“Can we go home now?” Penelope asked her father. Georg shook his head. “Not ‘till we catch something for your mother.” “But it’s been hours …” she moaned, plopping her head down to rest between her hands, fingers fiddling with the pink ribbons in her hair. “Patience, little lass. Patience. That’s the secret of any good fisherman.” “I’m only seven, Papa. I’m not supposed to be patient.” Georg chuckled, glanced from his line to his daughter. “Is that right? Here, take this.” He handed her the fishing rod, its line stretching deep into the sea, the creatures below hidden beyond the sun’s reach. They could not have known what lurked beneath. Penelope hesitated as she took the rod. “What do I do with it?” “Just hold it there, and then if you feel something try and take it from ya, reel it in with all you’ve got!” he said, spinning his hands. Georg knew this wouldn’t keep Penny occupied for long. But he took what he could, sitting back and savoring the moment, their little dinghy rocking with the waves, the sun warming them from above. He smiled at his daughter, grateful she was old enough to come out with him now. “Can you tell me a joke, Papa?” “You already know all my jokes.” “Then make up a new one,” she smiled wryly. “Oh it’s that easy, is it? How about you give it a go then?” “Hmm,” she thought. Georg watched the gears turn in her head. He couldn’t believe how smart his little lass had become. He could still remember the joy that washed over him hearing her say “Papa” for the first time, so long ago now. “Oh! I got it! What’s a sea monster’s favorite meal?” Georg thought for a moment. “I don’t know.” “Fish and ships!” He laughed. “You felt anything on that line yet?” Penelope shook her head no. Georg looked over the boat, following their line into the sea. Under the water, on the edge of where the sun’s light could reach, he saw a massive shadow slip beneath them. He fell back into their boat, rocking it side to side. That wasn’t a whale … he thought. “Everything okay, Papa?” Georg nodded. “Yes, yes …” forcing a smile, “But I think we ought to be heading home now.” “But we haven’t caught anything for mom?” “We’ll get something for her at the market.” Georg picked up the two paddles fixed to their dinghy. “That’s cheating!” Penelope teased. He began to paddle, glanced again over the edge, but saw only an empty sea. Still, he felt the weight of something beneath them, a beast slithering through currents below ... “Are you alright, Papa?” “Yes, Penny, just pull in that line will you.” Georg could see he was making her nervous. “Everything’s alright — just pull it in.” Penelope reeled in the line. The wind whipped up as she did, gray clouds sliding in from the northwest. The clouds slipped over the sun, graying the skies above them, a thick gloom setting in. The wind seemed to kick up the waves, tossing their dinghy to-and-fro. “Papa?” “Yes, Penny?” Georg asked, paddling them toward the shore. “I’m scared.” She wrapped her arms around herself in something of a hug. He looked to her, composed every ounce of calm he had and said, “We're gonna be alright. Just a little storm is all.” The sun beat down on Georg, his skin worn and leathered from years at sea, years of searching. His lips burned as his breath passed over them, scarred and scabbed, forgetting how to open into anything resembling a smile. A smell filled his nose then, a metallic sting that warned of a storm in the distance, even in this cloudless sky. He kicked at Herm’s legs resting between his own, their boat too small for anything better. Herm groaned, voice muffled by the hat protecting his face from the sun. Georg gave him another kick. He groaned again, pulling the hat from his face. “You’re a pisser, old man,” Herm said, sitting up. “I was dreaming of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.” “I don’t give a damn about your dreams.” “She came from the sea just as me. But her skin was soft, supple — protected from the cruelty of this world. And her tits! My God ... The way they flopped about with the rock of the boat— ” “Enough! Storm’s coming.” Georg tightened the knife strapped to his chest. 21 She nodded. Just then, between them and the shore, Georg saw a gray fin cut up through the shimmering water — massive, as big as a sail. His jaw fell open as the fin sliced through the sea, curving over to their starboard side. Georg’s blood pounded in his neck as he throttled the paddles, pushing them closer to the shore. He cursed himself for having brought Penny with him, seeing just how far they were from land, a hundred yards between them and safety. He looked up to her then, saw her shivering as the first drops of rain pattered down on them. Then he looked back to the fin, drawing nearer to them now, circling. Penny shrieked at the sight of it, which seemed to beckon it, as if fear drew it closer. In an instant they felt its weight knock into their dinghy, a sickening crack splitting across the hull, water gushing in. Penelope leapt over the crack diving into her dad’s arms, wrapping herself around him. “Hold on!” Georg shouted over the crush of waves, paddling on in vain. He saw the fin turn toward them again and let go of the paddles, holding his daughter close. They braced themselves. Georg could just make out the massive shadow of the beast beneath as it pounded against their dinghy, splitting it in two, throwing them into the sea. He held onto Penelope with all his might, but she slipped from his grasp. The rip of the current pulled him under, garbling his shouting of her name as water filled his mouth. He thrashed beneath the churning waves, pushing up to the surface, hearing Penny’s shrieks beside him as he once again found air. Reaching out for her hand, the beast whipped up between them, Georg catching a glimpse of its black eye gazing into him, no more than an empty abyss. “Penny!” he shouted as the monster passed by, Penelope gone from his sight. “Penny!” He cried one last time, before a wave slammed the beams of their boat into his skull, knocking him unconscious. His body at the whims of the waves … Georg came to on the shore, coughing up sea water. He pushed himself to his feet, rushing back out into the water, crying out his daughter’s name, begging for her to return as tears bled down his cheeks. But all the sea returned to him was her pink ribbon, torn from her hair, floating into his trembling hands.
24 Publizr Home