"The Eel Bone" by Matt Comeskey
From Ribbons of Fate
On the homeward leg of our road trip to the Izu Peninsula, my friend Hiro and I stopped for lunch in Fuji City at a kaiten-zushi (conveyor-belt sushi) bar called Jumbo Zushi. Hiro was anxious for me to try the crab soup and a variety of raw treats. Sushi would not have been my first choice after having already consumed plates of deep-sea delicacies the previous night in Heda Village. In fact, I had been wondering all morning if it was the meal of spider crab and sea urchin that had played a part in my sleepless night. Nevertheless, I was soon seated before a rapidly-moving stainless steel sushi carousel. Hiro grabbed at coloured plates, thrusting them in front of me one after the other.
“This is tobiko, flying fish. Please try!” he said, excitedly. “And this I think you know, ika, squid.” I already had a mountain of plates to get through and had yet even to pour some soy sauce into my dish.
“Actually, do you know unagi?”
“Eel?”
“Yes, ah, you know well. This is good.”
He pulled a small plate of grilled freshwater eel off the line then neatly snapped apart a set of cedar chopsticks for me. “Come on, Hiro! Eel is too easy,” I joked, “you’re going to have to try harder than eel to give me something that’s a challenge.” I popped the whole piece in my mouth. There was a moment of great taste before I felt a small bone lodge itself firmly behind my jaw. It was tiny and sharp, and it had pierced the back of my throat. Each swallow began to feel more painful.
Hiro began to gorge himself on plates of red seabream, Spanish mackerel and swordfish. I excused myself and found my way to the bathroom. Once behind a locked door, I carefully pushed my index finger back into my throat to try to get at the eel bone, but it was stuck fast. With the second attempt to dislodge it, I ended up with my head deep in the toilet bowl. Realising I wasn’t going to get it out anytime soon, I rejoined Hiro with some reluctance.
“Hiro, I have an eel bone stuck in my throat.” I told him as casually as I could muster, so as not to create alarm.
To finish this story, click here.