“Hetookaboutfortypounds,”theoldmansaidaloud.Hetookmyharpoontooandalltherope,hethought,andnowmyfishbleedsagainandtherewillbeothers.
Hedidnotliketolookatthefishanymoresincehehadbeenmutilated.Whenthefishhadbeenhititwasasthoughhehimselfwerehit.
ButIkilledthesharkthathitmyfish,hethought.AhebiggestdentusothatIhaveeverseen.AndGodknowsthatIhaveseenbigones.
Itwastoogoodtolast,hethought.IwishithadbeenadreamnowandthatIhadneverhookedthefishandwasaloneiheneers.
“Butmanisnotmadefordefeat,”hesaid.“Amanbedestroyedbuted.”IamsorrythatIkilledthefishthough,hethought.NowthebadtimeisingandIdonoteveheharpoousoiscruelandableandstrongandintelligent.ButIwasmoreintelligentthanheerhapsnot,hethought.PerhapsIwasoerarmed.
“Don’tthink,oldman,”hesaidaloud.“Sailonthiscourseandtakeitwhenites.”
ButImustthihought.BecauseitisallIhaveleft.Thatandbaseball.IwonderhowthegreatDiMaggiowouldhavelikedthewayIhithiminthebrain?Itwashihought.Anymancoulddoit.Butdoyouthinkmyhandswereasgreatahandicapasthebonespurs?Iotknow.IneverhadanythingwrongwithmyheelexceptthetimethestingraystungitwhenIsteppedonhimwhenswimmingandparalyzedthelandmadetheunbearablepain.
“Thinkaboutsomethingcheerful,oldman,”hesaid.“Everyminutenowyouareclosertohome.Yousaillighterforthelossoffortypounds.”
Heknewquitewellthepatternofwhatcouldhappenwhenhereachedtheinnerpartofthecurrent.Buttherewasnothingtobedonenow.
“Yesthereis,”hesaidaloud.“Ilashmykhebuttofoheoars.”
Sohedidthatwiththetillerunderhisarmandthesheetofthesailunderhisfoot.
“Now,”hesaid.“Iamstillanoldman.ButIamnotunarmed.”
Thebreezewasfreshnowandhesailedonwell.Hewatchedonlytheforartofthefishandsomeofhishopereturned.
Itissillynottohope,hethought.BesidesIbelieveitisasin.Donotthinkaboutsihought.Thereareenoughproblemsnowwithoutsin.AlsoIhavenouandingofit.
IhavenouandingofitandIamnotsurethatIbelieveinit.Perhapsitwasasintokillthefish.IsupposeitwaseventhoughIdidittokeepmealiveandfeedmanypeople.Butthehin
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