The Smelly Squid Vendor

To give my wife, Mandy, the chance to chase her Ivy League dreams, I threw away hundreds of trophies. I gave up the violin I'd played for twenty years and took a job on a commercial fishing trawler to pay for her tuition.

At three in the morning, I was hunched over the side of the boat, vomiting until my throat burned with bile.

Meanwhile, she was using my credit card to check into a five-star hotel with her protg, Lance, sharing a premium steak and a bottle of expensive wine.

I wore a tattered jumpsuit soaked in engine oil and dried sweat. I could only shower once every ten days, and my body was covered in painful eczema.

She was getting spa treatments, holding Lance's arm, and paying for his custom-made performance suits with my hard-earned money.

Because I spent so much time deep-sea diving for the catch, my fingers were permanently bent and deformed. The pressure had ruined my ears, and the chronic pain made sleep impossible.

Then, a video of her in a silk slip, playing a lullaby pressed up against Lance, went viral. Everyone called them the "Golden Couple of the Music World."

During our once-a-month video call, Mandy excitedly told me the news.

"Silas, Lance and I are flying back to the States next week to accept an award. I've been gone for three years, so I'll probably be out of my element. Book us a five-star hotel and arrange a private car."

That was fine. I had actually organized this ceremony myself to show her how far I'd come. I wanted to give her the best.

Then, my wife added a casual condition.

"You don't need to show up, though. Every day you're off the boat is a day of lost income for us."

Lance, who was busy using the credit card I gave Mandy to buy himself a designer watch, chimed in to lecture me.

"Silas, your mentor raised you like his own. You should be grateful. Being a fisherman is your family legacy, after all. You've got that fishy stench in your bones. You'd only embarrass Mandy at a high-class event like this. Don't be a drag."

"If my money smells so bad, why don't you stop spending it? I'm going to that ceremony whether you like it or not."

01

At the music awards gala, I ditched my expensive suit. I put on a pair of greasy coveralls and a rubber apron. I stood behind a small street-food cart, planning to give my wife a surprise after three years apart.

A small wave of screams erupted in the hall.

I pushed my cart toward the dazzling crystal chandeliers and the champagne tower while the piano music played.

I realized the cheers weren't for a guy selling grilled squid. They were for the refined gentleman walking right behind me.

It was the rising star of the music world, the winner of the Best Duo PerformanceDthe violinist, Lance.

His fans were everywhere. They'd cleared the area for his security, but I was in the way. Annoyed whispers started to ripple through the crowd.

"Look at that gross street vendor. He's ruining Lance's big entrance with that junk cart."

"Who let a roadside stand into a high-end gala? This is so trashy."

Lance adjusted his Patek Philippe watch and adjusted the diamond brooch on his custom suit. He walked up to my cart with a smug smile.

"Sir, could you move this somewhere else? The smell of squid is way too strong. You're bothering my fans."

I rolled my eyes internally.

When you were swiping my card in London, you didn't seem to have a problem knowing who I was.

Lance was a much better actor than he was a violinist.

"I have a ticket to be here. I haven't even started selling yet. Why should I leave?"

"How much for the whole cart? I'll buy it all just to get you out of here."

Buying my own squid with my own money? The irony was thick.

"You can't afford it."

His fans grew furious.

"What a joke! Lance comes from an old-money family. You think he can't afford some cheap street food?"

"Lance is too kind! A person like this doesn't even deserve his attention!"

Lance's eyes scanned a few wealthy socialites in the front row, giving them a lingering, suggestive look.

"He's just a hard-working man trying to make a living. You ladies are so kind-hearted, let's just tolerate it for my sake, okay?"

A chorus of giggles and praise followed.

"Lance has such a great temperament."

"He's an angel. If it were me, I would've called security ages ago."

Lance soaked in the praise, running a hand through his hair like a cat in heat.

Suddenly, something metallic hit the floor near my feet. I leaned over to pick it up.

Before I could even look at it, Lance's face turned bright red. He pointed at me with fake righteous indignation and shouted.

"I tried to give you a way to earn an honest living, and you choose to steal? I've never seen anyone so shameless!"

In my hand was the designer watch he had just been showing off. He must have flicked it toward me while he was posing.

Lance rushed over and snatched the watch back. Looking at the cracked face, he looked like he was about to cry.

"This watch was a gift from my father for my twenty-first birthday. If you were mad at me, you could have just said so. Why would you destroy the thing that means the most to me?"

Insults flew at me from every direction. The crowd was reaching a boiling point.

"You piece of trash! You broke his heart! Call the cops! Put him behind bars where he belongs!"

"He's just another low-life who's desperate for money. If Lance hadn't stopped us, we'd tear him apart."

Lance leaned in close. He whispered in a voice only I could hear.

"You're just like your criminal father. A gutter rat who spends his life stealing because he'll never be a real man. Stay in your pile of rotting fish, Silas. That's where you belong."

I looked him dead in the eye and fired back.

"You bought that watch with my credit card in New York last week. I don't remember being your father, son."

