Turbinio

Thyme and Parsley

It took some yelling, straining, cursing, and Gyro laughing for you and Johnny to pull the hooked fish to shore. With all your effort, you hoped a legendary cajaro would emerge from the water, but you were disappointed to see a small catfish wriggling on the surface. Johnny groaned in frustration, and you sat down beside him, panting, tired from the three long minutes of helping him pull the fish and trying to muster the strength to ignore Gyro's teasing.

Despite honorable efforts, that fish was no more than twelve inches and it was impossible to feed it to three hungry people. You stood there and watched as Johnny held the fish in his hands to make sure it didn't jump back into the water, taking a few punches to the face from the animal.

''Shit, Gyro!'' He could be heard cursing. ''Can you help us out?!"

''Nyo-ho! Why are you saying that? You're doing well!''

''Mierda!'' You interrupted them. ''This is too small for the three of us. Gyro, you get the fish ready, I'll get some more.''

''Huh?'' Gyro looked confused at your sudden orders, then questioned. ''Do you want to fish some more? Don't you think we've wasted too much time already?''

''I won't use the fishing rod.''

''What are you planning to do? Fish with your mouth like a bear?'' The Italian scoffed.

The effects of fatigue and hunger should have dissuaded one from this idea, but you had to make it work. Gyro and Johnny watched silently as you took off your boots and some accessories.

Not caring about getting your clothes or hair wet, you carefully walked into the lake and used the clear water to look for rocks. Cascudos, you thought. There is only one way to fish cascudos: by getting wet and catching them with your hands. The water was bitterly cold, and you shivered, feeling your shoulders tingle as you stepped into the lake and felt the mud sink lightly into you.

You searched for cascudos on the rocks at the bottom of the lake and approached cautiously when you found a few. With a sudden movement, you tried to grab one with your hands, but you had forgotten that this type of fish had no scales and was therefore much more slippery. Refusing to let the fish escape, you were forced to plunge into the water to catch it with both hands. A loud, tired sigh escaped your mouth as you stood up, soaking wet, shivering from the cold, and with an armored catfish in your hands.

''A-ha!'' You exclaimed. ''Cascudo! Now we have enough fish!''

Johnny looked dumbfounded, Gyro stood there, hesitant and disbelieving, watching you come out of the pond and drop the fish on the ground in front of them. Your mouth opened and closed, like a fish. The weight of the wet fabric clung to your body, and Johnny had fooled himself into thinking that there was no way your clothes could be more inappropriate - until he saw you completely soaked, squeezing the excess water out of your hair.

You were too exhausted to care about any sort of decorum.

''What are you idiots looking at? Come on, we've already wasted too much time with these fish!''

You looked so ridiculous that Gyro struggled not laughing.

As agreed, Gyro had to show off his Italian cooking skills by preparing two catfish. After all, the idea of fishing was his. But did you know that Gyro wouldn't even bother to remove the spines. Johnny sat next to you and watched you dry your hands on the grass, hoping to get rid of the fish smell.

The cold didn't bother you anymore, but you accepted a towel Johnny had kindly offered to dry off. You talked for a while as you watched Gyro grill the two skewered fish over the fire. Gyro was on his feet, and the sight of the man in front of you was very different from what you had seen in the newspapers. There was more detail, he looked taller, of course, and beautifully toned. The long bones of his body were covered with smooth, supple muscles, strong but elegant.