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- 07/17/2019
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Prickly Prompts - 5. #765 The Mackerel
The Mackerel
Gil sauntered along the dock, a rolled up blue blanket firmly tucked under his left arm, hoping the harbormaster didn’t notice him.
“Gil!” Too late. The man’s usually friendly expression had turned grim as he stormed towards where the Mackerel was moored. “I can’t let you go out there. A storm is coming.”
“Oh come on, Bill. There’s barely a cloud in the sky!”
“You know how quickly the weather can change around here. ” A flock of seagulls flew by and cawed loudly the moment Bill had reached him, drowning out his words.
“Only for an hour!” Gil grabbed the rope that tied the Mackerel to a post, loosened the knot with a sharp pull, and jumped on the boat.
“Gil!”
Grinning, he waved at Bill, turned the key, and waited until the engine caught. “I’ll be back in an hour!” Gradually he raised the throttle and drove away with a roaring engine, knowing Bill could do nothing to hold him back. After a few moments, he put the rolled-up blanket down by his feet and steered his boat away from the coast.
When he was surrounded by nothing but the sea, he sat down and watched the horizon. The wind was picking up and the water had become choppy. Grey cloud mountains formed on the horizon. He still had time.
Smaller clouds were racing the sky now. When a gust of wind tugged on his hair, he heard the radio crackle. Bill was calling him.
It began to rain. Gil unrolled the blanket and carefully took the statue in hand. He ran his fingers over the smooth metal, following the intricate pattern forming the scales and fins of a silver mackerel. It almost looked alive. Inhaling the briny air deeply, he held his hands over the water. For a short moment, it looked as if the fish was wriggling its tail and Gil’s hands were empty. He stood up, slipped out of his raincoat, grabbed the hem of his sweater, and pulled it over his head. Next, he snapped the button of his pants open and pulled them down together with his underwear. After throwing his boots aside, he stood naked in the rain, arms spread to the side. In the background, he heard the radio--Bill was calling his name. He looked over his shoulder towards the coast, bent his knees, and dived head-first into the sea. The moment the tips of his fingers touched the water, his legs turned into a huge fishtail and moments later its mighty fin had vanished under water.
Three months later, Jer wandered along the northern beach. As he always did, he stopped where they’d found his lover’s shattered boat, thrown on land by the storm. Gil’s body had never been found.
For a short moment, the clouds disappeared, and a silver glint to caught Jer’s eye. Curiosity briefly distracted him from grief as he bent over to see what the sand hid.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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