Reinventing Mike Lake by R.W. Jones Page A

monotony.  I was surprised at how openly I had talked about my wife’s death with him.  It was the second time in just a few days, when you include my late night chat with Jean.  I thought me being more open was a good thing, though I still felt myself holding back on some things, afraid to open any hallways I was afraid to go down.  After all, on the boat, I was a few miles away from shore.  It’s one thing to walk home from a bar when I start feeling badly; it’s another to have to jump in the ocean to get back home.
                  Tommy stared out into the ocean for a minute, thinking “If you’re really bored you can come work on the boat if you want.  Bob here is leaving in a few days so we’ll have an opening.”
                  “That’s a very nice offer, but I don’t know the first thing about working on a boat,” I replied.
                  “Well, I saw you bait your own line, that’s about half the job.  The other half is being a nice enough guy.  You seem to have that covered too.  It’s very low stress, and we’ll pay you under the table, though the pay will be mostly in fish,” Tommy said, laughing, and then added, “If your dog’s nice, she can come too.”
                  I immediately wondered if Bahama would jump into the ocean when she saw a fish, but the walls of the boat were probably tall enough to alleviate most of those concerns.  I answered, “Let me think about it.  You said Bob is leaving in a few days?”
                  “Yup, couple days, just show up Thursday morning if you want on.”
                  When we got back to the dock, empty handed, having just caught a few small ones and tossing them back, I walked back to my room thinking Jean will be proud of me.  This was indeed very keysey of me.
     

15
                  On Thursday I started my new job.  I arrived at about a quarter to nine.  I came solo, which I did the entire time I worked on the boat.  The thought of Bahama jumping off the side of the boat and ending up who knows where – maybe the Bahamas – was too big of a concern for me.
                  Tommy smiled when he saw me.  “I was hoping you’d come.  Welcome to the team!” 
                  Casper gave me a slight nod from the wheel, and said, “Welcome aboard, matey.”
                  “Should I get here earlier, I wasn’t sure?”  I asked.
                  “You can if you want, but I won’t dock your pay if you don’t show up till later,” laughing, he continued.  “I get here about an hour before we head out just to get things going, if you want to help, cool, if not, no worries, matey.”
                  “Oh.  Okay.”  Feeling nervous, I stared out into the water.
                  “Remember what Bob did a couple days ago?  He just went around being friendly and asking if anyone needs help when they got a bite?  If any of the little ones need help with their life vests or anyone asks for a drink, there’s a cooler in the back.  They are free – they should be for as much as we charge them to go fishing for a few hours.  That’s all I really need you to do.  If you have any other questions when we are out there, just let me know.”
                  Quickest training I ever received for any job, but, then again, I hadn’t had a “real” job since college—if pizza delivery is considered a real job, that is.
                  We pulled away from the dock.  Tommy told me that I would only be doing the 9 a.m. because they had a full crew for the 2 p.m.  That was fine with me because I didn’t want Bahama’s entire day to be cramped in the room.  Also, it gave me time to write before it got too late, should I have chosen to write.
                  The group was very similar to the 9 a.m. boat I had done just a couple of