[Fiction] Lobster Queen

By Pyper Haarala

“Lobsters don’t scream when they die.”

Cooper’s eyes flashed to the wailing pot behind Val’s shoulder.

"What’s it doing now?” he asked as the shrill whine reached a crescendo.

"The heat is pushing out any air that was trapped under the shell,” Val explained. She slid her fingers under the shell of the cooked lobster in her hands, gently peeling the tail away from the plump meat underneath. Cooper’s constant chatter would shatter the focus of someone less experienced, but Val learned long ago that a bland response discouraged him more than silence.

"Still sounds like screaming, but you’re the lobster queen and if you say they’re not experiencing excruciating torture, who am I to argue?”

"They feel pain, but they don’t scream.” Val slid a knife through the white flesh in front of her.

The back door slammed opened. Val’s father, Dan, burst into the kitchen. In his arms, he cradled a worn crate filled with dented cans of tuna. The bitter scent of sweat and sea salt clung to him. Splashes of rain dripped from his scruffy brown beard.

"Cooper!” Dan shouted. “Your shift ended an hour ago. I’m not paying you to be here.”

"I know, sir, but I didn’t want to leave Val alone with the lobsters. I’d hate for her to get pinched in my absence.”

"You’ve been pinched more than me.” Val sighed as she eyed the stove Cooper blocked.

"Cooper. Go home,” Dan insisted.

"I’ll be back first thing in the morning.  Don’t you worry about me.”

Cooper pulled his rain jacket from the coat rack and slung it around his shoulders. His knobby elbows poked out from two worn down holes in the jacket’s thin blue rubber. He slipped out of the kitchen, but Val and Dan didn’t speak until they heard the bell at the front of the restaurant rattle to confirm his final exit.

Dan dropped the crate by the door. The cans inside rattled against each other, threatening to slide onto the floor.

"I got a good deal on tuna,” he said.

Val lifted her eyebrows, “I can bait the traps tonight. I expect the drizzle to pass within the hour.”

"Are you sure? You don’t need to.”

Val nodded as she reached for another lobster to chop.

"You could always take the nights off,” Dan suggested. He pulled off his rainhat and ran a hand through the damp tufts of his thinning hair.

"You need help here,” Val reminded him.

"But not every night,” Dan assured her. He squeezed the wet hat, wringing it between his fists even after all the water had fallen from it. “You could ride around town with your schoolmates sometimes. With Cooper even.”

"Not Cooper.”

"Someone else then. Some of your friends.”

"I’m happy here, Dad.”

"Val,” Dan sighed. “Do you…could  you look at me for a second?”

Val glanced up, her hands so familiar with the shape of the lobster that she didn’t need to look down to peel it, but Dan’s shifting eyes convinced her to let the work rest for a moment.

Dan cleared his throat.

"I know it hasn’t always been easy for the two of us,” he said. “But I do my best for you, I hope you know that, and I don’t want you feeling like you have to stay with me to keep this place afloat. I’ve always done alright, and you deserve to live your life the way you want to.”

Val scratched at the skin around her thumbnail. As much as she enjoyed the fresh air of the sea, she had other reasons for avoiding the heart of town. The whispers that followed the lobster lady raised without a mother were rarely kind. Little girls weren’t designed to toil side by side with the rough men that voyaged uncertain seas, but the opinions of the town did not exist beyond the edge of the shoreline. A life with the lobsters meant a life of peace.

"I hope you’re happy, that’s all,” Dan added. “I don’t want you thinking I’ve messed you up by having you help around here so much.”

His eyes watered, and Val glanced away. She didn’t discuss these topics with Dan. They worked side-by-side, cooking lobsters and laughing until their stomachs hurt, but they refused to think too deeply about anyone else’s view of them.

"I know people have been talking,” Val said, speaking so quietly that she wasn’t sure Dan even heard her speak.

"I’ve heard some of the talk, but I don’t listen.”

"Then you shouldn’t, either,” Val insisted. "If you promise to ignore what they say, I won’t listen when they tell me that you’re anything except the best father in the world.”

A sad smile crept to Dan’s face.

A crack of sunlight slid through the window, signaling that the rain had blown away for the moment.

"I should go. The traps,” Val sputtered out. She stumbled towards the door, pulling on her boots as she walked. With a brush of her hand, she swept three cans of tuna into her arms.

"Val, you –”

"There isn’t much daylight left. I don’t want to waste it.”

