"Hemingway, Ernest - Garden of Eden" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hemingway Ernest)

was down again and the young man found that although the fish felt as strong as
ever the tragic violence was lessened and now he could be led around the end of
the jetty and up the canal.
"Softly does it," the waiter said. "Oh softly now. Softly for us all."
Twice more the fish forced his way out to the open sea and twice the young man
led him back and now he was leading him gently along the jetty toward the cafe.
"How is he?" asked the waiter.
"He's fine but we've beaten him."
"Don't say it," the waiter said. "Don't say it. We must tire him. Tire him. Tire
him."
"He's got my arm tired," the young man said.
"Do you want me to take him?" the waiter asked hopefully.
"My God no."
"Just easy, easy, easy. Softly, softly, softly," the waiter said.
The young man worked the fish past the terrace of the cafe and into the canal.
He was swimming just under the surface but was still strong and the young man
wondered if they would take him all the way up the canal through the length of
the town. There were many other people now and as they went by the hotel the
girl saw them out of the window and shouted, "Oh what a wonderful fish! Wait for
me! Wait for me!"
She had seen the fish clearly from above and his length and the shine of him in
the water and her husband with the bamboo pole bent almost double and the
procession of people following. When she got down to the canal bank and,
running, caught up with the people, the procession had stopped. The waiter was
in the water at the edge of the canal and her husband was guiding the fish
slowly against the bank where there was a clump of weeds growing. The fish was
on the surface now and the waiter bent down and brought his hands together from
either side and then lifted the fish with his thumbs in both his gills and moved
up the bank of the canal with him. He was a heavy fish and the waiter held him
high against his chest with the head under his chin and the tail flopping
against his thighs.
Several men were pounding the young man on the back and putting their arms
around him and a woman from the fish market kissed him. Then the girl had her
arms around him and kissed him and he said, "Did you see him?"
Then they all went over to see him laid out on the side of the road silver as a
salmon and dark gunmetal shining on his back. He was a handsome beautifully
built fish with great live eyes and he breathed slowly and brokenly.
"What is he?"
"A loup," he said. "That's a sea bass. They call them bar too. They're a
wonderful fish. This is the biggest one I've ever seen.
The waiter, whose name was Andre, came over and put his arms around David and
kissed him and then he kissed the girl.
"Madame, it is necessary," he said. "It is truly necessary. No one ever caught
such a fish on such tackle."
"We better have him weighed," David said.
They were at the cafe now. The young man had put the tackle away, after the
weighing, and washed up and the fish was on a block of ice that had come in the
camion from Nimes to ice the mackerel catch. The fish had weighed a little over
fifteen pounds. On the ice he was still silver and beautiful but the color on
his back had changed to gray. Only his eyes still looked alive. The mackerel