Two Men In A Boat
by Mike Mayak
The sun was warm (but not too warm) and the boat was upstream past the bend in the river. Distant banks with trees on either side made the two men feel like there was no civilization and they were the only two people in the world.
Carl had been fishing for about an hour with no results and Jer had been sitting there fuming, feeling like they were characters in an old British novel or something.
Finally, Jer broke the silence.
“Carl, I’ve known you for what? Forty years?” Jer said.
Carl looked up from staring at the water.
“Pretty much. Why?” Carl asked.
“It’s this…well, supposed boyfriend of yours.” Jer said. “You never bring him around. You certainly aren’t living with him. I’ve never met him. I didn’t see him when you went to the dance…”
“Dancing would be out.” Carl said.
“But I’m your best friend,” Jer said. “I’d like to at least meet the guy. I mean, well…I’m getting a little suspicious.”
“Suspicious?” Carl said with a smile.
“Yes.” Jer said. “Warren’s been gone for, what? Six years now? You two had a wonderful twenty years together and I realize that you probably don’t want people feeling sorry for you, but making up an invisible, nonexistent boyfriend is just…”
“Hold up a minute,” Carl said. “He isn’t nonexistent. Or invisible. He just doesn’t….Well, besides…we like our privacy.”
“I can understand that,” Jer said. “And I’m sorry if I’m being a little nosy, but…”
There was a sudden tug on Carl’s fishing line.
“Oop! You got a bite!” Jer said.
There were several more jerks on the line, but instead of trying to reel the fish in, Carl grabbed the line with his hand and gave three quick tugs.
After a moment there was a sudden splash just by the boat and Jer jumped back, almost falling over the other side of the boat. He was half expecting a shark.
Instead, there was a man about their age but lean and muscular holding on to the boat. He was pale, almost greenish with red hair and a big grin.
“Jerome Klapp,” Carl said. “This is…”
Here, Carl said a word in a strange sounding language, with clicks sounding like a dolphin.
“My boyfriend.” Carl said.
The boyfriend extended a damp hand to Jer and Jer shook it.
“Just call me Marlin,” the boyfriend said, his grin growing wider.
Jer noticed the smile, how the teeth looked like his and Carl’s, not sharp like some fishes. He noticed the V-shaped torso and the complete lack of clothes.
And how just beneath the surface of the water, his waist trailed off into a long tail coated with iridescent blue scales which flipped lazilly above the water.
“Now you see why I didn’t bring him dancing?” Carl said.
—end—
authorjeffbaker 