The Grand Old Trout

I saw a trout that I have known for a long time watching the

tomb being put in. It was The Grand Old Trout, raised as a

fingerling in the trout hatchery at iDEATH. I knew this because

he had the little iDEATH bell fastened to his jaw. He is many

years old and weighs many pounds and moves slowly with

wisdom.

The Grand Old Trout usually spends all of its time upstream

by the Statue of Mirrors. I had spent many hours in the past

watching this trout in the deep pool there. I guess he had been

curious about this particular tomb and had come down to watch

it being put in.

I wondered about this because The Grand Old Trout usually

shows very little interest in watching the tombs being put in.

I guess because he has seen so many before.

I remember once they were putting in a tomb just a little ways

down from the Statue of Mirrors and he didn't move an inch

in all the days that it took because it was such a hard tomb to

put in.

The tomb collapsed just before completion. Charley came

down and shook his head sadly, and the tomb had to be done

all over again.

But now the trout was watching very intently this tomb being

put in. He was hovering just a few inches above the bottom and

ten feet away from the Shaft.

I went down and crouched by the river. The trout were not

scared at all by the closeness of my appearance. The Grand Old

Trout looked over at me.

I believe he recognized me, for he stared at me for a couple of

minutes, and then he turned back to watching the tomb being

put in, the final inlay work being done.

I stayed there for a little while by the river and when I left

to go to my shack. The Grand Old Trout turned and stared at

me. He was still staring at me when I was gone from sight,

I thought.

Book Two: inBOIL

Nine Things

It was good to be back at my shack, but there was a note on the

door from Margaret. I read the note and it did not please me and

I threw it away, so not even time could find it.

I sat down at my table and looked out the window, down to

iDEATH. I had a few things to do with pen and ink and did them

rapidly and without mistake, and put them away written in

watermelonseed ink upon these sheets of sweet smelling wood

made by Bill down at the shingle factory.

Then I thought that I would plant some flowers out by the

potato statue, a bunch of them in a circle around that seven-foot

potato would look nice.

I went and got some seeds from the chest that I keep my things

in and noticed that everything was ajar, and so before planting

the seeds, I put everything back in order.

I have nine things, more or less: a child's ball (I can't remember

which child), a present given me nine years ago by Fred,

my essay on weather, some numbers (1-24), an extra pair of

overalls, a piece of blue metal, something from the Forgotten

Works, a lock of hair that needs washing.

I kept the seeds out because I was going to put them in the

ground around the potato. I have a few other things that I keep

in my room at iDEATH. I have a nice room there off toward the

trout hatchery.

I went outside and planted the seeds around the potato and

wondered again who liked vegetables so much, and where were

they buried, under what river or had a tiger eaten them a long

time ago when the tiger's beautiful voice had said, "I like your

statues very much, especially that rutabaga by the ball park,

but alas. . ."

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 833