Home » Archive » The Fisherman » Page 2

The Fisherman

Page 2

He did not say much, just kept moving his feet around on the ground and scratching himself in the crotch. Then he would scratch his neck, and sort of run his tongue in and out of his mouth. He kept doing this for a while, and then went off to get some more beer.

‘Do you think we should slow down a bit on the drinking?’ Ted said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘’Well, don’t you think we are going at it bit fast like?’

‘Please yourself, but I do what I like, that’s for sure. I do what I like.’

He opened a beer and took a long swig. Beer gushed from the can and down his cheeks and onto his clothes. He opened another can and gave it to Ted. Then he opened another for himself, and a bit later, another one. He stood up, rocking gently backwards and forwards on his heels as if he were trying to make up his mind whether he was going to fall flat on his face or not. He went to the end of the verandah and urinated in the corner. He looked up and he could see women pointing at him and laughing from the bar.

‘Tarts!’ he said. ‘Bloody tarts! I’ve seen ‘em all. Tarts, that’s all they are, just tarts. Wouldn’t touch none of ‘em with a barge pole that’s for sure. Have a beer, ‘er, what’s your name agin? Don’t tell me, I know, it’s Ted. Good ole Ted. You know, Ted, you are a real mate, that’s what I reckon, a real mate, a real dinky di mate, that’s what I reckon, a real mate. Blokes have got to have mates, blokes you can trust, blokes you can rely on when things is crook. And I know all about things being crook too, I know all about this stuff because I have had my ups and downs, see. I have been there and done that, as some know-all bloke once said. I know all about this, because I have had my up and downs in this crappy world, and I have been there on my backside in the bush too, that’s for sure.

Page 2

This edition