Lance's jaw twitched. He quickly masked it with a look of pained sorrow, leaning back into his "kind soul" persona.

"Sir, mistakes must be punished. But if you get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness, I won't call the police. I'll give you a chance to turn your life around."

Predictably, the crowd erupted in cheers for his "mercy."

Then, a wave of pressure hit me.

"Kneel!"

"Get on your knees!"

"Down on the ground, thief!"

The crowd swarmed me like hungry wolves. Someone spat on me. Someone else ripped my coveralls.

The flashbulbs of dozens of phones blinded me.

"Capture his face! Post it everywhere! Make sure the whole world knows this thief!"

"Dox him! Make sure he can never show his face in public again!"

The screams of "Thief!" and "Scum!" were deafening.

I was shoved to the ground, forced into a kneeling position by the weight of the angry mob.

Suddenly, the room went quiet.

Someone shouted, "Mandy is here!"

I looked up. Surely, my wife would set this straight. She knew I paid for everything for the last three years. She knew I wasn't a thief.

02

Mandy walked in wearing a gown that cost more than a mid-sized sedan, draped in diamonds. She walked right past me, kneeling on the floor, and rushed to Lances side.

Lance, you look so pale. Are you okay?

Lance just shook his head silently, looking at me with a fake expression of disappointment and hurt.

Finally, Mandy deigned to look at me.

Three years had made her even more beautiful.

She was the woman who had seen me cry after I sold my violin.

She was the one who knew I lived on scraps and never took a day off just so I could send her every cent.

She knew my hands were ruined and my hearing was failing. She knew exactly who I had done it for.

For three years, I had murdered my own dreams as a musical prodigy to be her sacrifice.

I expected her to be happy to see me. I thought she would pull me up and tell me Id worked hard enough.

None of that happened.

Mandy stopped about ten feet away from me. she covered her nose with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.

I struggled against the people holding me down, but the fans were relentless.

Mandy stepped a bit closer, still covering her face, and hissed under her breath.

Silas, stop making a scene. Go back to the docks. This isn't a place for someone like you.

Someone like me? Mandy, when you and Lance were bleeding my bank account dry in the States, you didn't seem to mind the smell of my money.

Realizing shed slipped up, Mandys expression shifted instantly to one of a tragic victim. Her eyes welled with tears.

She looked exactly the same as the day she begged me to record her audition demo for her.

For a split second, I almost faltered. I almost considered staying on my knees to keep her happy.

But Lance didn't stop. He stepped forward and kicked me squarely in the chest, knocking me over.

Youre a bottom-feeder dreaming of a goddess! Mandy and I are childhood sweethearts. Were soulmates. How could she ever be married to a loser like you?

As I tried to push myself up, my hand brushed Lances leg. He immediately threw himself backward into the squid cart, knocking it over and screaming in feigned agony.

Mandy rushed to him. Lance whispered something in her ear.

Mandy, don't admit you know him. If people find out your husband is a smelly fishmonger, our image as the perfect couple is ruined.

Mandy turned back to me, her brow furrowed in anger.

You know how hard I worked to get here. Dont ruin this for me! If Lance cant play the violin because of his hand, youll pay for it with your life!

Lance lay on the floor, squeezing out tears, wailing about his hand.

My hand! My career! Twenty years of practice, gone!

Mandy pulled him into her arms.

The crowd went feral.

If his career is over, your life isn't enough to pay for it!

Beat the hell out of him!

Trash like this shouldn't be allowed to breathe!

Fists started falling. On my face, my shoulders, my stomach. I lost track of who was hitting me or how many times.

Someone kicked my spine. Someone stepped on my deformed fingers. They pulled my hair and slapped my face.

The security guards looked like they wanted to step in, but I gave them a sharp look to stay back.

I didn't fight back. I wanted to see exactly how long Mandy would stand there and watch me die.

I was covered in grime, squid sauce, spit, and my own blood.

Someone grabbed my hair, pulled my head up, and took a selfie with me to post with the caption, Justice served.

Lance tugged at Mandys arm.

Mandy, lets go. Garbage belongs in the bin. Its too dirty here. Dont let his bad luck rub off on you.

Mandy nodded sadly and turned to leave without a second glance.

She was worried about a blister on Lances hand while I was being beaten to a pulp, and she didn't care.

As my vision began to blur, I spoke one sentence that stopped them in their tracks.

03

We are legally married. If I show everyone our marriage certificate, your little performance is going to look real ugly.

Mandy looked around at the sea of reporters and cameras. She knew she was trapped.

She gritted her teeth, looking like shed just swallowed a literal piece of trash, and finally spoke.

He... he is my husband. The three of us grew up together as students under the same mentor.

The people hitting me stopped. The room filled with whispers.

Mandys legs seemed heavy as she walked toward me, her face full of resentment.

Why are you doing this? Im so disappointed in you.

I thought about the thousands of nights Id spent on the freezing ocean. The millions of dollars Id wired her.

My crooked fingers. My ruined ears. The sores on my skin that never healed.

