WRITTEN BY BHAGATH SUBRAMANIAN
I. THE LAND KNOWS
He was hearing whispers in the reeds. The soft creaking from the stalks as they moved in the breeze. It was something he’s learned to pay attention to. The rubbing of the stalks. When he listened to it long enough, those soft creaks turned to hushes hissed in-between knowing flicks of hundreds of tiny, unseen tongues. They were exchanging secrets in the moonlight. They were talking.
Was it about him?
His knees bent slightly to one way, and his feet shifted in the mud then sank to an irrelevant depth. The wind was slowly beginning to change its direction. It came in from the west and made him turn his head.
The air began to smell of salt.
“Oi, Exley. C’mon.”
Gordon was waving at him from the Charger. He started the engine, and the high beams came on. The light bathed the reeds in a sickly yellow.
Exley shielded his face, “Put it down!”
The lights dipped. Exley quickly turned back to the reeds. They were folded in onto themselves, and went quiet.
He began to trudge back to the car, swinging his camera in his other hand.
Gordon reached into his coat and put his hand over a pack of Pall Malls, contemplating what he should do next as he watched Exley awkwardly swing the door open and slink into the driver’s seat. He looked over at Gordon and signaled for the glove compartment. An empty hand pulled out of Gordon’s jacket and popped the glove, and then handed over a flask to Exley.
Exley shut the door of the car and put his camera away in the backseat. Then he just sat there, staring into the dark reeds through the windshield. He thumbed the leather cover on his flask and let his mouth go dry.
“Did ya get anything good?” he asked.
Exley’s body took a moment to react to being asked a question. He used it to play with the ring on the flask’s cap, making it go round, squeaking.
“Gonna sell em to the paper?”
“Anything on the radio?”
“Just tourists. Some fight down by Willow street.”
“We could go check it out,” Exley said.
“That was half an hour ago.”
Exley found some solace out in the marsh. He found things that unsettled him as well, but that was usually of his own production, not the marsh. There were things out there that he could grapple with. But being back in the car made it feel empty again. Boredom would follow soon.
Exley sighed, and tilted the flask into his mouth- the last of the bourbon dribbled out. He put the flask into his pocket and began pulling on his seatbelt.
“Where we headed?” asked Gordon.
Exley began to slowly roll the car back down the muddy road. He could feel the low grumble of the vehicle in his jaw.
“We’ll see.”
He looked at the rearview mirror, then out the windshield. He watched the headlights retract from the reeds. He caught glimpses of them beginning to sway again just as the light left them. They were back to whispering unseen.
They were talking about him.
He wondered why.
He kept thinking about the reeds and the kind of things that fester there when no one is watching. His mind drifted back into that marsh as his body, strapped into the Charger, hurtled back down the road towards Perthaume. Slowly, he began to hear the whispering.
It was interrupted by the loud crackle of the radio.
II. KALIWAKKA
Captain Dover stared at the clock above the door to his office. Twenty-two minutes since he’d asked dispatch to tell Exley to look into the missing Okanagan kid. Fifteen since he sat down with his bowl of soup. 1:27AM.
The oil was beginning to separate from the rest of the soup. It was collecting into a thin layer above the rest of the cream of tomato. Captain Dover suspected that he might have left it in the microwave for too long. Again.
He shoved the bowl over to the edge of his desk. He’d gulp it all down in one go once it was cold, like gazpacho. He turned back over to his computer and-
That’s the problem. He’d decided to ignore the soup for now, embarrassingly leaving him with no idea what to do right now.
There was light knocking on the door.
“Yeah?”
It cracked open just enough for Amelia to slip her head through.
“Finally managed to get ahold of Exley”
“And?”
“He’s headed to Willow Creek 7 right now, sir.”
The Captain nodded. He turned away from Amelia and began staring at his computer screen. It was only then that he noticed it was turned off.
He tried to get it to turn on.
“He was asking about jurisdiction,” said Amelia.
“Hmm?”
Amelia walked over to behind the screen and pushed the correct button.
The screen flashed a bright blue as it powered up. The Captain flinched.
“Jurisdiction, sir.”
“What about it?”
“I told them that we don’t have jurisdiction on Syilx reservations. Which is, correct?”
The Captain shrugged.
“The girl was last seen heading towards the coast, up North. If Exley has a problem with jurisdiction, you call him and tell him that if she’s wandered then she’s probably closer to Perthaume than Willow Creek 7 anyways.”
Amelia nodded. She turned towards the door ever so slightly on the balls of her feet, then stopped.
“He sounded drunk”
“He’s with Gordon, right?”
“That’s right.
“Hmm.”
The Captain began to stir his bowl of tomato soup.
“What about you? Big day with the kids tomorrow, I hear.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “They’re finally coming up this way.”
The Captain chuckled. “They excited?”
“Actually, yeah. They wanna wake up early and try to catch Kaliwakka,” a smile spread across her face.
“Their best bet would be the gift shop at the pier,” said the Captain.
“Well, it’s the most excited they’ve ever been for 6AM. And if sea monsters are why, then I’ll take it.”
