Fishy

by Daryl Rogers

 

There was something screwy
about Lewis McCraken.
He started a painting company,
already in his forties,
with no experience as a contractor.

He had lost some vague position,
working for the government
in South America.
A nervous breakdown was suspected.

His prescription glasses
were tinted red,
and his smile was unnerving.

He took me, Danny and Steve,
his new employees,
to his houseboat at the lake
on a kind of get acquainted gig.
My friends on the crew, like me,
were in their early twenties.

We stayed fucked-up
the whole weekend.

Got out in Lewis' row boat
in the middle of the lake, where
it was roughly 300 feet deep
and too far out to swim to shore,
and the trolling motor quit.

We didn't have any oars.
We were stoned and drunk.

And, here's the crazy part:
the boat sprang a leak.
One of the seams on the flat bottom
popped.

It wasn't just spurting water.
No.
It was like storm sewers
getting flooded
and water gushing out from
under a manhole cover.

We had a coffee can
filled with worms
that we dumped
and used to bale.
We used our hands too.

Danny took the motor loose
and used the two-by-four
it was clamped to the side
of the boat with, to paddle.

He paddled, like a man
who might not get the
opportunity again.
We made it back, and
thought nothing more of it.

We walked back to Lewis' houseboat
past the other houseboats,
docked in crowded rows
on each side of the pier,
with different colored hanging lanterns.

When we got there
we explained our situation.
Lewis had a little talk with us.

Later that night I got my fishhook
caught on the opposite dock.
Danny got inn Lewis' canoe
to go pull it out,
turned the canoe over
reaching for the fishhook,
caught his leg under the seat
and almost drowned.

The bad thing was: Steve's
tackle box sank.

Lewis never took us back
to the lake.
And, later he went nuts again.

 

© 2006 Daryl Rogers

Daryl Rogers was born in 1955 and started writing poetry around 1984. His first acceptances came from Wormwood Review and the New York Quarterly, which, unfortunately, only encouraged him to keep it up. He edited River Rat Review from 1986-1992. He's done some illustrations for small press magazines, including portraits of Patti Smith, Bukowski and WCW for Bogg Magazine. His most recent chapbook is Sunny Day, available from March Street Press.