The Fisherman

Ripples formed on the water’s surface as his line was cast, the old man sat in silence, his focus for the moment a fish would bite, only the sounds of crickets accompanied him, like every morning. Feeling the fish curiously inspecting his lure, yet none would bite, as the sun would begin to crest, finally a bite, quickly snapping at reeling the first fish in, he cast his line out again, another bite, another reeled in. Continuing this routine for hours, he left when he had caught the fish he needed for the day.

As he returned to the village that day, he greeted everyone with a smile and a nod, to the mother of the young children that played in front of his house, he presented a large fish to feed to her family, when the mother insisted to pay him back, the old man just waved it off. Next were the village elder, presenting them with the most beautiful fish he had caught, when they wished to present him with lavish silks, he politely declined this gesture. Then the farmers, he gave most of his haul to thank them for their hard work, when they tried to give him gifts of rice, fruits, or vegetables, he would laugh before telling them to keep it for themselves.

Returning to his rundown home, he sat at the hearth, pulling a small bony fish from his basket, and placing it by the fire to cook. As he waited, he spotted a vagrant child standing outside, peering at him through the doorway, gesturing for the vagrant child to come in, but they had run away instead. Pulling the bony fish from the fire, he carefully picked the meat away from the bones with his chopsticks, before nibbling on the morsel of food.

The next morning was the same routine, the old man sat and waited for the fish to bite, silent and focused. The wood from the dock began to creak, looking to see the culprit, was the vagrant child illuminated by lantern light. The child stunned at being caught considered running off yet again, but with a gentle wave, the old man beckoned them to come. The vagrant child approached cautiously, setting their lantern beside them, without saying a word, the old man blew out the light, confused and angry the vagrant child wanted to scream at the old man for their boorishness to touch somebody else’s property, but before they could speak a word, the old man held his finger to his lips, pointing towards the river. With a quick snatch, the old man pulled a sizable fish from the river, the vagrant child was astonished, understanding why the old man had done what he did.

Watching the old man pull fish after fish, the vagrant child was enamored with his skill, his patience and focus were on another level, to pull so many fish up so quickly was impressive. The vagrant child followed the old man back to the village, watching as he would give the fish away without asking for payment and it infuriated them. The old man worked so hard to provide fish and wouldn’t even take payment, when he could easily be the richest man in the village, it infuriated them. As they reached the old man’s home, he pulled out two fish, giving them to the vagrant child, before patting them on the head and returning home.

The next morning the vagrant child returned to the riverbank, again sitting on the dock was the old man, taking a seat next to the old man, quietly observing. From the other side of him, the old man handed over a small fishing rod, one the child could handle, showing them how to cast their line. As they sat there, the old man began pulling fish after fish, but the vagrant child had no luck, every time they reeled their line in, the bait was snatched from the hook, but the old man never laughed and never got angry. Quietly he’d reach for another worm, placing it on the hook for the vagrant child, before letting them cast their line again. As the sun began to beat down on them, the old man placed his large bamboo hat onto the vagrant child’s head, sitting their calmly as he continued to pull more fish.

A month had passed, every day had been the same, the old man would catch fish, give them away, and repeat the process. In that time, the vagrant child had not caught a single fish, always losing their bait, always snapping their line, and yet every day, the old man would still send them off with two fish, while he ate his measly fish alone, not a word of anger or disappointment, the old man would try to teach the vagrant child. The vagrant child was determined; they were going to catch a grand fish, sell it to the village and become rich enough to leave with the skills they acquired from the old man. Feeling a tug on their rod, the vagrant child perked up with anticipation, as they reeled their line in, the fish was strong, fighting the vagrant child at every pull. Inch by inch the vagrant child fought with all their strength to bring in this fish, all while the old man sat and watched silently.

So close to pulling it in, the vagrant child told the old man to ready the net, and the old man quietly reached for the net, ready to help snatch the fish out of the water. So close to the dock now the vagrant child was excited that their first fish would be grander than anything the old man had caught, just then the line snapped, the vagrant child fell to the ground, the old man silently snickered, reaching his hand out to help the vagrant child up, but they instead slapped his hand away. Frustrated, annoyed, embarrassed, the vagrant child felt like a failure, throwing the old man’s bamboo hat back to him, and snapping the fishing pole across their knee before running back to the village, tears streaming down their face.