She threw herself out the door before he could call her back. The door echoed as it rattled shut behind her.

Her rubber boots slapped across the dock. Fluffy green moss crawled across the wooden slats, serving as an extra cushion under her feet. Val’s skiff rocked against the edge of the dock, held firmly in place by the tight hitches she had fastened earlier that morning. Lingering raindrops dotted the three metal traps that sat stacked in the front of the boat.

Val hopped into the skiff. Her fingers slid through the knots to free herself from the dock. With a hard yank on the starter rope, she pulled the motor to life and puttered into the bay.

The lake water was glass after the storm, untouched save for the soft rings that radiated from Val’s boat. A flat, gray sky hung overhead, but a crack of white sunlight pushed through between a slit in the cloud cover.

Val pried the tuna cans open and shook the meat out across the traps. The tuna crumbles fell unevenly through the metal, but Val didn’t stop to rearrange the bait. She pushed the traps over the edge of the boat and sped off into the lake.

The motor purred as she cruised past the commercial fishing docks. Nicked flagpoles and crumbling wood lined the base of the tree line. Oil swirled along the surface of the water, leaking from cracked gas canisters and holey boats. She wove between the bright orange buoys that marked the traps hidden beneath the waves.

Val drove away from the sun, plunging further into darkness. She curved around the edge of the shore, sliding around a small peninsula and crossing over to the southern half of the bay. Even shrouded in shadow, the large houses glittered. Boisterous red speedboats and luxurious pontoons floated at the edge of sparkling steel docks. Their reflections loomed over the water, towering over Val and her tiny skiff.

Despite the missing sun, Val didn’t mind the low light. She could disappear in the water, and it wasn’t so dark that she needed to turn on her running lights and attract more attention to herself.

A lone silhouette waited at the edge of one of the docks. She was motionless against the sea air, protected by the warmth of the long fur coat that she hugged tight around herself. Val would have thought the shadowy figure to be a marvelous statue if not for the slight breeze that ruffled the edges of her hair.

Val leaned forward and kicked the empty tuna cans until they were all hidden beneath the bench she sat on.

She drove her boat to the edge of the dock. The motor puttered behind her, too weak to be heard by anyone walking the shoreline.

The woman hopped down into Val’s skiff, her auburn ringlets bouncing as she landed on the bench across from Val. Val ran her hand over the knitted cap that held her tangle of dark hair in place. A brief smile flitted across her face before she spurred the motor and drove them into the center of the lake, too far for any peeping housewives to spy them from between the cracks in their drawn curtains.

"I always think the sharks are going to get me out here,” Elsie said.

"Sharks don’t come this close to land,” Val promised. She squinted as she looked beyond the boat, searching their path for any hidden dangers. “Wait, look over there. What’s that?”

Elsie’s eyes widened. Her red-tipped fingers gripped the edge of the skiff as she peered into the water.

Val twisted the throttle, and a spurt of icy water kissed Elsie’s cheek.

Elsie gasped and reached over the edge of the skiff to splash at Val. Her aim was poor, and she succeeded only in further moistening the outer surface of the boat.

When the lights lining the edges of the docks were no more than pinpricks, Val slowed the skiff to a stop and cut the motor. The soft patter of waves slapping the edge of the boat filled their ears.

Elsie leaned back, resting her arms on either edge of the skiff and stretching out her legs until her toes poked at Val. She glanced up at the sky, and the stars above reflected into her gentle, dark eyes.

"Where does your dad think you are when you run off with me?” Elsie asked.

"Alone in my thoughts,” Val explained. “Maybe that’s why he’s always worried about me.”

Elsie snorted, “Yeah, that could be a reason.”

"Well, where do your parents think you are? There’s no way they’d believe you’re just dangling your toes off the edge of the dock.”

"I just tell them I’m going out. Once they hear the door shut, they don’t check if I head to my car or the dock.” Elsie rolled her head to the side, casting a lazy glance in the direction of her home.

"I wish I could get away with that one,” Val told her. "Dan is always pushing me to go hang out in town, but I know he’d never let me get away without asking me a million questions first. He seems to think I should hang out with Cooper, too.”

"You do spend a lot of time with him.”

"Cooper?”

"Yeah. Maybe I should be worried,” Elsie suggested with raised eyebrows.

"No, never. That’s silly. You know it.”

Elsie leaned forward, so close that Val could smell the dissolved peppermint that Elsie must have popped in her mouth on her walk to the dock.

