Our Love Will Go the Way of the Salmon Read Online Free PDF

vacation with my family. I can’t take you home.”
    “Take me with you.”
    “I’m out here catching dinner, not finding new pets. We already have a dog. And a cat. What am I supposed to do with you?”
    “Eat me if you must.”
    “I’m not going to eat you.” Jim shuddered at the thought. “Just tell me what you want.”
    “Help me.”
    “Look, I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know that I can help you.”
    “Let’s be friends.”
    “This is ridiculous.”
    The creature stared at Jim with its blue eyes and he tried in vain to ward off that nagging sense of pity. Blood trickled from the hook wound in the creature’s lip.
    Jim packed up his fishing gear and hoisted the bucket, heavy with perch and seawater. He turned his back on the fish-thing and marched up the beach to his truck.
    Then, sitting in his truck with his fishy hands clutching the steering wheel, he returned his gaze to the beach, where the sad creature still lay on the sand. Why did it not return to the sea? What the fuck was wrong with it?
    Help me.
    “Oh hell,” Jim said. He climbed out of the truck and marched down the beach. He took the fish in his arms and carried it back to the truck. He plopped it into the half-full bucket with the perch because even though it seemed to breathe air just fine, he figured it might need water. It was a futile gesture. Hardly a quarter of the creature fit inside the bucket. It clutched the sides of the bucket, staring down at the dead perch with a blank expression.
    As Jim pulled back onto the highway and drove toward the Motel 6 in town, it occurred to him that fear should have been his initial response to the creature. Why did he not fear it?
    Because it’s so pitiful , he thought. It’s just so damn pitiful. That’s why I don’t fear it .
    Back at the motel, upon lifting the hatch on the camper shell, Jim discovered that the creature had slunk out of the bucket and now cowered in the furthest corner of the truck bed, covering its blue eyes with its unsettlingly human hands.
    It feels shame , Jim thought.
    He turned his attention to the bucket and realized why. The perch were gone. The damned thing had eaten them.
    “You son of a bitch,” he said, and he dropped the tailgate and started to crawl into the back of the truck, prepared to beat the creature. But as he raised his left fist to pummel the thing, it whimpered and in a meek little voice said, “I’m sorry.”
    Jim lowered his fist and shook his head. “That was dinner.”
    “Eat me instead.”
    “No, I can’t do that. What would my wife think if she saw you? What would you even taste like? What are you, anyway?”
    “I’m a fish,” it said. “Like you.”
    “No,” Jim said. “I’m not a fish. I’m a man.”
    The creature uncovered its eyes as a crooked grin split across its face. A fleshy black tongue lolled out of its mouth and traced the peaks and valleys of its dagger teeth.
    “Well then, I must be mistaken,” it said.
    All at once, the pity Jim had felt for the thing was replaced by a sickening dread that weighed on his chest like a sack of stones.
    But it was too late for him. Too late for all of them. His wife, his son, the motel staff, the residents and vacationers in San Simeon, the state of California, the whole Pacific coast, the country, the continent, the world. They would all meet their doom trying to help this hideous thing from the sea. Jim realized this now, as if the thought were implanted in his mind by the thing itself.
    “W-what do you want with me?” Jim stammered.
    The creature lashed out, crossing the truck bed and locking its clawed hands around Jim’s skull in a lightning flash. It must have weighed less than fifty pounds, and yet it was stronger than him, and it dragged him into the back of the truck with ease.
    Darkness slid into the driver’s seat of his mind and Jim felt his chest collapse beneath the stones that seemed to weigh on him. His body turned out to be disposable, but he