As the days had gone by, the vagrant child would return to the docks in the morning, but they didn’t see the old man. Stealing meat buns and fruit from the villagers to keep from starving, they slept in the grass patches just outside the village. After a week, of the old man not being at the dock, the vagrant child ventured into the village, the heavy storm clouds blotted out the sun leaving a bad omen. Walking through the streets, there was a dour mood that hung over the villagers, the mother was crying being held by her husband. The farmers were silent, tears ran down their face, trying to remain stoic. As the vagrant child reached the old man’s house, the village elder stood outside, his head bowed as he said a prayer. The vagrant child, ran into the house, pushing past the elder, there laid the old man. He had a peaceful look on his face, his arms were resting on his stomach, but it did not rise nor fall, as the vagrant child went to shake the old man, he did not react, his body so cold. The vagrant child shook the old man more violently, screaming at him with tears running down their face, the village elder pulled the vagrant child away, handing them off to the villagers before shutting the door.

Days had passed, but a dour feeling hung over everybody, the villager’s held a funeral for the old man. He laid peacefully on the alter in front of his home, in the finest silks provided by the elder. Each villager that bowed their heads to him, would leave a coin with him, as a thank you for his kindness and generosity over the years. The mother came with her family, giving a deep bow, through the tears she continued to thank him over and over again, before she left, she placed a small pouch of gold coins, her husband held back his own sorrows as he led his wife and children away. Next the famers came, leaving a large sack of rice, leaving a whole basket of their finest fruits and vegetables. Each gave a deep bow shouting their thanks and appreciation that it echoed throughout the village. As night fell the elder lead the procession through the streets, leading the old man to his burial site, beside his wife and children.

The vagrant child had not known what to feel, they watched from afar as everybody said their goodbyes, seeing what the old man truly meant for the village, to see how much people had cared for him. Yet they were being selfish, only wishing to steal his knowledge for their own benefit. As the procession left the old man’s home, the vagrant child snuck inside, grabbing the old man’s fishing pole and his bamboo hat, before heading to the riverbank. The old man’s rod was long, and heavy, yet it felt supple and flexible in the child’s hands. Setting the bait like the old man had taught them, before casting the line, the vagrant child sat in wait.

Cast after cast the child kept failing, but like the old man had taught them, they were patient yet persistent. All night long the child hadn’t caught anything, their arms were tired from swinging such a heavy rod, they were frustrated with still never catching anything, but they still pressed on. As dawn began to break, the vagrant child felt a tug on their line, slowly reeling it in, before a mighty tug. The fish pulled at the line, dragging the vagrant child along, but they did not give any ground, leading the fish like the old man had taught them, the vagrant child continued to fight with the fish. Slowly bringing the fish towards the docks, every inch was a grueling battle, only a few feet from the docks now, the child had no more strength to pull the fish, straining and crying that even now they couldn’t catch a single fish, that they were an unwanted brat, that they would be alone for the rest of their life and wouldn’t be surrounded by countless people who loved them like the villagers loved the old man, the child was ready to give up.

Suddenly the child felt a warm presence surround them, feeling as if they were being embraced, some older hands clasped onto the rod to assist the child, guiding the child how to move, giving them the strength they need to pull this fish from the waters. With a final pull, the sun broke through the sky, catching the first rays of sunlight was a massive fish, its rainbow scales shimmering in the light as it flew in the air, the vagrant child was stunned by this, letting out an excited cheer, looking around to see who assisted them. Seeing nobody behind them, the child was confused, as they turned towards the river again, they would see the old man on the other side of the riverbank, his pristine white robes, he smiled at the child, giving a simple nod to show how proud he was. The child couldn’t hold it any longer, tears ran down with no end, letting out all their emotions, apologizing to the old man profusely asking him to watch over them as they took care of the village the same way he did. The child looked up at the old man again, he just smiled as he looked on at the child. Getting on their knee’s the child bowed their head into the dock, shouting thanks for everything the old man had done. As they looked up, the old man waved goodbye, fading away as he crossed over, knowing he had left a worthy successor.