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第1章 The Old Mans Hard Life（第2页）

“IfyouweremyboyIdtakeyououtandgamble，”

hesaid.“Butyouareyourfathersandyourmothersandyouareinaluckyboat.”

“MayIgetthesardines?IknowwhereIcangetfourbaitstoo.”

“Ihavemineleftfromtoday.Iputtheminsaltinthebox.”

“Letmegetfourfreshones.”

“One，”

theoldmansaid.Hishopeandhisconfidencehadnevergone.Butnowtheywerefresheningaswhenthebreezerises.

“Two，”

theboysaid.

“Two，”

theoldmanagreed.“Youdidntstealthem?”

“Iwould，”

theboysaid.“ButIboughtthese.”

“Thankyou，”

theoldmansaid.Hewastoosimpletowonderwhenhehadattainedhumility.Butheknewhehadattaineditandheknewitwasnotdisgracefulanditcarriednolossoftruepride.

“Tomorrowisgoingtobeagooddaywiththiscurrent，”

hesaid.

“Whereareyougoing?”

theboyasked.

“Farouttocomeinwhenthewindshifts.Iwanttobeoutbeforeitislight.”

“Illtrytogethimtoworkfarout，”

theboysaid.“Thenifyouhooksomethingtrulybigwecancometoyouraid.”

“Hedoesnotliketoworktoofarout.”

“No，”

theboysaid.“ButIwillseesomethingthathecannotseesuchasabirdworkingandgethimtocomeoutafterdolphin.”

“Arehiseyesthatbad?”

“Heisalmostblind.”

“Itisstrange，”

theoldmansaid.“Heneverwentturtle-ing.Thatiswhatkillstheeyes.”

“Butyouwentturtle-ingforyearsofftheMosquitoCoastandyoureyesaregood.

“Iamastrangeoldman.”

“Butareyoustrongenoughnowforatrulybigfish?”

“Ithinkso.Andtherearemanytricks.”

“Letustakethestuffhome，”

theboysaid.“SoIcangetthecastnetandgoafterthesardines.”

Theypickedupthegearfromtheboat.Theoldmancarriedthemastonhisshoulderandtheboycarriedthewoodenboxwiththecoiled，hard-braidedbrownlines，thegaffandtheharpoonwithitsshaft.Theboxwiththebaitswasunderthesternoftheskiffalongwiththeclubthatwasusedtosubduethebigfishwhentheywerebroughtalongside.Noonewouldstealfromtheoldmanbutitwasbettertotakethesailandtheheavylineshomeasthedewwasbadforthemand，thoughhewasquitesurenolocalpeoplewouldstealfromhim，theoldmanthoughtthatagaffandaharpoonwereneedlesstemptationstoleaveinaboat.

Theywalkeduptheroadtogethertotheoldmansshackandwentinthroughitsopendoor.Theoldmanleanedthemastwithitswrappedsailagainstthewallandtheboyputtheboxandtheothergearbesideit.Themastwasnearlyaslongastheoneroomoftheshack.Theshackwasmadeofthetoughbud-shieldsoftheroyalpalmwhicharecalledguanoandinittherewasabed，atable，onechair，andaplaceonthedirtfloortocookwithcharcoal.Onthebrownwallsoftheflattened，overlappingleavesofthesturdyfiberedguanotherewasapictureincoloroftheSacredHeartofJesusandanotheroftheVirginofCobre.Thesewererelicsofhiswife.Oncetherehadbeenatintedphotographofhiswifeonthewallbuthehadtakenitdownbecauseitmadehimtoolonelytoseeitanditwasontheshelfinthecornerunderhiscleanshirt.

“Whatdoyouhavetoeat?”