'The Old Man and the Sea' ...the way it SHOULD have ended

The old man could feel his tongue pasted against the roof of his mouth.  Warily he looked at his bottle of water.  At the same time the fish gave a strong tug on the rope and the old man looked out over the sea.  He could not drink just yet, but he was very tired now.  The old man shook his head warily.1

“My fish, will you make me crazy with thirst?” Santiago ran his tongue over his teeth.   2

The sun was over the old man’s head when the fish stopped pulling.3

“Three days tired you out my fish?” He asked, looking to the slackened line.  There seemed to be no other sign of the fish under the water.  It was very still.  The waves did not rock his skiff and the sun did not waver in the sky.4

“I should drink some water.” The old man glanced at his small bottle but shook his head.  “I must save it.  Soon, I will have some.” 5

The sun faded for the rest of the day over the still water.  The stars woke over a still boat.  Running his hands carefully over the slackened line, the old man lay down.  He made himself comfortable on the ribs of the skiff and listened to the breathing of the ocean.  His left hand was closed gingerly over the line, waiting for movement. 6

“I wonder if the great DiMaggio ever slept in a boat.  His father was a fisherman once.  Perhaps his father would take him in his boat. Yes, his father took him in his skiff.  The great DiMaggio surely did sleep in a boat once…”  The old man fell asleep.7

The sun was still cold and distant when he woke up.  A gentle tug of the rope rustled through his hands.  The old man closed his hands quickly and the tugging stopped.  Then, over the water came a call.8

“Almost dead!” The old man leapt up.  There was a sky above him, the skiff between him and the sea, and a ripple where the fish had jumped.  9

“First I was talking to myself, now my fish answers me.”  The old man sat down.  The water was still again, but he held the line fast.  “Perhaps it was my mind.  I have not had water for so long.  But I cannot take a chance of reaching for the bottle now.”  I must wait.  I can wait.10

Suddenly, the fish was soaring again.11

“No fish yet!”  The words resounded in the old man’s ears.12

“I must have water!” cried the old man.  “My fish is truly wonderful, but no fish is so wonderful so that he can speak.”  The old man reached for the water bottle as he heard yet another voice.13

“Keep a good hand on the rope.”  He whirled around and saw the boy resting on the bow.14

“Now I know my mind is not well!  I have not seen you for four days!”15

“That is true.  The man I fish with and I came across your boat last night.  You were sleeping very soundly.  We did not want to disturb you.  He left me here to help and will come back once you have caught your fish.”16

“Last day.”  A call came from the sea.  The old man turned his head toward the sound.  I must be mad. No. Not mad. Not yet.17

“You’re not mad.”  The boy reassured him.18

“But the fish...it spoke to me.”  I could not have imagined it.19

“No, you must be dreaming.  No estas loco.”20

Santiago felt a quick tug.  My fish, he is panicking.  I must pull the line in before he takes it back.  He pulled back the line.  One foot, two feet, then three.21

“I have finally beaten you fish.”  There was a sudden tension on the line.  “What is this my fish?”  The line began to cut through his hands.  It was slipping away from him.22

“I will not let you escape my friend.”  The old man tightened his grip.  There was a sudden pull on the other side of the line.  He was thrown against the side of the skiff.  Darkness consumed his mind.23

What strangeness.  Where has it gone?  The old man awoke.  It was only a dream. A dream.  There was a gash on the left side of his head and blood trickled down slowly.  But I feel no pain?  No. Not now.  Focus old man, focus. 24

“There is no tug on the line, strange.”  Yes, very strange.25

He glanced over the side of the skiff into the sea.  There is no movement.  My fish, have the sharks gotten to you?  No.  The water has not been darkened.26

He pulled the line in with little effort.  “Why does it come to me so easily?”  The old man gave a final short pull at the line.  Is he so clever?  The line had snapped and the fish was gone.  “He has defeated me.” No!  This cannot be!  Foolish old man!  To have fallen asleep and let the great fish escape!   “Ay no puede ser!”27

Santiago turned quickly around muttering curses and knocking his water bottle over.  He stiffened at the sight before him.  There sat the boy grinning at him.  He spoke.28

“88.”  The water spread slowly away from the bottle and was absorbed by the skiff.29