Proza, vertimas ir korekcija: Mind reading Lake.

08. 06. 2011


When I passed the forest I glimpsed a lake.
In the middle of the lake there was fisherman sitting in the barely moving boat, looking down in to the water, waiting for fish. Heavy fogginess was hanging above his boat and for a few moments I could not see him at all. However, as I was slowly getting nearer to the pier, the sun started to rise, and all the early morning fogginess disappeared.
The water looked calm when I came to the shore, just under the pier it moved against the wooden barriers and had an unpleasantly harsh colour.
Suddenly the boat in the lake moved. The paddles started to splash, the fisherman began to swim to the other side of the lake. Somehow, I wished to arrive to that shore faster than him with no reason.

The lake was surrounded by growing trees, fenced bushes, and a good path, but I quickly got lost. I pictured my self being about half way around the lake but the more I was guessing, the more I believed that I was wrong. Deciding that the opposite shore was just around the corner, the time I spent walking confused me.
I stopped and started to listen, hoping for the noise of splashing water, or a sound of a boat crashing against tree roots growing from under water - any a sound I could follow - but the environment was quiet. And only the ducks was quacking and birds twittering, but nothing that helped.
Luckily, I noticed a shadow passing through the trees, it later sailed away. I rushed with him.

I’m not losing him. God! I’m walking on the right side of the lake and I will meet him soon. If not, I will come back to the shore where I started. The lake is much bigger - how far am I?
And about the fisherman – is he playing with me? Maybe he realised I was following him?
We might have a good laugh later.
He might stand by the bank and we will meet.

He might step in the water with his high fishing boots and he’ll ask me to help hold the rope, so he could moor his boat.
First, he will wait for me and then he’ll ask.
Maybe he’ll ask me where I came from, and later will offer me a fish that he keeps in his boat under the bench.
And he’ll talk to me smiling, “I’ll come back tomorrow morning. I always fish alone. ”
I’ve never fished, I’ll say.
He’ll laugh. He’s probably an old man.
“I began to fish at your age, ” he’ll say.

I got lost in time. The pathway seemed as endless trees tunnel; I had no idea why I was doing this, why I was walking that way. I thought that maybe I will never end my walk around the lake. However, I still could catch a moving shadow in the green undergrowth; it was moving the same speed as me. Why don’t I shout at him? It would be much simpler, suddenly I began to think.

Hi, is it a good catch today?
How much did you get?
Do you know where to rent a boat and a fishing rod?
Would you sell me a fresh fish?
It’s been a long morning!
Stop there; I have been trying to catch you up with for a good hour!

The more I was thinking about what to say, the more hopeless I felt, even angry. None of my ideas sounded like good conversation starters. I simply didn’t know how to speak to people.
Well, if I start running now I will pass him, and then, I could wave right before his eyes and he will stop. He will.
I ran fast trying to save time to find a better landing place. Once, I stopped, quite breathless, the boat was far enough behind me, so I was glad. The last idea seemed the most suitable.
                                         
I finally was on the shore and started to look for the boat. To my surprise the lake was empty. I looked in both directions but there was nothing to be seen.
Surely there had been a boat on the lake. Maybe it was empty and not moving? I ran, probably too far, and left it a long way behind me. I don’t know.
It was early in the morning, when I arrived at the lake; it wasn’t very visible in the mist. I was far too drowsy, not really myself.
It could’ve been a big heavy bag inside the boat, not human. Or maybe there was no boat either, but only a melting black hole in the mist floating above the water, becoming a magical illusion, which my eyes were drawn to.
But what if the fisherman is lurking now behind my back, as if a crazy killer is trying to lure me into his trap?

“I see that you’re alone. You look lost. ” I heard him saying to me. “The pier is far away from here. I will take you back, ” his wooden boat quietly jabbed against the tree roots under water, the oars stopped turning. “I followed you all the way round, ” he says in friendly tone. “People often get lost around the lake. There are some very odd stories about it. When you came out of the forest, its looks small, but it’s not. Sometimes it seems there’s a fisherman sitting in the boat… Where do you come from? ” He asks and coughs slightly into his sleeve. Then, he bends down in the boat and twists something between his hands and slowly puts it away under the bench, straggling himself hard to do it.
“I fish everyday, ” he talks to me while looking down his boat. “There are too many fish. No one fishes around here. ”  He stands straight, the boat wobbles; his bearded jaw appears out of his hood. “Can you help me get off? ” He asks me. “When I was a young man like you, I could manage by myself but not anymore. ”

I help him, but I’m thinking that I’m spending too much time by this lake. “Which way is the shortest way to the pier? ” I ask him.
“I’ll take you back, ” He answers, and then he throws me a slimy rope and orders me to tie it to the nearest tree, “You must help me first. ”
When I’ve done it, he lifts a seriously heavy bag out of the boat. The boat is moving from side to side, drifting away.
“Come aboard and take the bag out, ” he insists and appears behind my back.

I do what he says; I step on to the boat. Water warm as soup wets my feet. I smell a fish. Strangely, I can’t see any sign of fishing. No fishing rods on the wooden floor or over the side, nor a net. I raise my head to look for a fisherman but for a moment I
lose my balance, and I slip and fall inside the boat. Water wets my back. I hear the fisherman steps as the water splashes away, sparkles under sun.
He grabs a rope and pulls me out of the water.

I chuck the heavy bag out. He pulled it away from the track; which fell away towards the woods. I spotted a deep mark left in the grass, as if something sharp and hard suddenly had came away inside the bag.
When he came back with an untied rope, we left. Sitting in the boat, when we reached the middle of the lake, I looked back behind the trees. There was nothing in sight. The lake is very big.
The fisherman wouldn’t have been able to see me on the shore.
“It is common to be haunted here, ” I hear him saying suddenly. “Look, ” a moving fish appears in his hands, so he drops it into the bag that he takes from under the bench. “Hold it, hehh... ” and he coughs.