The Catch of a Lifetime

Part 2

I rose before the sun and made my father a hearty breakfast of fried salted fish and rice. We ate together in comfortable silence, savoring each bite as the first pale rays peeked over the distant waves.

When our simple meal was finished, Pa pulled me into a fierce hug, his weathered cheek scratching against mine. "You be good, anak. I'll be back before you know it."

Nodding mutely against his battered shirt, I blinked back the hot sting of tears as he pulled away and hoisted his battered duffel bag over his shoulder. With one last look and a proud smile, my father turned and strode away down the dusty path, headed for the harbor to catch the morning ship across the strait.

Sniffing hard, I gathered myself and focused on the day that lay ahead. I neatly tied off the remaining fish from yesterday's haul into double-wrapped bundles to prepare for Lola (grandmother/an elderly woman) Alena's arrival. 

Right on time, I heard the squeaking wooden wheels of the old woman's cart rumbling down the street toward my humble shack. I stepped outside, shielding my eyes against the bright morning light as Lola Alena's wrinkled face emerged from behind the cart's canopy.

"Aye, 'nak (short term for 'anak')!" The elderly woman cackled as she brought her cart to a stop, leaning down to pull me into a quick embrace. "You've got fish for me again today?"

I laughed and nodded, gathering up my neatly bundled catches. "Of course, Lola. Sólo lo mejor para ti (Only the best for you)."

With practiced hands, Lola Alena inspected and weighed each bundle, clucking her tongue happily at the quality of the day's offerings. As the last bundle was appraised, she reached into the faded apron tied around her waist and pulled out a tidy stack of bills.

"Tres mil cuatrocientos (Three thousand four hundred pesos) for this bunch, hmm?" she murmured, quickly counting out the pesos and passing them to me. "Should bring in a nice return at the morning market."

I accepted the money gratefully, enough for me to get by comfortably for the next couple days. Tucking the bills securely into the folds of my shirt, I bent to give the elderly woman another firm hug.

"Salamat, Lola. For everything," I said softly.

The wrinkled face that had been so deeply creased with care and hardship all my life softened into a warm smile. Reaching up a rough hand, Lola Alena cupped my cheek affectionately.

"Es un placer (It's my pleasure), Lisita," she replied fondly, using the diminutive pet name she'd bestowed on me as a girl. "Now you run along before those rascal friends of yours start wondering where you've gotten to, eh?"

Laughing, I pulled away and watched as the withered old woman set off once more, her heavy cart laden with my yesterday's catch pushing slowly ahead.

With one last look over my shoulder, I gathered my now empty bags and turned inland, cutting through the village roads toward where my friends awaited at our usual meeting spot--a wooden shelter alongside the cracked road leading to the village school.

I could already hear the laughter of my friends echoing out from beneath the tin roof as I approached. BamBam and Jungkook were locked in a wrestling match on the ground while Chiquita, Jungkook's younger sister, cackled and egged them on mercilessly. Fun-natured Jisoo watched from the sidelines, a big smile on her pretty face.

"You two are such animals," I called out fondly as I dropped my heavy bundles and sank down onto the weathered bench.

"Nalalisa!" BamBam crowed, shoving Jungkook off and bounding to his feet. He scooped me up in a big bear hug, his bare chest bare and slick with perspiration from their roughhousing. "Was wondering when you'd get here!"

I laughed and accepted an enthusiastic hug from Chiquita as well before BamBam retrieved his shirt and we settled in together on the bench. Jisoo offered me a bamboo section filled with cold water which I accepted gratefully, the warm morning already stiflingly humid.

As we waited for the motorbike sidecar "tricycle" that served as our transportation to the schoolhouse, we chatted and joked like any other teenagers. Jisoo launched into a dramatic retelling of her evening watching her eccentric aunt's rambunctious children, which set us all howling. Even when the shaky sidecar rig chugged into view, we lingered for a few extra moments just enjoying each other's company before finally piling in.

One by one, we dismounted at the aging concrete schoolhouse and straggled to our respective classrooms, still exchanging laughs and jovial barbs. Though my mind did turn wistfully toward my father's journey and how much I would miss him, it was impossible not to be buoyed by the warmth and affection of my friends.

Finally taking my usual creaky desk in Mrs. Reyes' classroom, I had barely settled in before she launched into morning announcements.

"Alright, alright settle down you miscreants," the stout old woman barked, her eyes twinkling despite her gruff tone. "I wanted to give you all a heads up about your semester project."

A collective groan went up from my classmates, but Mrs. Reyes plowed ahead undeterred.

"You'll be compiling a photo essay project that will be due two months from now, right before your final exams. I want you each to find a subject or theme that captures an important aspect of your life and bridge it to our culture here in our village. Then you will need to write an accompanying 750-word essay to go with your photographic image(s)."

My stomach flip-flopped a little at the thought of such an intimidating assignment on top of our usual coursework. But at the same time, the idea of using my words and photography to highlight the village I loved so dearly sent a little thrill through me.

As Mrs. Reyes droned on about requirements and deadlines, my mind began to wander. Perhaps I could find a way to pay tribute to the life of a subsistence fisherman, like my father before me. Or maybe—

The possibilities began to swirl.

Author's note:

Hmm...what "possibilities" could that be Lisa?