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第2章 Talking Before the Sea（第3页）

theoldmansaid.“Whydooldmenwakesoearly?Isittohaveonelongerday?”

“Idontknow，”

theboysaid.“AllIknowisthatyoungboyssleeplateandhard.”

“Icanrememberit，”

theoldmansaid.“Illwakenyouintime.”

“Idonotlikeforhimtowakenme.ItisasthoughIwereinferior.”

“Iknow.”

“Sleepwelloldman.”

Theboywentout.Theyhadeatenwithnolightonthetableandtheoldmantookoffhistrousersandwenttobedinthedark.Herolledhistrousersuptomakeapillow，puttingthenewspaperinsidethem.Herolledhimselfintheblanketandsleptontheotheroldnewspapersthatcoveredthespringsofthebed.

HewasasleepinashorttimeandhedreamedofAfricawhenhewasaboyandthelonggoldenbeachesandthewhitebeaches，sowhitetheyhurtyoureyes，andthehighcapesandthegreatbrownmountains.Helivedalongthatcoastnoweverynightandinhisdreamsheheardthesurfroarandsawthenativeboatscomeridingthroughit.HesmelledthetarandoakumofthedeckashesleptandhesmelledthesmellofAfricathatthelandbreezebroughtatmorning.

Usuallywhenhesmelledthelandbreezehewokeupanddressedtogoandwaketheboy.ButtonightthesmellofthelandbreezecameveryearlyandheknewitwastooearlyinhisdreamandwentondreamingtoseethewhitepeaksoftheIslandsrisingfromtheseaandthenhedreamedofthedifferentharborsandroadsteadsoftheCanaryIslands.

Henolongerdreamedofstorms，norofwomen，norofgreatoccurrences，norofgreatfish，norfights，norcontestsofstrength，norofhiswife.Heonlydreamedofplacesnowandofthelionsonthebeach.Theyplayedlikeyoungcatsintheduskandhelovedthemashelovedtheboy.Heneverdreamedabouttheboy.Hesimplywoke，lookedouttheopendooratthemoonandunrolledhistrousersandputthemon.Heurinatedoutsidetheshackandthenwentuptheroadtowaketheboy.Hewasshiveringwiththemorningcold.Butheknewhewouldshiverhimselfwarmandthatsoonhewouldberowing.

Thedoorofthehousewheretheboylivedwasunlockedandheopeneditandwalkedinquietlywithhisbarefeet.Theboywasasleeponacotinthefirstroomandtheoldmancouldseehimclearlywiththelightthatcameinfromthedyingmoon.Hetookholdofonefootgentlyandheldituntiltheboywokeandturnedandlookedathim.Theoldmannoddedandtheboytookhistrousersfromthechairbythebedand，sittingonthebed，pulledthemon.

Theoldmanwentoutthedoorandtheboycameafterhim.Hewassleepyandtheoldmanputhisarmsacrosshisshouldersandsaid，“Iamsorry.”

“Queva.”

Theboysaid.“Itiswhatamanmustdo.”

Theywalkeddowntheroadtotheoldmansshackandallalongtheroad，inthedark，barefootmenweremoving，carryingthemastsoftheirboats.

Whentheyreachedtheoldmansshacktheboytooktherollsoflineinthebasketandtheharpoonandgaffandtheoldmancarriedthemastwiththefurledsailonhisshoulder.

“Doyouwantcoffee?”

theboyasked.

“Wellputthegearintheboatandthengetsome.”

Theyhadcoffeefromcondensedmilkcansatanearlymorningplacethatservedfishermen.

“Howdidyousleepoldman?”

theboyasked.Hewaswakingupnowalthoughitwasstillhardforhimtoleavehissleep.

“Verywell，Manolin，”

theoldmansaid.“Ifeelconfidenttoday.”

“SodoI，”

theboysaid.“NowImustgetyoursardinesandmineandyourfreshbaits.Hebringsourgearhimself.Heneverwantsanyonetocarryanything.”

“Weredifferent，”

theoldmansaid.“Iletyoucarrythingswhenyouwerefiveyearsold.”

“Iknowit，”

theboysaid.“Illberightback.Haveanothercoffee.Wehavecredithere.”

Hewalkedoff，barefootedonthecoralrocks，totheicehousewherethebaitswerestored.

Theoldmandrankhiscoffeeslowly.Itwasallhewouldhavealldayandheknewthatheshouldtakeit.Foralongtimenoweatinghadboredhimandhenevercarriedalunch.Hehadabottleofwaterinthebowoftheskiffandthatwasallheneededfortheday.

Theboywasbacknowwiththesardinesandthetwobaitswrappedinanewspaperandtheywentdownthetrailtotheskiff，feelingthepebbledsandundertheirfeet，andliftedtheskiffandslidherintothewater.

“Goodluckoldman.”

“Goodluck，”

theoldmansaid.Hefittedtheropelashingsoftheoarsontothetholepinsand，leaningforwardagainstthethrustofthebladesinthewater，hebegantorowoutoftheharborinthedark.Therewereotherboatsfromtheotherbeachesgoingouttoseaandtheoldmanheardthedipandpushoftheiroarseventhoughhecouldnotseethemnowthemoonwasbelowthehills.