"Prove it,” Elsie winked.

Val pressed her lips to Elsie’s, savoring the taste of her sweet strawberry lip balm. Val blushed when she realized she’d had lobster bisque for dinner, worrying the flavor still lingered on her tongue.

Val leaned forward, but as her weight shifted, the boat slid backwards beneath her. She tumbled forward, falling on Elsie and landing on the skiff’s hull in a fit of giggles.

Elsie stared at the sky a moment before turning back to Val.

Her hair fell into her eyes. Val reached out to push the silky locks behind Elsie’s ear.

Elsie pulled back with a frown tugging at the corners of her lips.

"What?” Val asked, running a hand across the edge of her mouth.

Elsie glanced away, looking back at the fading sunlight above.

"We only do this in the dark,” she finally said.

"That’s the point.”

Elsie wrestled herself into a sitting position. She looked down at Val.

"I come here to see you. Not to hide,” Elsie said.

"That’s not true. You would bring me into your house if it was.”

"Does it have to be like this? Running around in the dark and sharing kisses only where the waves are too loud for us to be heard?”

A thousand barbs ran across Val’s tongue, but she swallowed the jabs before she let herself speak the bitter thoughts aloud.

"Where is this coming from?” Val asked.

Elsie’s shoulders heaved, but she refused to break eye contact with Val.

"I told my parents.”

"Told them what?”

"Nothing about you! Don’t look at me like that,” Elsie insisted. “I just asked them to consider that a potential explanation for the fact that I don’t bring guys around is because I have no intention of ever bringing any guy around ever. And they were supportive, Val! They just want me to find someone who treats me right.”

"And you didn’t say anything about me?” Val asked, thinking back to the recent gossip her father had alluded to hearing around town. She had assumed it was the usual insults lobbed at the lobster queen, but with the new context of Elsie’s flagrant displays of feeling, perhaps Dan was referring to something deeper.

"No, of course not.”

"But they could have seen me,” Val realized. “My skiff is so out of place on this side of the bay, and it wouldn’t be hard to figure out I’m the one picking you up.”

"So what, Val?”

"My dad knows something is up. He heard rumors in town.”

"And did he care?”

Val paused.

"He told me he’s happy as long as I’m happy.”

"That’s what I’m trying to say,” Elsie said. Her arms gestured wildly as she spoke. "I know this place probably won’t ever be completely safe for us. I’m not saying that we have to dance together at prom or hold hands in town, but maybe we could just look like we’re hanging out. You know, we could get ice cream like friends do, or we could spend time at each other’s houses. I didn’t realize it until I talked to my parents today, but I’m tired of living like we are complete outlaws.”

Val noticed the sparkle in Elsie’s eye as she talked about a dream of such mundane moments. Even as Elise waited for Val’s response, she could not sit still, instead craning her neck over the edges of the boat to assess the size of the tiny waves that slapped against the hull. Val ran a finger along the skiff’s chipped fiberglass bottom. Elsie stretched far above her, unable to be confined by the strictly drawn borders of the boat.

"I can see that this is important to you,” Val said. The words were hardly the assurance Elsie wanted, but Val knew she needed to say something and wanted to buy time until the proper thoughts came to her.

Elsie nodded, “It’s been on my mind for some time now. I don’t want to be the type of person who hides the things that are important to me.”

Val ran her tongue across her teeth. She knew Elsie hadn’t meant to insult her, but Val was indeed the type of person who hid the people who mattered most. Neighbors and classmates and strangers alike had never shown her kindness, always staring at her as though they knew from the moment they saw her that something deep inside her was different from them.

Val thought back to their first kiss in the dark of night after they snuck away from Ron Keller’s house party six months ago, both of them daring to expose a secret that had grown too great to keep from the other. Val had only ever seen Elsie through the lens of shadows and lies. That was what they had implicitly agreed to from the moment their paths grew entangled.

If Elsie had shown this much passion for the public life in their first meetings, Val knew she would have immediately refuted Elsie’s initial advances.

But Val knew those thoughts could never cross her lips, not where Elsie could hear them, not without destroying her.

Elsie studied Val’s contorted face.

"What if you just walked me up to the start of the dock?” Elsie asked. Her hand slid over Val’s, squeezing it tight. “I hate when I look back and realize you’re already gone. I’m not asking you to say hi to anyone. They won’t even see you.”

Val swallowed.

She squeezed Elsie’s hand back.

