A Fishy Tale

A Fishy Tale

It was about 3 p.m. Saturday afternoon on Memorial Day weekend when my neighbor Robert knocked at my front door. As usual he had some fresh fish for me. He loves to catch 'em and I love to eat 'em. I asked, "Would you mind if I tagged along on one of your fishing trips?"

"Well sure, anytime, could use the company." Robert said.

"I haven't been fishing since I was kid. My dad and I loved trout fishing. I've never learned how to catch anything else except catfish." I said and started thinking about my dad. I missed him.

"Well Lisa, your welcome anytime. As a matter of fact I'm going out tomorrow."

I realized I didn't even have a fishing pole anymore and felt a little uncomfortable about borrowing stuff but Robert was good neighbor and friend so I said, "I don't have a pole anymore and my tackle box is full of tiny little trout hooks."

"Oh don't worry about that. I have four sons and they hardly ever go fishing anymore. You can use one of their poles. I've got waders that will fit you too." Robert chuckled. "You ever wear waders before?"

"No never have. Sounds like fun. You want some lemonade or something?" I asked.

Robert shook his head and took a step back from the door, "no, I should get home and shower, I'm covered in salt spray. You come by about 7 tomorrow, bring some frozen drinks and sandwiches and I'll bring the rest."

"Sounds great, see ya then!"

I fried up the fresh fillets with a little breadcrumbs and cayenne pepper and made a spring green salad from the garden. Delicious!

After dinner I frozen several bottles of lemonade and water and made some turkey sandwiches with the leftover spring greens.

The next morning we hopped into Robert's pick-up and drove down Ocean Parkway toward Jones Beach. We talked about fishing spots and the big ones we caught.

He turned off near Tobay Beach and parked at a friend’s beach house. "This is my friend Phil's place. He lets me fish here anytime."

Phil's house was at then end of the block and the empty stretch of beach extended west several miles. We had the beach to ourselves!

We carried the cooler and our gear down to the water and Robert tossed me a pair of waders. After we suited up and put sun block on our noses, Robert gave me a pole and showed me what to do.

Once I was accustomed to the pole and casting out while standing up to my butt in the water, Robert wadded off to my right several yards so our lines wouldn't get tangled.

Once we were in the water we didn't talk much. "Don't want to scare the fish away," my dad would say.

After several hours my feet and knees where aching from the cold water, while my nose and arms began to burn from the sun. We finally got some nibbles and stolen bait but no catch. I was starting to get hungry and my mouth started to water thinking about fish dinner. I should have had breakfast I thought.

Just then I realized we were no longer the only ones on the beach. Off to my left someone else was waist deep in the water. I wondered if Robert had noticed this new guy. At first I thought this guy had a white long sleeve shirt on but at second glance I decided he was shirtless. Wow that guy is pale; I hope he has sun block on. I also noticed he didn't have a fishing pole and wasn't wearing waders! He had a weird haircut, shaved on both sides like a mohawk. His eyes where kinda bulgy like a goldfish and his mouth was so large it looked as though it wrapped halfway around his head.

This guy was creeping me out. I really shouldn’t feel that way; he can’t help how he looks.

When he was about ten feet away he spoke, “catch anything?”

Oh my! Don’t stare. This guy is drooling and his mouth is filled with tiny little pointed teeth like a barracuda. “No, nothing yet. I should put some more sun block on I think my nose is burning.” I could hear him breathing and slurping his drool.

I reeled in my line and headed toward Robert. I spoke a little to loudly, “Hey Robert, you hungry? I’m gonna have a sandwich. Come sit with me, have some lemonade.”

“Yup, it’s about lunch time,” Robert said and began reeling his line in too.

I couldn’t get myself to turn around and look to see if the strange guy was still behind me. Then I heard a splash like a fish jumping out of the water and turned to look. The stranger was gone. I don’t think Robert even noticed the guy.

As we ate our lunch I asked Robert, “did you see that strange man?”

“What man? I haven’t see anyone all morning.”

“There was a man here with bulging eyes, pale skin, a mohawk, and a rather large mouth. You didn’t see him?”

Robert starred at me for a moment with his mouth slightly open. Then he said, “You don’t suppose… naw couldn’t be.” He shook his head. “I’ve heard stories…”

“What stories? What are you talking about Robert?”

“Well, I heard an old fisherman say that hundreds of years ago the natives of Long Island spoke of a tribe that lived in this bay, Great South Bay. They were half fish and half man. He described them exactly as you just described that guy.”

“Oh come on, you don’t expect me to believe that there are mermen living in Great South Bay? Do you?” I raised my eyebrows and look sideways at him.

“Hey, why not? Fisherman and sailors have told many tales about mermaids.” Robert had finished his sandwich and was drinking lemonade.

“Oh that’s just stories, they didn’t have television to entertain themselves so they made up stories.” I said.

“Too bad we didn’t catch anything. You know, I’ll bet that merman you saw scared off all the fish.”

“Well Robert, I bet your right about that, he sure did give me the creeps.”

We both laughed. Robert and I started to gather up our stuff and soon we were heading home.

That night I lay in bed listening to the waves as I always did but the sound didn’t have that relaxing sensation it always had for me. I couldn’t shake of the sound of that slurping voice, the merman’s voice… “Catch anything?”