osmic Is the Crane by Spencer Bolanos,shaved ice with condensed milk

 

Cosmic Is the Crane:

Slamet stood barefoot in the cool mud thinking of shaved ice with condensed milk. His father’s straw hat was much too large for him, but his mother demanded he wear it while fishing. The young boy stepped ankle-deep into the water and recast his line. Slamet’s uncle had told him about the wishing fish – a creature of mythic origin that resided in the wetlands. It is said that if you eat the fish, all your wishes will be granted. His mother often called his uncle a liar, but Slamet liked his stories. He liked being outside. And he liked fishing.

The young fisherman reeled in another perch. Plain and grey, it was an ugly thing. Slamet threw the perch into the ice chest and reached for another worm. As he fiddled with his hook, the boy thought of all the things he’d buy if he caught the wishing fish. Video games and chocolate were obvious. But first he’d buy plane tickets so him and his mom could leave Indonesia. Then he’d buy her a big house in Hollywood right next to Jason Statham.

Slamet inched further into the water until he was knee-deep in the green abyss. Not too far, he thought. The boy looked around to see if his mother was watching him; instead, he spotted a crane wading in the marsh. Slamet’s uncle thought cranes were cosmic. They wade in the water and peer into another dimension when they’re hungry. All fish see are a crane’s feet their whole lives and they call that God. His uncle wagered that some fish had even laid eggs on those toes. He’d say that’s how dumb animals are. That’s how dumb humans are. We could be living on God’s toenail, and we’d never know it until he got hungry. Don’t even get him started on ducks.

The boy didn’t know if he was living on a toenail or not, but he sure liked cranes too. Cranes are cosmic after all. They can summon cyclones and fly into the heavens to see their loved ones. That much was true. That’s what his mother had told him. Slamet stared at the white bird and mimicked its fishing stance.

“If I were a crane, I’d go fishing with dad again.”

            The crane turned and looked at Slamet. It was handsome, he thought. Not like the perch. Slamet stepped further into the water until he was waist deep. He wanted to be closer to the crane.

            But then the line yanked, pulling him forward. A fish. Slamet stepped backwards and drew the creature back to shore. It was a rainbow fish – vibrant with every color imaginable. The boy held the prize in his hand and wondered if it had any magic within it. Slamet held the fish over the open ice chest. He looked at the grey perch, then thought of his father.

            “I have plenty already,” he murmured.

Slamet walked the fish back to the marsh and set it free. It belonged with its family, he thought. The boy scanned the horizon for the crane, but it had vanished. Perhaps above the clouds to visit its loved ones.

About the author

 Spencer Bolanos is a writer from Austin, TX

 Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee?. Half of what you pay goes to the author the oher half goes to expense se.g. Maintaining hthe web site and setting up The Best of Café Lit book each year.