse.

“All right.”

I feel the weight of me go heavy in two spots, on Rogger’s arms. She’s carrying me, carrying me to the ocean. I’m crying but I can’t tell if it’s from the sand and crab juice or if I’m moved by her exertion to help me.

I hear breaths and smell the pipe tobacco. I hear the sand spraying around as she stomps us toward the sea.

“William!” It’s Pem. “Oh, Rogger, is he all right?”

“He’ll be fine, little kitty,” Rogger says.

Pem mews. “Are you okay, William?”

“My eyes are on fire, Pem.”

“Really? They look okay. Closed and all squinty, but okay. Like when you’re in that room you go to by yourself …”

“Pem?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you catch any fish?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Well why don’t you keep at it, let Rogger fix me up, okay?”

“All right. But I’m right here! Just call my name, and I’m right here!”

“Thanks, Pem.”

I hear Pem darting away through the wet sand, and Rogger’s feet sloshing into the water.

“We’re about to go under, aren’t …”

We go under.

A wave washes my eyes and nose and throat.

I choke.

I spit and gasp for air, blinking my eyes, hoping the fires will go out.

I can see, but everything’s blurry.

“Keep blinkin’, boy,” Rogger says.

I do. “It’s getting better.”

I go under again, snapped by the riptide and hearing the rush and rumble of water around my filled ears. My eyes blink through the water, and this time I feel some relief.

I pull my head up, and my hair goes slick to my scalp. My breath comes easier this time, and I stand on my own.

I can see again.

Rogger’s smiling at me, her old features showing concern and relief at once. “You all right, son?”

“Yes.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Rogger. I was very scared.”

Rogger laughs. “Me too. Crab water often causes permanent blindness.”

My scalp rolls. “What?”

She laughs louder and turns back for the shore. “Didn’t want to worry you. All’s well, as you see. No pun intended.”

I’m dazed but also a bit amused by her laughter.

“We’ll eat well tonight,” Rogger says.

I look over at the crab as big as I am. “Yes, I suppose we will.”

“Take me a while to prepare it, though. You have a rest.”

I look back to the shack.

“Yes, I think I’m going to sit down for a bit while you do that.”

Rogger nods and gives me a wave but doesn’t look at me.

I look the other way. Pem’s hunting still, mouth and eyes wide, paws slapping after birds and fish.

They won’t notice, I think. I can just slip in there.

I feel my stomach turn with some excitement, some anticipation as I walk back to the shack. It’s very near the crab and Rogger, but she’s not looking. I can just slip in.

I put my hand on the door again, and the thought occurs: why does it matter if they notice?

Next time: The (somewhat) climactic end of Stage 1: “What’s inside.”