freeline-99 - Flipbook - Page 229
DOM
DICKGARNETT
GAYNER
l o nely partners and empty wa ll et s . B u t we s t i l l d o n’ t h ave o u r
c a rp.
By eleven, the cold really d raws i n . By s l ow t u r n s , eve ry t h i n g
g rows quieter. Even the boy ra ce r s g e t bo re d u n t i l i t ’ s ju s t me ,
N orbert and the mozzies l ef t . I n s e ct re p e ll en t i s a s i mp ort a n t
a s any rod or reel here on c e da rk n es s d e sc e n d s .
“It’ll happen at some p o i n t . I t’ s o n ly a m a tte r o f t i m e,” I
s ay. It’s not the first , or eve n t he s e co n d o r t h i rd ti m e I ’ ve
u s ed that line, along with t h e c l as s i c : “A l l i t t a ke s i s o n e b i te .”
B ut after another blank n i gh t , t h e t al k i s o n t h e Cu r s e o f t h e
Towpath. And sometimes a s I li e t he re s le e p l e s s ly, I wo n d e r
i f it’s true and that we’ll s p e n d ha l f o f e te r n i t y h e re . I t ’ s eve n
h a rder to drop off peacef u l ly af te r N o rb e r t re c a l l s t h e n i gh t
h e saw a d runken transvest i te wa n de r i n g a lo n g t h e tow p a t h .
“Feeling lucky tonight , s i r ? ” h e as ks m e.
“Piss off, Norbert .”
I t’s only after a speculat ive n i gh t o n a n o t h e r p a tc h , m i l e s
away from the last usele s s sw i m, t ha t so m et h i n g d e c i s ive
f i nally occurs. Following a row w i th hi s o t h e r h a l f, N o rb e rt
s n ores as he lies in a heap o n my g ro u n d sh e e t , a n d I ’ m i n t h a t
z o ne where I try to sleep bu t h ave a f u n ny fe e l i n g s o m e th i n g
i s about to happen. But fo r n ow i t d o es n’ t .
Morning emerges by slow d e g re es . It ’s n o t ye t l i gh t , b u t s o o n
i t ’ ll be time to pack up an d be away. S o I ’ m j u s t ly i n g th e re ,
wondering about things: wh et h er to g o fo r a l e a k o r wh e t h e r
t h e carp are somewhere e ls e e nt i re ly. A n d t h a t ’ s whe n i t
h a ppens. With no warning wh at s o eve r, th e a l a r m g o e s b ers e rk ,
a n d I see the line raci ng t i gh t . I’ m st u mb l i n g fo rwa rd w i t h n o
s h oes, no second thoughts , o n ha n d s a n d kn e e s , g ra bb i n g t h e
ro d and holding on. T he b e n d i s de e p a nd u rg e n t a s t h e f i s h
FR E E LINE 10 5
