The Pearl

draft02.021815

The winds hit the boat abruptly as the fisherman reached over to pull in the net. “Not another catch of rubbish, He exclaimed.” Disappointed, but too tired to empty the net—he called it a night and hit the sack below the deck. The water dripped down the old stairs that had cracked over the years. He threw off his rain coat and boots and fell on the shredded cot hanging on two rusty nails. The man stared through a small cracked window where he met the stars on a very dark night. He rustled with his thoughts and wondered how many more days until he could pull in a good catch. The water dripped loudly into a large tin can next to his head where a leak came from above. The sound gave him some comfort for his loneliness.

As the sun peered through the cracks in the window and the boat swayed back and forth, the man awoke from his sleep to the smell of the salty sea. Up the stairs he went to prepare his net, hoping to catch supper. As he opened up the net to an empty tin can, a few wires, some shells covered in seaweed—he noticed something sparkle in the corner of his eye. A small pearl covered in the sea plants shined with the countenance of the sun from above. He thought it very unusual to find such a pearl loose in the net. But, his stomach grumbled and he threw it in his pocket. “Back down you go,” as he threw the net on the right side of the boat. That evening he pulled in a huge catch that he could barely handle on his own. He was so thrilled that he now had enough fish to sell back at the dock and quickly turned the boat in that direction.

The harbor was in view and the lighthouse shined a couple miles away in the distance. The moments flew by as the boat bumped the deck and he scurried to tie it down. He could barely sleep that night. The next morning, he arrived at the fish shop and met the man who owned the dock. “Finally, a good catch this time.” The man replied with a nod and handed him the money as some of the coins rolled to floor. The fisherman put the money in his pocket and remembered the pearl. He began to tell the story of the pearl and the good catch that evening. The shop owner offered him a small price for the pearl—the fisherman’s stomach grumbled and he sold the man the pearl and went his way. This owner discovered that this wasn’t any old pearl. He sold it to a very wealthy man who had it engraved on a pin he wore on his chest.

The fisherman found himself at sea again but found himself caught in storm after storm with no fish in sight. As he lay there exhausted and alone, listening to the water drip into the tin can, he gazed at the night sky and counted the stars and breathed a deep sigh.