Page 36 of Catch of a Lifetime
“Why me?” Jerry complained. “Why couldn’t he steal someone else’s fish? Fletcher’s, for instance. Why didn’t he go and rip holes in Fletcher’s nets, huh? Fletcher’s a dick. Me and Dave, we’re supposed to be friends.”
“It’s probably why he went after yours in the first place.”
Jerry grunted. “That was a lot of fish, Joe. Reckon he’s got a parasite or something. Reminds me of when Biscuit had worms. She was hungry all the time. He’s probably got sea worms.”
I pulled a disgusted face.
Jerry nodded at me and took another swig of his beer. “Bet you it’s worms.” He burped.
“It’s notworms. And please don’t equate him with your dog.”
He pointed his bottle at me. “Biscuit is my baby.”
“Dave is neither my pet nor my baby. He’s my partner. You’re being offensive.”
“What’s offensive is the money he cost me today, Joe. That’s what’s offensive.”
Wow. What a dick. I meant me. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.
I’d been so caught up in mooning about Dave, and wondering why he was doing an impression of a great white shark in a feeding frenzy out there, that I hadn’t registered it was a big financial loss for Jerry.
“I’ll pay,” I said.
It was the wrong thing to do. Jerry stiffened. “That wasn’t the point, mate. No.”
“I know it wasn’t the point. And yes.”
“No.” He drained his beer and set the bottle roughly on the grass beside him. My wild lawn was showing hints of summer brown already. “Like you said, he ain’t your pet. Not your kid, either. He’s your partner. You’re not responsible for him. If anyone pays, he does.”
“I get that, but since I can’t even get him to come and see me, I don’t think I’ll be able to explain that he owes you a whole chunk of money. Oh. Also, he doesn’t have or comprehend money.”
“We are not having an argument about this,” Jerry said firmly.
We absolutely weren’t.
He was definitely getting a quad bike and a shed for Christmas, though.
We sat in silence and drank our beers.
“There’s a chance he’ll do it again,” I said after a while.
Jerry growled.
“If he does, will you let me pay then?”
“No. If he does it again, I’ll sort it. Him and me will be having words.”
Jerry’s mood improved somewhat after another beer, but he was still salty when he stomped off home for his supper.
I grilled myself a nice steak on the barbecue and stayed out as dusk fell, watching the stars come out and the moon slowly rise.
Once, I’d put on a bit of a show for Dave out here, trying to lure him into coming after me. I’d had a suggestive and naked prance about with a garden hose, and I’d felt like an utter fool. I’d have made an idiot out of myself again in a heartbeat, only a quick check-in showed me that he was out at sea, still on the hunt.
He’d been starving the entire time he stayed in my bed, hadn’t he?
I’d congratulated myself on bringing him food and providing for his needs. It dawned on me that what I’d actually been doing was giving him the equivalent of, at best, one treat-size Snickers a day.
Why had he stayed?
