“I killed him in self-defense,”the old man said aloud.“And I killed him well.”
Now he knew there was the fish and his hands and back were no dream.The hands cure quickly,he thought.I bled them clean and the salt water will heal them.The dark water of the true gulf is the greatest healer that there is.All I must do is keep the head clear.The hands have done their work and we sail well.With his mouth shut and his tail straight up and down we sail like brothers.Then his head started to become a little unclear and he thought,is he bringing me in or am I bringing him in?If I were towing him behind there would be no question.Nor if the fish were in the skiff,with all dignity gone,there would be no question either.But they were sailing together lashed side by side and the old man thought,let him bring me in if it pleases him.I am only better than him through trickery and he meant me no harm.
“Yes there is,”he said aloud.“ I can lash my knife to the butt of one of the oars.”
I have no understanding of it and I am not sure that I believe in it.Perhaps it was a sin to kill the fish.I suppose it was even though I did it to keep me alive and feed many people. But then everything is a sin. Do not think about sin.It is much too late for that and there are people who are paid to do it.Let them think about it.You were born to be a fisherman as the fish was born to be a fish.San Pedro was a fisherman as was the father of the great DiMaggio.