Bell for Adano, A - John Hersey [95]
The men hauled in their net. They spilled the shining, flopping fish into the bins. They were good fish, mostly of the four- and five-lira grades.
Sconzo said: “It is a rare chance for us fishermen, Merendino. You’d better go.”
Merendino said: “I will think about it.”
They let the net over the side again, and Merendino took the wheel as the boat moved away from the net. As they slowly pulled away, Sconzo lay down at the very bow, with his cheek on the hawser eye, and he watched the forefoot cutting the water and the reflection of the upper parts of the bow moving across the glassy water. It was one of those rare Mediterranean days with not a breath of air on the deep blue water.
Sconzo watched the image of old Lojacono’s painting of the Mister Major riding a porpoise. It skimmed along on the water and sometimes actually seemed to be a man riding a fish along the surface.
Sconzo said: “Do you think the Mister Major is in love with the blonde one? I heard he had his arm around her when the prisoners came back without her Giorgio the other day.”
Merendino said: “It is none of my business.” Agnello said: “I think he is.”
Sconzo said: “We will see tomorrow night at the p Agnello said: “Merendino, don’t you think perhaps we are getting too far inshore?”
Merendino said. I will look al the chart.”
Sconzo said: “He’s just trying to get away from Tomasino’s boat. Old Tomasino splashes his net so much that he scares the fish away. Tomasino has such a bad temper, he’s probably angry with the fish and that’s why he splashes the net. Merendino’s just trying to work the boat away from Tomasino’s, aren’t you, Merendino?”
Merendino said: “I do not think Tomasino is angry at the fish.”
Agnello said: “We’d better not get in too far. We were warned about what would happen if we went out of the zone which they marked for us on the chart. “
Merendino looked at the chart and then at the headlands up and down the coast and he said: “Perhaps we are a little far inshore.” And he put the wheel over and headed out, but diagonally away from Tomasino’s boat.
Sconzo said: “Personally I like the younger daughter of Tomasino better than the blonde. I like honesty in the color of hair.”
Agnello said: “Not that either of Tomasino’s daughters would pay any attention to you, Sconzo.”
Sconzo said: “Oh, I think I could make an impression if I wanted to.”
Agnello mimicked Sconzo: “‘If I wanted to.”‘ And then he said: “What makes you think you could? Your nose is too big.”
Sconzo said: “What makes you think the daughters of Tomasino are so hard to impress? What do you think, Merendino?”
Merendino said: “I think that people with big noses who are fishermen are apt to retain a smell of fish in their nostrils after working hours, and sometimes they attribute the smell of fish to the young ladies they are with. I think it is time to pull the net in.”
The three men stood and began to tug at the net. “We have a good catch this time,” Sconzo said. “Feel that load.”
They pulled some more, then Agnello said: “It feels sluggish. It does not have the lively feeling of a good haul of small fish. Don’t you agree, Merendino?”
Merendino said: “I never divide the fishes into grades until they are in the bins.”
But as the net came in it became more and more obvious that the net had something besides little fish in it. Sconzo said: “Maybe Lojacono’s painting has attracted a porpoise. Maybe Lojacono painted a she-porpoise and maybe it is the mating season among porpoises.
Agnello said: “It doesn’t feel right. It feels like the time we pulled in the hogshead of nafta.”
Merendino made a positive statement: “It feels like something we do not usually catch.”
The boat had come around as the men hauled at the net. They were pulling the dripping net in over the starboard bow by this time.
When the net was almost in, Sconzo said: “Wait a second, let me look and perhaps I can see what we have before we haul it aboard.”
He lay down at the bow again, and put his cheek on the hawser eye again, and looked. What he saw was the last he ever