Ch 17 - The End Of A Dream

The fishing was producing little that night. Back

in the old days, this would not have been a problem, for

fishing was but a simple entertainment, not a livelihood

for the whole family. Life in the region had always been

very basic, without luxury or hope. It was known that a

large part of the resources that the government made

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available was diverted by lesser authorities, long before

they reached the people, but nobody complained. There

would be no point in doing so. And so life went on,

accepting the difficulties and fighting, as so many

generations had done successfully before. With the

arrival of some companies to the territory, however, a

spark of hope shone in the place. With projects scattered

here and there, it seemed that they were going to save the

country's economy and perhaps even lift it up. And for a

while, Thabo Amaechi's life was like that. To the four

children he already had, one more was about to be

added, as money was no longer so scarce. The project to

which he had been assigned was on a plain, far south of

the lagoon where he was now fishing. On a beach-bound

plain, even the foundation of such a grandiose work

seemed absurd, but it was not something he would

comment on with many people; after all, if they found

out that he doubted the success of the project, they could

fire him and the financial abundance would soon be

gone. Not that the foreman was someone harsh or

demanding, quite the contrary. Elya always showed

understanding towards his subordinates and it was his

custom to lend money to those who needed to send more

to their families. But what was the use of being so

well-mannered? The project eventually collapsed, even

with the silence he maintained. Months of building

walls, partitions between the rooms and so many other

treats in each of the luxury houses, things that his family

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would never have, even now that he had more

possessions, and all for what? The work stopped

suddenly, without warning or signs. Not that a warning

would have helped much; the supply of jobs in the area

was not enough to simply find a job, even if they had

given him a one month's notice. The whole thing seemed

to be related to the animals that Badru had found near

the verandas of two houses. We ate some of the creatures

as biltong, but the taste of the meat could not be

compared to any other, being something between turtle

and fish. Soon, though, bitterness came along with the

new meat. We saw Baruti on the phone, reporting the

discovery of the creatures to someone who seemed

important, because he called them "sir" and repeated —

Yes, yes, sir, immediately, sir. — The last thing he said

before hanging up was — Is this really necessary, sir? I

understand... I'll let them know.

Soon after, he came to us and asked us to go to

the party room, where we had so often had our meals.

Without questioning anything, we gathered around the

large wooden table and sat in silence, all looking at him.

For a few minutes, he stood with a downcast face, trying

to find the right words to tell us the news. Finally, he

raised his tearful eyes and announced to us that the

company had decided to stop the project until we knew

how to deal with a certain problem and that until further

notice we were fired. Fired? What do you mean "fired"?

Is this how they would treat us? Do they think they can

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treat us as disposable, just because they bought the land

that our ancestors conquered? We thought all this, and I

know we all did because I met the men who had worked

with me on the project and they all had this same grudge

against the company. Damn Badru! Why did he need to

open that big catfish mouth and tell them what he had

found? And Elya! Why did he have to tell his bosses?

We were all furious, but we didn't say anything to Elya,

out of respect. One by one, we walked away with our

heads down and left the hall, leaving only him to guard

the place. We returned to our families and told them the

unfortunate news, weeping as we hugged them. Now,

living would be difficult again, and the baby that would

come into the world no longer seemed so safe.

At least the large pond in Port St. Johns provided

inspiration on what to do in difficult times. The inner

lake teemed with all sorts of edible fish, especially the

kind that interested him most — tilapia and catfish.

Nonetheless, the evening's fishing went badly. Perhaps it

was due to the excessive amount of men that all turned

to the pond in search of sustenance; but Thabo Amaechi

was smarter than the others, he also fished at night, to

avoid competition. Now, though, cleverness had betrayed

him. It would have been more worthwhile to have stayed

with his family than to expose himself to the night cold

and return empty-handed. The longline ran in his hands;

hundreds of hooks covering the fisherman's formidable

weapon. Of course, such a form of fishing was forbidden

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by the government because it took too many fish at once,

but who cared about the law? They were not helping to

support his family, anyway. Lowering the spiraling trap

down the water column, he grudgingly mulled over the

past events leading up to the lamentable tragedy. For

hours now he had been repeating the same tedious

process of lowering, waiting, and pulling, but the

cruelest part had to be the one where he simply waited,

because his dreams of wealth came to mind again, only

to fade in frustration, causing tears to appear, salting the

lake below.

Then he opened his eyes.

The longline was shaking and swaying as if

stirred by a person swimming below the surface. But it

was not possible that someone would dive at night just to

play a trick on him. Or was it? No species in the lake

would force the line in such a way, much less then, shake

it violently as it was doing. Grasping the longline, he

began to pull hard. Tilapia were nowhere near as

quarrelsome, and catfish would spin like crocodiles,

certainly would not wiggle the line attached to the hook.

What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it was

approaching the surface, not realizing that it would be

caught. Forget dinner, this thing can be sold for a good

price at the local market! Thabo's arms were burning

with the monstrous weight of the animal he had hooked.

His eyes lit up, already imagining the amount of money

he would get for his evening's catch. Leaning his feet

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against the wood of the boat, he anchored himself and

pulled with one hand, while with the other one he rowed

towards the shore, where the gigantic fish would be

easier to handle. The bubbles were already visible on the

surface; the animal was getting tired. — Great! — he

thought, laughing out loud, as he got closer to the shore.

50 meters, maybe less, and he would have the huge

animal to himself. Maintaining the strength of the pull,

he kept dragging the creature along. Perhaps one last

effort and...there was no more weight. The line fell close

to the boat, no longer taut with weight. Had the line

broken? — No, it's not possible! — he exclaimed.

Pulling all the line aboard, he saw that there were no

marks to indicate a break. No hooks were bent or broken.

The damned fish had just taken the bait, without actually

being hooked. Damn it! He would never have the same

chance again! Older fish learn to avoid hooks after a

while; by the size of this one, it should have learned

some time ago. Maybe it had taken the bait just by

mistake, not noticing the piece of metal that pierced it.

But then again, what was the harm in trying just one

more time? The night was already terrible enough, with

no catches at all, mosquitoes everywhere, and now an

enormous fish that had escaped; why not throw the

longline again and see if the old fish would make a

second mistake?

Baiting as many hooks as he could with the

leftover bait, he threw the tip of the longline back into

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the water, leaving several meters to be cast slowly.

Throwing them into the cool waters of the lagoon, he felt

a strong tug on the line, followed by the same jerking

motion. — Fell for it again, then? — shouted Thabo,

with a horrifying smile on his face. This time he would

not repeat the same mistake; he was going to head

straight for the shore before the animal dropped the bait.

All he had to do was sit down and grab the oar, all

without letting go of the line. Continuing to pull, he bent

his body to sit up, feeling the constant tension. But a

strong tug on the line knocked it out of the man's hands,

nearly knocking him out of the boat as he reached out to

grab it. Without thinking about what he was doing, he

threw himself onto what was left of the longline, which

ran from the boat into the water, where the animal was

pulling it. The line, which was running through his hands

too fast for him to grab, cut his hands, but he would not

give up on grabbing it and catching his prey. Standing

up, he tried to step on the line, to prevent the animal

from taking it completely. At that moment, the running

hooks passed between his legs and hooked themselves

into his exposed skin. The man screamed in pain, feeling

the strong pulls, this time on his own flesh. In his mind,

he hoped that the fish would let go of the hook as it had

done before, but unfortunately, it was hooked this time.

Still tugging, the big animal pulled him off the boat,

silencing his cries in the cold waters of the lagoon. The

last thing Thabo Amaechi felt was the shock of his body

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against the surface of the frozen lake and the horrendous

pain in his legs.