Post by afisherman on Aug 22, 2020 3:46:27 GMT
“Thought I’d find you out here.”
Jeff had just emerged onto the deck. It was late, and whilst the seas were refreshingly calm for the time of year, the air was still bitingly cold. Andrew didn’t turn around, just muttered a ‘Cap’n’ in response and kept his eyes squarely out towards the darkness of the ocean. Jeff took a long drag of his cigarette and observed Andrew for a moment, neither man moving. How many nights had Andrew been coming up here alone?
Jeff: “You should be getting some sleep while the seas are calm. There’s still a ways to go before the next pots.”
Andrew: “Yeah… I will….”
Yet he made no effort to move. Another moment of silence passed. Jeff had been on the seas long enough to know when he should let things be, but something about his newest crew member made him want to keep pushing.
“The other guys… they say you’ve been having nightmares…”
Even through the thick coat, the figure before him visibly stiffened. Andrew mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“…nothing.”
“Say you’ve been saying a lot of random names in your dreams too. Magnum. Thor. Reaper. Eclipse. Sounds like you’ve been watching too many of them superhero pictures.”
Finally Andrew turned away from the edge of the ship and started walking towards the stairs that led down to the crew’s cabin. Jeff raised his voice slightly to match.
“You know, there’s been talk on the radio of people looking for someone. Someone they’ve tracked down to possibly crabbing out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Hm?”
“For some… wrasslin’ show? Doesn’t mean much to me – a bunch of girly men jumping around – but I’ll tell you, the description they gave… sounds a lot like you.”
Andrew stopped. Jeff took another slow drag of his cancer stick and spoke again, gently.
“Most people who come out on this kind of job – they’re either desperate for money, or they’re trying to get away from something. Now, I don’t pretend to know which one of those two you fall into, but one things fer sure – you can’t fish worth a damn. I’m not sure you’d ever even stepped foot on a boat before you came onto this one. I wasn’t surprised either – the name you gave me was literally A. Fisherman. Who did you think that was fooling?”
Jeff laughed, but there was kindness in it.
“And you know what? That’s fine? You’re strong, you’re a hard worker. And then men all enjoy your company. I have no issue at all with you staying here on this boat. But my question to you… is there somewhere else you’re supposed to be? Is there something more than this, that you should be doing?”
For the first time, Andrew turned and faced Jeff. He was younger than most on the boat, and despite the overly patchy facial hair that had been growing out since his arrival, he clearly had the face that teen girls once would have obsessed over.
“You want to know what the wrestling industry is like? Sure, there’s men jumping around a ring, but there’s also backstabbing and betrayal around every corner. And that’s not even the worst of it. There are people cheating on each other, there’s relationships and friendships being utterly destroyed. Hell, there’s parents who let their own children inject themselves with heroin. Does that sound like something anyone would want to go back to?”
Jeff took another drag, thoughtfully.
“No son, I don’t suppose it does. But were there no good times?”
Andrew looked down at his feet.
“Sure. There were some. And by the end of it, I had some friends… but they’re all gone now. Friends I thought might last forever, just gone. And my greatest friend….”
Jeff waited, allowing Andrew to finish. After a moment, Andrew looked up, tears in his eyes.
“Do you know what the average life span of a chicken is? I didn’t. I do now.”
Another moment of silence passed between them.
“Hmm, I don’t know much about that, but this radio chatter. It was all ‘one night reunion of Global Championship Wrasslin’’ and ‘seeking former wrestler’ and it seemed like it might be someone’s last chance to go back and handle any unfinished business.”
“I don’t have any unfinished business there. I’m done.”
“Oh and something about a child, which I didn’t understand.”
Andrew cocked his head.
“Something about some Mexican child or something. Pedro’s child or something?”
“… what? Impossible.”
“Yeah, long lost child or something. I didn’t really understand it. Didn’t seem relevant to the rest of what was being said.”
“Pedro had a baby and I didn’t know about it? And now it’s with THEM?”
Jeff shrugged. Andrew clenched his fist and looked back out into the ocean.
“One last time?”
Jeff didn’t respond.
“One last time. For Pedro.”
Andrew turned and jogged away. Jeff didn’t react, and before he knew what was happening, he heard a splash and the sound of the outboard motor of the inflatable dinghy spring to life. He quickly ran to the edge of the boat to see Andrew speeding away into the night.
“I’m sorry! I have to do this!”
Ken, another deckhand, suddenly appeared next to Jeff.
Ken: "Where’s Andrew going?”
“Home.”
Ken pointed behind them, in the opposite direction Andrew was heading.
“The coast is that way. He’s heading out further into the open ocean. Also, there’s not enough petrol in that thing to last 20 minutes.”
“I know. We’ll give him 2 minutes and go pick him up.”
Ken looked at Jeff, puzzled.
“Also, his name isn’t Andrew.”
“Well, obviously. What is it?”
“It’s Dwight. Dwight Mare.”