“Y’know, my grandfather used to say he saw Kaliwakka once, out on the water.”
Amelia smiled at that.
“Then again he said a lot of things.” He began stirring his soup. “He once said that he played chess against a pod of dolphins- and lost.”
He turned to face Amelia.
“I worry about Exley,” he said. “He spends the whole year trudging about in that marsh saying nothing to nobody, and then spends the entirety of last week talking about the day his father died. I mean, how do I even begin with a man like that?”
“Are you letting him go? After the hearing?” Amelia asked.
“At this point,” said the Captain, “it doesn’t matter to me if Exley put an innocent man behind bars or not. What matters to me is that his incompetence was on display for the entire province.”
He pointed a finger at Amelia.
“Perthaume needs a newer police force. Stronger. Sharper.”
“And men like Exley have no place in that future?”
“Amelia,” said Captain Dover, “I retire next year. Best I can do is leave the department in an easier state to run for the next guy.”
III. WILLOW CREEK 7
Duane watched from the edge of the tree line as the Charger pulled into the gas station’s parking lot. It was unmarked, but he could tell it was Perthaume police the second he saw who stepped out of the car.
The two men had already begun talking to one of the volunteers in an orange vest. Duane was no stranger to this situation, and so he decided to pre-emptively walk over before people started asking who was in charge and were answered by fingers pointing at him.
He was close enough to hear them now-
The volunteer turned, moving to raise a finger “Yeah its- yeah, him.”
The man in the scraggly beard began to fumble for his badge.
“I’m Detective Fritz Exley, with the Perthaume- “
“I know,” said Duane.
“-um. Look, we received a report of a missing 9-year-old girl” said Exley.
“Grace. Her name is Grace RedCloud.”
“We’re looking for her parents, y’see?” said Gordon.
“No,” said Duane.
“No?” said Exley.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Her parents didn’t file the report. I don’t know who did.”
“Well, do you mind if we ask a few questions, take a look at the search party?” asked Exley. Gordon pulled out a small notepad.
“I can’t allow that. I don’t know what reasoning brought you two here, but she was last seen on reservation grounds. That makes this reservation business.” Duane laid his palm out, showing them the road back.
“You have to leave.”
Exley just stood there.
Duane stepped closer. “Perthaume police has no jurisdiction on Syilx reservations. Leave, please.”
“If she went up the coast then that makes it- “
“She’s 9,” Duane scoffs. “She’s not going to be able to go the 10 miles on foot.”
“Listen, within jurisdiction or not, we can help- “
“No,” said Duane.
He pointed straight at Exley’s face with one craggy finger. “We don’t’ want your help. I know you. It would make everyone feel better, and let everything run smoother, if you sat this out.”
Duane began to walk back to the tree line, where a small crowd of volunteers had gathered to watch.
Exley watched as one by one, they slowly slipped back into the trees, flipping their flashlights back on.
IV. BREACH
The moonlight shone in the waves, wavering like the strings of some cello made of sea foam and light. Exley trudged along the coast, the frosted beach crunching under the weight of his shoes. He looked up the coastline and saw a few distant lights- Perthaume. In summer it would light up the entire coast and cast a hundred shimmering hues onto the waterfront. He turned around and looked at the dark spot he had emerged from- walled in by black rock. The low rumble of the unseen Charger’s engine was faint against the sound of the waves rushing up to meet the sand. He didn’t know why he was looking for the girl outside Willow Creek 7. He simply felt that he had to. Maybe there were footprints. Or some clothing. He began to use every facet of his reasoning ability to suppress the fact that no 9-year-old could make it this far in this weather, at that time of night.
He began to feel the hairs on his neck stiffen. A sensation began to wash over him. An unpleasant one. It’s something that he was familiar with, but he couldn’t quite place what it was yet. The waves began to quiet down, and the lights from the town and sky seemed to dim as well. All that was left to hear was his breathing.
He turned to face the Pacific and remembered what this sensation was- it was the feeling of being watched.
It was eyeing him from way over there. From its perch on that impossible line, that where no one goes but all ships commit to. Its long limbs stuck out of the water, blacker than the night sky at its darkest. Slender like reeds. It leaned forward, its eyes funneling the moonlight to cast a glow on Exley. All he could make out was a silhouette. Maybe a silhouette is all it needed to be. Tall and lumbering, the Kaliwakka watched him with curiosity while sitting curled in that gap between sea and moon.
Exley felt no fear. He felt like he was being poured out. Like a teacup.
“Oi, Exley!”
He turned to see Gordon making his way towards him from the rocks. “Where’re we headed now?”
Exley turned back to the sea and saw only a tranquil moon dancing on the waves. He watched for quite some time. He saw the first crack of dawn and listened to the sea foam hiss and bubble as the waves broke onto the beach. If he listened long enough, he could hear gentle whispering.
“Exley?”
“Exley?”
“Exley?”
Cover photograph by Bhagath Subramanian.
© Bhagath Subramanian. All rights reserved.