Chapter 2: The Fishing Port Boy

March 2002. Bosnia and Herzegovina, Neum Port. On the narrow coastal plain, the Dalmatian coast is the main location for port construction in this region. However, Bosnia and Herzegovina only has 24 kilometers of coastline and a harbor called Neum Port. This is the only port for Bosnian fishermen and their fleets to set sail from. At night, stars twinkle in the sky, and a bright moon shines among them. But its faint light cannot dispel the vast darkness of the sea. Standing on the seemingly all-consuming sea horizon is a lighthouse. The weak light emitted from the top of the lighthouse is the only beacon on the dark sea, flickering like a welcoming signal for sailors returning home. Soon, a low, deep horn sound breaks the silence of the sea. Wooooo~~~~~~~~~! — The deep ship horn reverberates ahead and quickly reaches the port. In an instant, the once quiet port becomes lively. One by one, bright floodlights shine down from the dome, waking up the workers and sailors who were sleeping. "They're back! The fleet is back!" "Everyone get up and start working!" "Hurry up, the fleet is back." The workers get up one after another, skillfully putting on waterproof bib overalls and rain boots. They pull a single-wheel cart from the side, gripping the handles tightly, ready to rush out at any moment. These dockworkers have skin tanned dark by the sun, messy hair, and sharp eyes fixed on the returning fleet. But among the crowd is a figure that stands out. A child about 150 cm tall, with pale skin and black hair, wearing oversized waterproof bib overalls. The straps are tied tightly, knotted and hanging on both sides, trying to lift the clothes up, but the crotch still sags badly, making him look like a short-legged little man. Despite this comical sight, the surrounding workers ignore him. The little boy has a round head, chubby cheeks, seeming about twelve or thirteen years old, but his gaze is firm and focused forward, as if he intends to carve a path through the workers. At this moment, fishing boats begin to dock at the port. Following the commands of the managers, workers surge forward like a flood. "I'm coming!" "First come, first served!" "Don't run slow!" Workers quickly push their wheelbarrows, running ahead. Since there is no machinery, manpower is the most reliable way to carry goods at this port. These workers gather every time the fleet returns, because just one load earns them 10 Marks. Doing several trips can equal half a month's wages. Therefore, every fleet's return is a good opportunity for these workers to make quick money. Soon, the fastest workers break through to form the first group, and surprisingly, the boy is among them. His legs are short, but his footwork is quick. He pushes his wheelbarrow nimbly, dodging the bulky workers, keeping pace with the first group. The first group quickly arrives at the boats. The boy finds a boat docked at the edge and shouts loudly, "Ković, hurry! Load the goods for me!" A head pops out from the boat—a young man about 25 years old wearing a sailor's cap. Seeing the boy, he laughs, "Hey! Šuke, long time no see!" "Long time no see, hurry up and load!" Šuke waves dismissively and urges again. Ković shrugs and shouts back, "Captain, get ready to load!" A man with a thick beard smiles and calls out, "Guys, Šuke's here to rush the loading!" Laughter erupts on the boat. Šuke's round face shows a little displeasure, but the crew quickly opens the hatch and sorts the fish. They shovel some of the catch into Šuk's wheelbarrow, which Šuk covers with a wooden board, then dashes toward another boat. Šuke is agile but clearly underdeveloped physically, with weak strength. Pushing the cart is exhausting, and his speed slows considerably. He soon falls behind the other workers. Looking ahead at the distant delivery point under the lights, Šuke mutters angrily, "Stupid port, why put the delivery point so far away!" Though cursing, he still runs hard, but his short legs drag under the load, and by the time he finishes one run, he's at the back of the last group. Crash! Šuke arrives at the delivery point. Ten delivery slots are marked 1 to 10, each with a recorder who notes the worker's name after unloading. Šuke works smoothly, locking his wheelbarrow's wheel on a wooden board, lifting the handle, and tipping the fish into the plastic tank, then turning to run back. "Šuke! One time!" the recorder says softly and makes a note. With everyone's hard work, the fish are unloaded within an hour. After unloading comes the best part—getting paid. Morning sunlight floods the port. Merchants happily gather fish to sell, and some locals come to buy fish for the market. The port grows even livelier. On the other side, workers line up to receive their commissions. A manager calls out the tally. "Sešić, 15 times, 150 Marks!" A smiling Bosnian Muslim man takes his money and leaves happily. His morning's hard work equals half a month's wage. "Sviković, 13 times, 130 Marks!" This is a Croatian man. Bosnia borders Croatia, so many Croatians live and work here. One by one, workers collect their pay in an orderly manner. Soon, small Šuke stands before the manager. The manager glances at Šuke and pulls out a stack of bills, "Šuke, 10 times, 100 Marks!" Šuke's eyes widen, and he shouts, "No, I did 12 runs! You undercounted by two!" The manager frowns, "It's clearly recorded as 10." "He's wrong!" Šuke shouts loudly. "You can't cheat on wages! If you do, who'll want to work here?" The manager looks coldly, and the workers behind him glare at Šuk impatiently. But Šuke doesn't back down. Although small, his voice is loud and clear, quickly attracting a crowd. Seeing more people gathering, the manager feels uneasy and coldly says to Šuke, "It's 10 runs. If you want to keep working here, take your money and get lost!" The threat is clear in his eyes. Šuke looks down at the money, then snatches it back, makes an international "peace" hand gesture, and immediately turns and leaves. A tough guy doesn't suffer a loss right now—Šuke knows if he continues to argue, he won't get paid and might even get beaten. With Šuke's departure, the scene ends, and workers continue lining up for pay. Šuke sits on some steps at the edge of the port, looks down at the money with regret, and says, "I'm short 20 Marks—that's 10 cups of milk!" "Greedy Harun, why is he always targeting me?" Šuke's small head droops sadly, growing more and more upset. "Less money is better than losing the job!" Suddenly, a voice sounds nearby. Šuk looks up to see Ković, the young man from the boat, standing next to him. Ković tosses him a bottle of milk. Seeing it, Šuk's eyes light up. He grabs it, opens it, and drinks it down in one gulp. Watching Šuk finish the milk, Ković looks him over and says, "Why haven't you grown at all? I was already over 170 cm when I was 16." Šuke licks the milk residue from his lips and says seriously, "I'm just a late bloomer." Ković grins, "Who would believe that a 150 cm guy here is a professional player in Bosnia's third-tier league." Šuk waggles his index finger side to side and says seriously, "I'm the top scorer!" Ković raises a thumb, "This season, how many goals have you scored?" "Eight so far!" "The league's about 12 rounds in, right?" Ković is a bit surprised. "Eleven rounds, eight goals!" Ković give a thumbs up, "Impressive." Šuke smiles, "A kid like me is still holding on. Don't you want to come back to play?" Ković laughs, "Play what? I'm 25 and still playing third tier. Aside from the Premier League of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the rest is amateur. I don't want to play and work another job to get by." Šuke: "I still miss your passing—the fancy long passes!" Ković smiles, sitting beside Šuke, "I've given up football. I think I made the right choice. You should be happy for me." Šuk sighs, "Alright, I'll wish you well." After a pause, Šuke smiles at Ković, "As a former teammate, can you do me a favor?" Ković is curious, "What favor?" Šuke's youthful face turns fierce. He says angrily, "Help me testify. I'm going to report Harun for employing child labor!" Ković's mouth opens in surprise, "Are you serious?" Šuk: "That guy has been deducting my commissions. I want him to pay back double."