"I can do that,” she said. “Let’s give it a try.”

A cold wind cast over them. Val yanked the motor to life, knowing they should head back regardless before another storm rolled in.

Elsie smiled at Val, but Val could hardly meet her eyes as she clipped across the growing waves.

Val squeezed the throttle hard enough that the ridges of the handle pressed an imprint onto her hand. She knew she could trust Elsie’s word, and if Elsie promised that her parents wanted the best for her, Val could believe her.

The skiff leaped over a wave.

Elsie laughed as the boat crashed down. Water sprayed them from all sides.

Val smiled at her, memorizing the pointed curve of her chin and the slight dimple that appeared when her mouth burst into a grin.

The skiff approached the end of Elsie’s dock.

Val’s hand shook as she slowed the boat with a slow twist of her wrist.

Elsie leaped out of the boat. Her hair fell into her face as she reached for the ropes that hung from the edge of her dock. Val watched Elsie wince as the heavy, wet rope slid from her uncalloused hands.

Val kicked the boat backwards. The slight motion carried her away from Elsie.

"Where are you going?” Elsie laughed, but the smile soon fell from her face. She dropped the rope from her hands, letting it fall back into the water with a thunderous splash. "Val?”

Val bit her bottom lip.

"I should get back, actually,” she announced. Her hand hesitated over the throttle. She knew a single twitch would send her speeding away into the darkness. “I need to check the lobster traps.”

"You just baited them.”

"The ones from this morning. I need to get them out if a storm’s coming.”

"Val, stop,” Elsie called. She held onto the post at the edge of her dock, leaning forward as though if she reached far enough, the dark water between them would disappear. “I shouldn’t have pushed the issue. Go home if you want, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to say anything to Dan. I don’t mind.”

"But you do. And you will.”

"Val.”

"I have to go.”

"Please…please be safe.”

Val nodded and drove away.

She focused on the choppy water ahead of her. Still, Val listened for the heavy stomp of Elsie’s footsteps. The silence told Val that Elsie remained at the edge of the dock, watching Val leave.

Val followed the curve of the bay. Her skiff bounced against the rising seas, but she refused to slow until she reached the large orange buoys that marked her traps deep beneath. She reached over the edge of the boat and heaved the buoy into the boat. Hand after hand, she pulled on the rope to drag the traps up from far beneath, a simple repetitive motion that held a comfortable familiarity even as the boat bounced unsteady at her feet.

The traps arose empty. The storm must have disturbed the lobsters, but they would be back to their usual patterns soon.

With the traps aboard the skiff, Val turned towards home. She glanced behind her, back towards the southern side of the bay. Commercial fishing wasn’t allowed in front of private residencies, so Val would have no reason to return to that area anytime soon.

When Val pulled up to her dock, she found Dan outside fastening a tarp over his fishing boat.

She killed her motor as she approached the dock and reached for the rope tied to the nearest post.

"Don’t worry, Val!” Dan called. He dropped the edge of his tarp and ran to Val’s skiff, grabbing the rope out of her hands. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

"I can tie up my own boat.”

"It’s cold. You should get in and warm up.” Dan insisted. He held out his hand and pulled her out of the boat. “I have the final batch of lobsters boiling, too. Would you check on those for me?”

She nodded and began walking inside.

"Val,” Dan called.

She stopped to look back at him.

Dan paused for a moment, shifting his weight between his feet as he gathered his words.

"I’m sorry if I upset you earlier,” he finally said. "I didn’t mean to.”

"No, you didn’t,” Val assured him. “Cooper set me off, so I was on edge when you came home. I think he put me behind schedule.”

"The kid is always causing you trouble, isn’t he?” Dan chuckled. "You head inside, then. I’ll handle everything out here.”

Val smiled for him before turning to walk inside.

Just as Dan promised, the lobsters wailed on the stove. Val heard them long before she entered the kitchen. Her footsteps were heavy as she walked deeper inside. She glanced away from the cans of tuna that she had been so excited to see when Dan brought them in just a few hours ago.

Val lifted the lid from the lobster pot.

Steam washed over face as she gazed into the beady eyes of the scarlet crustaceans she had captured only that morning.

Val’s tears fell into the pot, mingling with the screams of the lobsters.

Pyper Haarala is an indigenous writer from Northern Michigan. She currently lives in Colorado and works in data analytics. In her free time, she enjoys hiking, painting, and spending time with her cocker spaniel puppy.