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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1228670-Fishermans-Tale
by Layla
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Tragedy · #1228670
This is the narrative of an older fisherman.
"I woke early, cold with aching bones.

"If I had taken time to peer out a port hole as I dressed and passed through the galley to grab a cup of sludge (that shit they call coffee these days), I would have stood face to face with the menacing fog that loomed outside (a seaman’s worst nightmare).
But there was no need to look.
I knew she was there.
She’s always there these days.
It’s as if the fog and the sea are fighting to see who can kill me first.

"As I ascended the stairs to the upper deck and stepped outside, the cold stabbed at my lungs; and I suddenly realized that the damn fog had crept into every crevice and joint this old barge had. Mother Nature wasn’t messing around anymore.

"I headed to the helm to gather our coordinates and plot the day’s course when it hit – that damn cough. It dropped me to one knee, but I wasn’t down long. As I rose, I wiped the few specks of blood off my palm and reached into my pocket for my smokes and a spark.

'Why not just retire old dog? You’ve done your best, given a good show, had a good ride…'

"I’d heard it all before...
From the damn doctors, and the townsfolk who seem to have nothing better to do than fuss over an old man, and all those new age fisherman kids with all their fancy gear and no knowledge or appreciation for the way things used to be. Even my daughter had been begging me to come home and let her take care of me for years now. 

"And all those words and voices went rushing through my head as I stared out into the fog and tasted the little bit of blood that remained in the back of my throat.

"It was true. Thirty-five years hard at sea had taken its toll on my body.
And most men wouldn’t have to think twice about selling their old ship and settling down in a small Carolina home back on the coast. They wouldn’t have to think twice about trading in a life at sea for drinking their morning coffee by a nice hot fire-place while the dog dozed at their feet and they read the paper or watched the ball game.
And they sure as hell wouldn’t have to think twice about swapping nights of sailing through hell and back for afternoons with the grandkids and a comfortable medicated death. Ha! 

"Most men wouldn’t have to think twice about that bull shit, but there was no way in hell I was about to let Mother Nature get the best of me.
“This ship’s still got some wind in her ol’ sails.” There was no doubt in my mind.
“I’ll be damned if the Sea and the Fog get me just yet.”
I threw the ass end of my smoke overboard as I rounded the corner and entered the helm.

"I took one last good look at the fog as she sat there above the water, and maybe it was just the delusions of an old man, but I could have sworn I saw her staring back, sizing me up.
         
"With a bit of a chuckle and a shake of my head, I thought, “Come and get me.”
Then we headed north. Just me and <i>The Lady</i>, the Sea and the Fog nipping at our heels.
A man couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day."


That night the ship went down with her captain.
In a coughing aching fit, choked out by the fog and swallowed up by the sea.
The tough old body of a man finally warm in his bed and the hard metal frame of his ship were laid peacefully to rest at the bottom of the ocean.

Defiant and strong to the end, that noble man was my father.
© Copyright 2007 Layla (onelastime at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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