I watched the pale squid thrash in the snow. It would thrash, then rest with this awful breathing motion. Then it would thrash again, though a bit less each time.
The wind stung my ears.
The squid was about 30 feet from the water, and about as long as I was tall. The icy lake hardly seemed a more hospitable environment. But clearly it did not come from the tree line above. And I did have mittens on.
I settled on grabbing somewhere in the middle, not wanting to reach into the forest of tentacles and accidentally hit a butthole or something, and not wanting to look the naked creature in the eye. I pictured its flappy lips dragging across the rocky shore and decided rolling it would be safest. The beast had stopped thrashing now, and was just breathing lunglessly. It seemed to avoid my eye. Fine by me.
I wasn’t sure whether it would move at all by the time I got it to the lake. There was about ten feet of rocky tidepool where progress was slow and the squid perfectly still. But when I rolled it into about a foot of water, it bucked and thrashed and was gone.
My socks were wet. My gloved hands stunk of fish. No, a childhood nature book — I must have read Animal Facts! nonstop for at least a few years — corrected me.
Squid Fact! A squid is not a fish, it is a mollusk. While it breathes through gills like a fish, it can survive out of the water for up to a few minutes if the air is moist. But you’re not likely to see one walking down the street!
Damn squid facts.
I walked from the water stinking and shivering. I could see the impression in the snow where the squid lay dying a few minutes prior.
A man appeared at the tree line. He was leading more people toward the water. They were a small people, and seemed clumsy.
The man in front led on. I could clearly see the excitement on his face, and I could clearly see it turn to dread as he took in the scene. One by one, the others walked past the same invisible line, like a sieve sifting them of hope. Only the smallest children appeared to make it through undivided.
The man in the front looked horrified. “I swear it was…But what have you done?”
He turned back to the crowd and cried, “Chief, have mercy. Anauit, have mercy on me!”
“Do not speak.” An authoritative voice said. The man in front grew silent, and I prepared to face the chief. He emerged from the crowd. He was small and had small ears.
“What have you done?”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“What have you done!” roared the chief.
“Well, I know this sounds weird, but I was here, and there was this squid right over there. And it was dying. So I pushed it back in or whatever. I think I saved its life.”
“You know what that was. And you saved it? Rescued it to kill our young once more?” The chief’s voice cracked. Tears were on his face.
“I didn’t know anything, bro.” I said.
“You knew. It was shown to you. It was plain to you. We cannot absolve you when you clearly suppress the truth. The stink is on your hands. Your feet are dipped in blood.” The chief advanced. The crowd followed.
“Listen, listen to me. I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what you are talking about.” I said.
The chief responded with a cold sobriety. “Did you look at its eyes?”
“What are you talking about, old man?” I said.
“His eyes, you fool! The devil’s eyes! Or did you look away?”
My left foot felt colder than my right. I had backed into the water again. The crowd pressed in.
“You are without excuse.” The chief said. The rage was gone from his voice. He turned and looked at three young ones grouped together. He wept unceremoniously for the small beating hearts behind his own.
“What did I do wrong?” I said.
“You are without excuse.” He repeated.
Now my right foot was in the water too. And it grabbed my left and pulled. And my chin split open on a rock. And the world was burning and spinning and darkening. When the spinning stopped, the burning started in earnest. And with the last bit of light, I looked at the squid for the first time.
It was no longer pinkish grey, but a fiery red and gold. Its length was not my height. It was maybe four times my height. And when I looked in its eye, I knew the chief was right. I knew why their tears flowed without shame. I was a fool, and without excuse. Here was death, and I saved its life. I looked away and did what I thought was right. But I was wrong.
I looked away then, too, as it reeled me in by my ankle, into the tangle of tentacles.
As the digestion process began, I reached into the greasy basket for a second bite.
“And how is that appetizer tasting? Are we ready to order?”
“It’s so fucking good, Craig.” Jen said, laughing as she popped another deep fried circle into her mouth with her hands. “Honestly, I think I’ll just have another order of calamari fries for dinner. And one more of these.” She pointed to her drink and winked at Craig.
“Wonderful. And for you, sir?” He looked at me respectfully.
I considered the fried mollusk in my hand.
Squid Fact! Squid have donut-shaped brains, and their esophagus passes directly through the middle. If squid swallow food that is too large, they can damage their brain. Careful what you eat, little guys!
“Yeah, same for me,” I said, handing him my menu. I popped the bite into my mouth.
Digestion continued.