Page 7 (1/2)

I remember them packed in their church, their heads all bowed in prayer, so rosaries, theinto boats I reht as boats arrived and departed Each time they came back empty handed, more tears

Despite the circuht into the fold I reh for bread while my father went out in a boat and helped search I re Dad’s face when he stepped back onto the dock for the last time His eyes were closed, but hers were open That’s what I reirl wrapped up in blankets, with a dirty, sunken face and ropes of tangled red hair And weird eyes

I rerimy face Unlike all the other eyes I saw, hers hadn’t leaked with tears They seemed as depthless as the sea itself, and hot, almost like brownish-yellow fire I think they stuck with me because I couldn’t pinpoint the emotion in them Not for years

A gull caws, bringing ainst the boat, can feel the wet fog on my face

I did it I’h Genius or crazy?

I don’t have tiive the captain a sie—household name I tell myself to buck the fuck up, try to act like the record-breaking Red Sox pitcher they expect I sign everything fro jokes and answering a bunch of questions while the chef serves me two omelets I can’t taste

“Thanks, ood”

I sign his apron, listen to someone’s account of a record I broke last summer When I can, I steal away to have a s hands

I close my eyes and try to feel the warm sun on my face, but all I feel is pressure in my throat and chest, behind my eyes

“Hey, dawg” I look up and find one of the crew lighting his own smoke I think his name is Chris He’s kind of short and wiry, with brown hair hidden beneath a gray beanie He’s another one of the American crew members “Just want to tell you thanks My kid loves the Sox He’s gonna be so happy when he sees that ball”

“Yeah—no problem, man”

“If you don’tway out here, in the middle of the ocean?”

I s new phone lines Maybe internet, too, if we can find a way to make it work”

He nods once “Riding back to Cape Toith us?”

“Yeah”