Page 28 - Contrast1957Springv1n1

footsteps ceased at the clank of an iron door. Slaughter stood alone
in the warm, square patch of sunlight.

••••••

The lake was choppy. The northwest wind from Canada bent
the tops of the pine trees toward the east as if they were bowing to
welcome the rising sun.

A rowboat was bobbing up and down, its anchor straining against
the wind. Two men were in the boat with their fishing lines cast
out and their eyes fixed on the jerky movements of the bobs. One
was singing in loud, lackadaisical tones:

Just give me a boat
A nd a case of beer
And plenty of fish in the sea
And I'll sit all day
In the bright warm sun
Just as happy as I can be.
T he rest of the world
Can then go to Hell
And it surely won't bother me
Cause I'll have my boat
A nd my case of beer
A nd my fish from out of the sea.

He sang the song over and over. The other man began to hum
the tune unconsciously. The darkening clouds all but obliterated the
morning sun and the only movements of the corks were caused by
the lapping waves.

"Some days it just don't pay to get up," the silent man said. He
reeled his line in and checked his bait. The other man continued
to sing.

"Looks like we stop off at the store before we go home and pick
up a few trout," said the silent man. They laughed and the other
man stopped singing. The sky was already solidly overcast.

One of them said, looking at the grey heavens, "What's the old
saying, 'When the sky's clear, the fish are near. When the sky's grey
they're far away.' "

"I'm beginning to believe it,". the other said.
Then there was silence between the two. The splash, splash of
the waves and the whistling wind were the only sounds.
"Read the Gazette this morning?" one shouted over the noise of
the wind .
..No ..•.

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