“BringanyofthepapersofthetimethatIwasgoheoldmansaid.
“YoumustgetwellfastforthereismuchthatIlearnandyouteachmeeverything.Howmuchdidyousuffer?”
“Plenty,”theoldmansaid.
“I’llbringthefoodandthepapers,”theboysaid.“Restwell,oldman.Iwillbringstufffromthedrugstoreforyourhands.”
“Don’tfettotellPedricotheheadishis.”
“No.Iwillremember.”
Astheboywentoutthedooranddowntheworncoralrockroadhewasgagain.
ThatafternoonthereartyoftouristsattheTerradlookingdownieramoybeersanddeadbarracudasawomansawagreatlongwhitespihahugetailattheendthatliftedandswungwiththetidewhiletheeastwindblewaheavysteadyseaoutsidetheentraheharbour.
“What’sthat?”sheaskedawaiterandpoihelongbaeofthegreatfishthatwasnowjustgarbagewaitingtogooutwiththetide.
“Tiburon,”thewaitersaid.“Eshark.”Hewasmeaningtoexplainwhathadhappened.
“Ididn’tknowsharkshadsudsome,beautifullyformedtails.”
“Ididher,”hermalepanionsaid.
Uptheroad,inhisshack,theoldmanwassleepingagain.Hewasstillsleepingonhisfadtheboywassittingbyhimwatghim.Theoldmanwasdreamingaboutthelions.
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