The next morning, Jiho used the knife to whittle the ends of two long sticks into sharp points.

“Ready to spear some fish?” he asked. 

“Definitely.”

When we reached the shore, Jiho knelt down and picked something up. “This must be yours,” he said, handing me a dark blue ballet flat.

“It is.” I looked out at the water. “Maybe the other one will wash up.” We waded into the lagoon, hip deep. The heat wasn’t as intolerable in the morning, so I wore Jiho’s T-shirt, instead of just my bra and underwear. The hem soaked up water like a sponge and clung to my thighs. We tried unsuccessfully for over an hour to spear a fish. Small and quick, they scattered as soon as we made any kind of movement.

“Do you think we’d have better luck a little farther out?” I asked.

“I don’t know. The fish are probably bigger, but it might be harder to use the spear.”

I noticed something then, bobbing in the water. “What is that, Jiho?” I shielded my eyes with my hand.

“Where?”

“Straight ahead. Do you see it bobbing up and down?” I pointed at it. Jiho squinted into the distance. “Oh, . Jennie, don’t look.”
 

Too late.
 

Right before he told me not to look, I figured it out. I dropped my spear and threw up in the water.

“He’s going to wash up, so let’s go back to the shore,” Jiho said.

I followed him out of the water. When we reached the sand I threw up again.

“Is he here yet?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Almost.”

“What are we going to do?” Jiho’s voice sounded shaky and unsure. 

“We’re going to have to bury him somewhere. We could use one of our blankets, unless you don’t want to.”

As much as I hated giving up one of our few possessions, wrapping him in a blanket seemed like the respectful thing to do. And if I was being honest with myself, I knew there was no way I could tou