He let the line slip through his fingers while he reached down with his left hand and made fast the free end of the two reserve coils to the loop of the two reserve coils of the next line. Now he was ready. He had three forty-fathom coils of line in reserve now, as well as the coil he was using.
"Eat it a little more," he said. "Eat it well."
Eat it so that the point of the hook goes into your heart and kills you, he thought. Come up easy and let me put the harpoon into you. All right. Are you ready? Have you been long enough at table?
"Now!" he said aloud and struck hard with both hands, gained a yard of line and then struck again and again, swinging with each arm alternately on the cord with all the strength of his arms and the pivoted weight of his body.
On my way to play for a church service this morning, I passed two fat wild turkeys on the side of the road. They moved slowly, without fear, almost like royalty. I've been thinking about those turkeys all day.
Benjamin Franklin, after the bald eagle was chosen as the national bird, wrote in a letter to his daughter, "For my own part I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country. He is a bird of bad moral character. He does not get his living honestly. You may have seen him perched on some dead tree, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the labour of the fishing hawk; and when that diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to his nest for the support of his mate and young ones, the bald eagle pursues him, and takes it from him. . . . the turkey is in comparison a much more respectable bird, and withal a true original native of America."
In a lot of ways, Santiago is a lot like that turkey that Franklin praises here. Dependable and patient. Not cunning and violent, but respectable. The old man is the same, rowing out on the ocean every day, casting his lines, and waiting for luck to swim up and bite his hook.
A long time ago, I was driving along another highway with a friend, and we saw a flock of wild turkeys on the side of the road. My friend told me that seeing a wild turkey was a sign of coming wealth and prosperity. That happened over 15 years ago, and I'm still waiting for that promised turkey payday. Still working several jobs to pay my bills.
Today, I played keyboard/organ for two different church services. Went grocery shopping. Spent a couple hours mowing my lawn. Took a short nap. Then went for a walk with my wife and son to a new ice cream store that just opened in my hometown. My wife got butterscotch ice cream. My son chose a double scoop of root beer float. And I got a single of peach. On our way home, we stopped by the home of one of our best friends, sat on her front porch, and visited with her and her family visiting from Louisiana.
I am a little exhausted right now, but I feel rich. Not in terms of money in my pocket or bank account. But I've got a pretty good life. I have a roof over my head. My family is healthy and happy. The work that I do is fulfilling. My lawn is cut. And I got to share an ice cream moment with people I love tonight.
Saint Marty would call that prosperity.
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