© Copyright 1999 James David
Pearce
GUARDIAN
OF THE FISH
Before they cleared the dirt road toward the Winton highway, the Whippet coughed and quit.
Cap'n Fred, a good carpenter and a fair farmer, wasn't much on automobiles. He got out, raised the hood and studied the engine for a few minutes.
"Boweaver, there ain't no way I can make this thing run. I'm going to have to walk to the highway and get some help," he said, looking at the big ice chest in the back of the Whippet where a rear seat had been in better days.
"I'm 'fraid of what'll happen, with all the rascals living in the woods 'round here."
In a flash of bravado, Boweaver said: "Go on, daddy. I'll stay with the fish."
The old man looked at the boy. "OK. I won't be long. You guard the fish."
Boweaver, trying hard to force himself to be brave, watched his father disappear around the curve in the dirt road. He sat down on the Whippet's running-board and began to day-dream. Then he moved to the front seat, grasped the steering wheel and pretended to be driving down the road.
That's when he saw the crowd of "rascals" – big fellows, all of them – coming his way. Quaking inside, he stiffened outside.
"What have you got in the car, boy?" asked a big one, sticking his face through the open window.
"Oh," said Boweaver, struggling to be casual, "just some good fresh fish."
"Well, what are you sitting here in the middle of the road for?"
"The car won't run and my daddy's gone for a mechanic."
"Well, you know, boy, some good fresh fish is just what I've been wanting," said another of the unwelcome visitors. "How much you gettin' for 'em?" He winked at his companions.
The friendly manner put Boweaver at ease, and he began to feel that he might be able to make a business deal for his father in his absence.
"Well," he said, "you look at 'em and see what you like, and I expect we can do some business." He handed out a perch, a rock and a herring for consideration.
"Well, boy, these fish feel a little bit ripe, but they still do look right nice. I think we'll just buy the whole lot of your fish." He turned to one of his buddies. "Go get some of them baskets to put these fish in. We're going to make a deal with this young fellow."
When the baskets arrived, the rascals took all the fish from the ice chest.
"Boy, you just wait right here. Just as soon as we take these fish home, we'll be right back with your money."
Boweaver watched them leave, then got out and walked around the Whippet and sat down again on the running-board. He was feeling fairly proud when Fred and the service-station man came up the road.
The mechanic looked under the hood and fiddled around some. Then he told Cap'n Fred to get in the Whippet and turn on the ignition. He took the hand-crank and gave it a vicious spin. The Whippet purred.
Fred looked around and saw the empty ice chest.
"Hey, Boweaver! Where's the fish?"
Boweaver, barely containing his pride, told his father about the deal he had made to sell the fish.
"They said if I'd wait right here, they'd be right back with the cash."
Fred looked at Boweaver kind of funny. Then he looked at the mechanic. The mechanic looked at the engine, purring under the open hood.
Fred turned off the ignition and went to sit on the running-board beside Boweaver. The mechanic sat down on the road and leaned against the front wheel.
They waited a little while, and then Fred stood up and said he figured they might as well go on home.
~~~
Country road
near Winton
~~~~~~~~~
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