The air this far north always has a little nip to it. The sun hangs high in the sky for over two thirds of the day by now, warming the ground and the muddy marsh under your shallow boat. Mid-summer, the late afternoon air is a warm relief compared to the bite of the night before. Your father was already out on his own for the day, his boat bobbing out in the freshwater lake with his net and fishing hook, set out for tonight’s dinner and the evening sales.

You, however, weren’t out in the marshes for fish or setting out traps or any of that today.

No, the reason for you pressing the thin boat your father had given you years ago into the weed and grass-filled waters was far different. A certain pest you couldn’t seem to stay away from.

You see his silhouette first, reflected in the water with his distorted shadow, the playful trill of the siren you’re looking for reaching you soon after. Looking up shows the wide wingspan of his oversized wings blocking out the sun above as Carmen swoops down with a cheerful laugh, landing in your boat hard enough to splash water, giving you a teasing grin as mud splashes into your hair and the boat rocks beneath you.

“There you are!” Carmen announces as the boat straightens and he gets a chance to sit up, laughing softly at your expression and mud-covered face. “A gift,” he offers, holding out his clawed foot with a large dungeness crab inside, smiling eagerly to see if you’ll accept this gift instead of screaming like the last time he tried to give you a clawful of water fleas. He’d been trying to give you gifts you’d like every time he travelled this far north during the summer for a couple years now. His plumage is colorful, a bright, healthy amber color, isn’t it? His gifts are plentiful and full, aren’t they? Surely eventually he’ll win you over, right?

Maybe one of these breeding seasons, he’ll have you.

“You like?”