“...geez, no wonder he changed it.”
Jeff had just emerged onto the deck. It was late, and whilst the seas were refreshingly calm for the time of year, the air was still bitingly cold. Andrew didn’t turn around, just muttered a ‘Cap’n’ in response and kept his eyes squarely out towards the darkness of the ocean. Jeff took a long drag of his cigarette and observed Andrew for a moment, neither man moving. How many nights had Andrew been coming up here alone?
Jeff: “You should be getting some sleep while the seas are calm. There’s still a ways to go before the next pots.”
Andrew: “Yeah… I will….”
Yet he made no effort to move. Another moment of silence passed. Jeff had been on the seas long enough to know when he should let things be, but something about his newest crew member made him want to keep pushing.
“The other guys… they say you’ve been having nightmares…”
Even through the thick coat, the figure before him visibly stiffened. Andrew mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“…nothing.”
“Say you’ve been saying a lot of random names in your dreams too. Magnum. Thor. Reaper. Eclipse. Sounds like you’ve been watching too many of them superhero pictures.”
Finally Andrew turned away from the edge of the ship and started walking towards the stairs that led down to the crew’s cabin. Jeff raised his voice slightly to match.
“You know, there’s been talk on the radio of people looking for someone. Someone they’ve tracked down to possibly crabbing out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Hm?”
“For some… wrasslin’ show? Doesn’t mean much to me – a bunch of girly men jumping around – but I’ll tell you, the description they gave… sounds a lot like you.”
Andrew stopped. Jeff took another slow drag of his cancer stick and spoke again, gently.
“Most people who come out on this kind of job – they’re either desperate for money, or they’re trying to get away from something. Now, I don’t pretend to know which one of those two you fall into, but one things fer sure – you can’t fish worth a damn. I’m not sure you’d ever even stepped foot on a boat before you came onto this one. I wasn’t surprised either – the name you gave me was literally A. Fisherman. Who did you think that was fooling?”
Jeff laughed, but there was kindness in it.
“And you know what? That’s fine? You’re strong, you’re a hard worker. And then men all enjoy your company. I have no issue at all with you staying here on this boat. But my question to you… is there somewhere else you’re supposed to be? Is there something more than this, that you should be doing?”
For the first time, Andrew turned and faced Jeff. He was younger than most on the boat, and despite the overly patchy facial hair that had been growing out since his arrival, he clearly had the face that teen girls once would have obsessed over.
“You want to know what the wrestling industry is like? Sure, there’s men jumping around a ring, but there’s also backstabbing and betrayal around every corner. And that’s not even the worst of it. There are people cheating on each other, there’s relationships and friendships being utterly destroyed. Hell, there’s parents who let their own children inject themselves with heroin. Does that sound like something anyone would want to go back to?”
Jeff took another drag, thoughtfully.
“No son, I don’t suppose it does. But were there no good times?”
Andrew looked down at his feet.
“Sure. There were some. And by the end of it, I had some friends… but they’re all gone now. Friends I thought might last forever, just gone. And my greatest friend….”
Jeff waited, allowing Andrew to finish. After a moment, Andrew looked up, tears in his eyes.
“Do you know what the average life span of a chicken is? I didn’t. I do now.”
Another moment of silence passed between them.
“Hmm, I don’t know much about that, but this radio chatter. It was all ‘one night reunion of Global Championship Wrasslin’’ and ‘seeking former wrestler’ and it seemed like it might be someone’s last chance to go back and handle any unfinished business.”
“I don’t have any unfinished business there. I’m done.”
“Oh and something about a child, which I didn’t understand.”
Andrew cocked his head.
“Something about some Mexican child or something. Pedro’s child or something?”
“… what? Impossible.”
“Yeah, long lost child or something. I didn’t really understand it. Didn’t seem relevant to the rest of what was being said.”
“Pedro had a baby and I didn’t know about it? And now it’s with THEM?”
Jeff shrugged. Andrew clenched his fist and looked back out into the ocean.
“One last time?”
Jeff didn’t respond.
“One last time. For Pedro.”
Andrew turned and jogged away. Jeff didn’t react, and before he knew what was happening, he heard a splash and the sound of the outboard motor of the inflatable dinghy spring to life. He quickly ran to the edge of the boat to see Andrew speeding away into the night.
“I’m sorry! I have to do this!”
Ken, another deckhand, suddenly appeared next to Jeff.
Ken: "Where’s Andrew going?”
“Home.”
Ken pointed behind them, in the opposite direction Andrew was heading.
“The coast is that way. He’s heading out further into the open ocean. Also, there’s not enough petrol in that thing to last 20 minutes.”
“I know. We’ll give him 2 minutes and go pick him up.”
Ken looked at Jeff, puzzled.
“Also, his name isn’t Andrew.”
“Well, obviously. What is it?”
“It’s Dwight. Dwight Mare.”
“...geez, no wonder he changed it.”