134 ALBACORA 



"But if I had caught that one on fifteen-thread line, 

 it would have been an all-time record." 



"That fish put up a terrific battle, Genie," Lou said. 

 "He deserved to get away." 



"I think I deserved to catch him," I said. "Damn." 

 I got up out of the chair and took a careless step to- 

 ward the cabin. The pain made me cry out. Lou grabbed 

 me. "I forgot," I said. "I forgot that I can't walk." 



"I'll get her an aspirin," Walt said. 



"I don't want aspirin," I said. "It isn't my head that 

 hurts." 



"I know," Walt said, "but aspirin will make you 

 better all around." 



"You don't suppose," I said, "that you could find me 

 a Scotch and soda?" 



Walt grinned, but I was serious. All my life I had 

 dreamed of catching an albacora, and now I had noth- 

 ing to show for it except an aching hip. 



"Sometimes I wonder," I said, as Lou helped me 

 back into a chair, "if it's all really worth the trouble." 



"If what's worth the trouble?" Lou asked. 



"Everything," I said. "You know. Life." 



"You better make that a double Scotch," Lou shouted 

 after Walt. "Hey, make it two double Scotches while 

 you're at it." 



We continued on our way toward Pisagua, keeping 

 our course three or four miles off shore. Despite the 



