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第5章 The Old Man and the Big Fish（第3页）

Hethoughtofhowsomemenfearedbeingoutofsightoflandinasmallboatandknewtheywererightinthemonthsofsuddenbadweather.Butnowtheywereinhurricanemonthsand，whentherearenohurricanes，theweatherofhurricanemonthsisthebestofalltheyear.

Ifthereisahurricaneyoualwaysseethesignsofitintheskyfordaysahead，ifyouareatsea.Theydonotseeitashorebecausetheydonotknowwhattolookfor，hethought.Thelandmustmakeadifferencetoo，intheshapeoftheclouds.Butwehavenohurricanecomingnow.

HelookedattheskyandsawthewhitecumulusbuiltlikefriendlypilesoficecreamandhighabovewerethethinfeathersofthecirrusagainstthehighSeptembersky.

“Lightbrisa，”

hesaid.“Betterweatherformethanforyou，fish.”

Hislefthandwasstillcramped，buthewasunknottingitslowly.

Ihateacramp，hethought.Itisatreacheryofonesownbody.Itishumiliatingbeforeotherstohaveadiarrhoeafromptomainepoisoningortovomitfromit.Butacramp，hethoughtofitasacalambre，humiliatesoneselfespeciallywhenoneisalone.

Iftheboywereherehecouldrubitformeandloosenitdownfromtheforearm，hethought.Butitwillloosenup.

Then，withhisrighthandhefeltthedifferenceinthepullofthelinebeforehesawtheslantchangeinthewater.Then，asheleanedagainstthelineandslappedhislefthandhardandfastagainsthisthighhesawthelineslantingslowlyupward.

“Hescomingup，”

hesaid.“Comeonhand.Pleasecomeon.”

Thelineroseslowlyandsteadilyandthenthesurfaceoftheoceanbulgedaheadoftheboatandthefishcameout.Hecameoutunendinglyandwaterpouredfromhissides.Hewasbrightinthesunandhisheadandbackweredarkpurpleandinthesunthestripesonhissidesshowedwideandalightlavender.Hisswordwasaslongasabaseballbatandtaperedlikearapierandherosehisfulllengthfromthewaterandthenre-enteredit，smoothly，likeadiverandtheoldmansawthegreatscythe-bladeofhistailgounderandthelinecommencedtoraceout.

“Heistwofeetlongerthantheskiff，”

theoldmansaid.Thelinewasgoingoutfastbutsteadilyandthefishwasnotpanicked.Theoldmanwastryingwithbothhandstokeepthelinejustinsideofbreakingstrength.Heknewthatifhecouldnotslowthefishwithasteadypressurethefishcouldtakeoutallthelineandbreakit.

HeisagreatfishandImustconvincehim，hethought.Imustneverlethimlearnhisstrengthnorwhathecoulddoifhemadehisrun.IfIwerehimIwouldputineverythingnowandgountilsomethingbroke.But，thankGod，theyarenotasintelligentaswewhokillthem;althoughtheyaremorenobleandmoreable.

Theoldmanhadseenmanygreatfish.Hehadseenmanythatweighedmorethanathousandpoundsandhehadcaughttwoofthatsizeinhislife，butneveralone.Nowalone，andoutofsightofland，hewasfasttothebiggestfishthathehadeverseenandbiggerthanhehadeverheardof，andhislefthandwasstillastightasthegrippedclawsofaneagle.

Itwilluncrampthough，hethought.Surelyitwilluncramptohelpmyrighthand.Therearethreethingsthatarebrothers:thefishandmytwohands.Itmustuncramp.Itisunworthyofittobecramped.Thefishhadslowedagainandwasgoingathisusualpace.

Iwonderwhyhejumped，theoldmanthought.Hejumpedalmostasthoughtoshowmehowbighewas.Iknownow，anyway，hethought.IwishIcouldshowhimwhatsortofmanIam.Butthenhewouldseethecrampedhand.LethimthinkIammoremanthanIamandIwillbeso.IwishIwasthefish，hethought，witheverythinghehasagainstonlymywillandmyintelligence.

Hesettledcomfortablyagainstthewoodandtookhissufferingasitcameandthefishswamsteadilyandtheboatmovedslowlythroughthedarkwater.Therewasasmallsearisingwiththewindcomingupfromtheeastandatnoontheoldmanslefthandwasuncramped.

“Badnewsforyoufish，”

hesaidandshiftedthelineoverthesacksthatcoveredhisshoulders.

Hewascomfortablebutsuffering，althoughhedidnotadmitthesufferingatall.

“Iamnotreligious，”

hesaid.“ButIwillsaytenOurFathersandtenHailMarysthatIshouldcatchthisfish，andIpromisetomakeapilgrimagetotheVirgindeCobreifIcatchhim.Thatisapromise.”

Hecommencedtosayhisprayersmechanically.Sometimeshewouldbesotiredthathecouldnotremembertheprayerandthenhewouldsaythemfastsothattheywouldcomeautomatically.HailMarysareeasiertosaythanOurFathers，hethought.

“HailMaryfullofGracetheLordiswiththee.Blessedartthouamongwomenandblessedisthefruitofthywomb，Jesus.HolyMary.MotherofGod，prayforussinnersnowandatthehourofourdeath.Amen.”

Thenheadded，“BlessedVirgin，prayforthedeathofthisfish.Wonderfulthoughheis.”

Withhisprayerssaid，andfeelingmuchbetter，butsufferingexactlyasmuch，andperhapsalittlemore，heleanedagainstthewoodofthebowandbegan，mechanically，toworkthefingersofhislefthand.

Thesunwashotnowalthoughthebreezewasrisinggently.

“Ihadbetterre-baitthatlittlelineoutoverthestern，”

hesaid.“IfthefishdecidestostayanothernightIwillneedtoeatagainandthewaterislowinthebottle.IdontthinkIcangetanythingbutadolphinhere.ButifIeathimfreshenoughhewontbebad.Iwishaflyingfishwouldcomeonboardtonight.ButIhavenolighttoattractthem.AflyingfishisexcellenttoeatrawandIwouldnothavetocuthimup.Imustsaveallmystrengthnow.Christ，Ididnotknowhewassobig.”

“Illkillhimthough，”

hesaid.“Inallhisgreatnessandhisglory.”

Althoughitisunjust，hethought.ButIwillshowhimwhatamancandoandwhatamanendures.

“ItoldtheboyIwasastrangeoldman，”

hesaid.“NowiswhenImustproveit.”

Thethousandtimesthathehadproveditmeantnothing.Nowhewasprovingitagain.Eachtimewasanewtimeandheneverthoughtaboutthepastwhenhewasdoingit.

IwishhedsleepandIcouldsleepanddreamaboutthelions，hethought.Whyarethelionsthemainthingthatisleft?Dontthink，oldman，hesaidtohimself.Restgentlynowagainstthewoodandthinkofnothing.Heisworking.Workaslittleasyoucan.