She used the money I bought with my own life to fund her fairytale with another man, and she was disappointed in me?

Mandy turned to the cameras and began to sob.

Years ago, my father felt sorry for him because his dad was a criminal and everyone bullied him. My father took him in and raised him. But he wasn't grateful. He used disgusting methods to force me to marry him.

She took a shaky breath, playing the role of the century.

After we married, he beat me whenever he was unhappy. He refuses to give me a divorce. Even when I fled to America, he wouldn't stop harassing and extorting me. If you call that a marriage, then yes, hes my husband.

The room was filled with gasps of sympathy.

Mandy is such a survivor. She and Lance are like a tragic Romeo and Juliet.

Oh my god, Lance stayed by her side even knowing all this? Thats true love!

Like father, like son. A criminal breeds a criminal. We should have beaten him harder.

Mandy looked at me, her eyes pleading for me to just take the blame.

To everyone else, she looked heartbroken. But I knew that look. She wanted me to be her scapegoat one last time.

She always used that look when she wanted something from me. I had been blind to the ice behind those eyes for too long.

Youre a nobody, Silas. I lowered myself to marry you. We agreed to keep it a secret, but you had to show up today. I can't have a street vendor for a husband. Admit Im telling the truth, and maybe we can go back to how things were. If not, don't blame me for being heartless.

In her mind, I was just mud on her shoe. She wanted to squeeze every last drop of blood out of me before throwing me away.

Finally, the illusion shattered.

Go back to how things were? You mean being your husband in name only while I kill myself to fund your life with Lance?

Do you really think Im that stupid? I let it slide because I loved you. But now... I gave you everything, and you threw it in my face. Now, Im taking it all back.

I pulled a radio from my pocket and spoke clearly.

All units, cancel the awards ceremony. Execute Plan B.

I wasn't blind during those three years. I knew something was wrong.

While I was suffering, I discovered I had a talent for business that far exceeded my talent for the violin.

I had turned that one shitty boat into a fleet of eight massive industrial fishing vessels.

I had founded a multi-billion dollar seafood corporation.

If Mandy had loved me, she would have been the queen of an empire. But she didn't.

I wiped the blood and grime from my face, stood up, and shed the apron. My security team, men who had bled with me on the high seas, marched in and lined up behind me.

They bowed in unison.

Boss, were ready.

Mandy looked at me like she was seeing a ghost. I stepped toward her.

Did you never stop to wonder how a simple fisherman could afford your private jets and designer bags? Or did you just think you were entitled to everything I had?

Lance panicked. He dropped his act and started screaming.

Hes lying! He hired actors! Have you even seen a real billionaire, Silas? My father is a real mogul. A refined man. Not a criminals son like you!

People have called my father a criminal for ten years. Its time to clear his name. And while Im at it, lets show everyone who you really are.

04

The lights dimmed, the music cut out, and a massive screen lowered behind the stage.

The first document on the screen was a birth registry and a tax filing.

Lance Miller. Father: George Miller. Occupation: Janitor. Mother: Sarah Miller. Occupation: Maid.

The second slide showed bank transfers.

Ten years ago: $500. Note: Your mom is sick and the harvest was bad. Use this for school, son.

Five years ago: $800. Note: We sold the old truck. Buy yourself a suit for your recital.

Three years ago: $300. Note: We had to borrow this. Were sorry we couldn't do more. We love you.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Lance stood there, his face as white as a sheet.

Its fake! He photoshopped it! Its all a lie!

The screen changed again.

It was a photo of an elderly couple standing in front of a shack that looked like it was about to collapse. The man was skeletal, his face a map of deep wrinkles. The woman was hunched over, leaning on a literal stick. The caption read: Lances Parents.

A gasp went through the crowd.

No way... Lance said his dad was a real estate tycoon.

He told us his parents lived in Switzerland...

Lance was shaking. He couldn't even speak.

You haven't called them in years, have you, Lance? Dont you miss them?

I pulled out my phone and put it on speaker. The call connected.

Hello? Is this Sarah Miller, Lances mother?

A frail, shaky voice answered.

Yes... who is this?

Im a friend of Lances. Hes right here with me. Would you like to say hello?

The womans voice immediately became frantic with joy.

Oh! Oh my god! George, come quick! Its Lance! He didn't forget us! Son? Is that you? Talk to me!

Lance didn't wait for them to finish. He lost his mind and started screaming at the phone.

You stupid hags! I told you to stay hidden! Now everyone knows my parents are nobodies! You couldn't give me anything, and now youre ruining what I built for myself! Why aren't you dead yet? Just die!

The old couple went silent. Then, the sound of sobbing came through the speaker.

Its our fault... were just poor folks... we didn't mean to hurt you, son. We won't call again. Well just... well stay away. Just be happy, okay?

The line went dead. The silence that followed was heavy with disgust.

Thats the most heartless thing Ive ever heard.

Hes an animal. How can he treat his parents like that?

If hes just a poor kid, where did he get the money for the Patek and the Ferraris?