‘Santiago’ the boy said.

‘Yes’, the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago.

‘Can I go out and get sardines for you for tomorrow?’

‘No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.’

‘I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you, I would like to serve in some way.’

‘You bought me a beer,’ the old man said. ‘You are already a man.’

‘How old was I when you first took me in a boat?’

‘Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?’

‘I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.’

‘Can you really remember that or did I just tell it to you?’

‘I remember everything from when we first went together.’

The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident, loving eyes.

‘If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble’, he said. ‘But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.’

‘May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too."

‘I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.’

‘Let me get four fresh ones.’

‘One,’ the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises.

‘Two,’ the boy said.

‘Two,’ the old man agreed. ‘You didn’t steal them?’

‘I would,’ the boy said. ‘But I bought these.’

‘Thank you,’ the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride.

‘Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,’ he said.

‘Where are you going?’ the boy asked.

‘Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.’

‘I’ll try to get him to work far out,’ the boy said. ‘Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.’

‘He does not like to work too far out.’

‘No,’ the boy said. ‘But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.’

‘Are his eyes that bad?’

‘He is almost blind.’

‘It is strange,’ the old man said. ‘He never went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.’

‘But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.’

‘I am a strange old man.’

‘But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?’

‘I think so. And there are many tricks.’

‘Let us take the stuff home,’ the boy said. ‘So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.’

They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden box with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat.

They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as longs as the one room of the shack. The shack was made of the tough bud-shields of the royal palm which are called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy-fibred guano there was a picture in colour of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were the relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under the clean shirt.

‘What do you have to eat?’ the boy asked.

‘A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?’

‘No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?

‘No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.’

‘May I take the cast net?’

‘Of course.’

There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too.

‘Eighty-five is a lucky number,’ the old man said. ‘How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?’

‘I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?’

‘Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.’

The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

‘Perico gave it to me athe bodega,’ he explained.

‘I’ll be back when I have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.’

‘The Yankees cannot loose.’

‘But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.’

‘Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.’

‘I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indinas of Cleveland.’

‘Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sox of Chicago.’

‘You study it and tell me when I come back.’

‘Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five ? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.’

‘We can do that,’ the boy said. ‘But what about the eighty-seven of your great record ?’

‘It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five ?’

‘I can order one.’

‘One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from ?’

‘That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.’

‘I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.’

‘Keep warm old man,’ the boy said. ‘Remember we are in September.’

‘The month when the great fish come,’ the old man said. ‘Anyone can be a fisherman in May.’

‘I go now for the sardines,’ the boy said.

When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. The boy took the old army blanket off the bed and spread it over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerfull although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted.

The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep.

‘Wake up old man,’ the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees.

The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled.

‘What have you got?’ he asked.

‘Supper,’ said the boy. ‘We’re going to have supper.’

"Iacobe" puer dixit.

"Quid ais?" senex dixit. Qui hyalum tenens cogitabat de rebus iam pridem transactis.

"Licetne evehi tibi sardinas captum, quas cras tecum sumas?"

"Non. Abi lusum folle basso. Equidem adhuc possum remigare, Rogerius rete iactabit."

"Ego libenter evehar. Nisi tecum piscari potero, alio modo tibi prodesse velim."

"Tu" senex inquit "mihi emisti cervesiam. Tu iam es vir."

"Quot annos habui, cum primo mecum navigares?"

"Quinque habuisti et paene necatus es, cum piscem praeproperê intraxissem, ut naviculam paene diffringeretur.

Recordarisne?"

"Recordor caudâ piscis huc illuc agitante transtrum esse diffractum et clavam strepitasse. Recordor me a te in proram proiectum esse, ubi erant umidae lineae convolutae, et tremuisse integram naviculam teque strepitasse, cum illum clavâ tamquam arborem caederes, et odorem sanguinis suaveolum circa me olfactum."

"Verumne recordaris an ego tibi haec narravi?"

"Recordor omnia, ex quo primo unâ profecti sumus."

Senex puerum aspexit oculis sole adustis, confidentibus, caritate plenis.

"Si" inquit  "filius meus esses, aleam subirem teque mecum ducerem. At filius cum sis patris tui matrisque tuae, tum es in nave felici."

"Licetne capere sardinas? Scio quoque, ubi accipiam quattuor pisces illices."

"Restat mihi piscis illex hôc mâne adhibitus. Quem cistae indidi salitum".

"Sine me comparare quattuor illices recentes".

"Unum" senex dixit. Qui numquam abiecerat spem confidentiamque. At nunc eaedem animatae sunt quasi vento exorto.

"Duos" puer dixit.

"Duos" senex assensit. "Num eos furatus es?"

"Quod facerem" puer dixit. "Sed hos êmi".

"Gratias ago " senex dixit. Qui erat simplicior, quam ut ex se quaereret, quando assecutus esset hanc modestiam. Sed scivit se eandem assecutum esse scivitque se eâdem non honore privari neque se eâdem amittere veram confidentiam sui.

"Cras erit dies bonus, hôc fluento valente" dixit.

"Quo vehêris?" puer interrogavit.

"Procul evehar, ut altum introeam vento verso. Velim in alto esse ante primam lucem".

"Videbo, ut ille piscetur in alto" puer dixit. "Tum te, si verê piscem magnum hamaveris, adiuvabimus".

"Ille haud libenter piscatur procul in alto".

"Non" puer dixit. "Sed aliquid videbo illi invisibile, velut avem devorantem, quo faciam, ut in altum evehatur, hippuros sequens".

"Suntne illius oculi tam mali?"

"Ferê caecus est".

"Mirum est" senex inquit "illum caecutire, quamvis numquam venatus sit testudines. Hoc enim oculis nocet".

"At tu per annos venatus es testudines ante Lîtus Culicum, tamen oculi tui sunt boni".

"Sum senex mirus".

"Nuncine autem satis vales ad capiendum piscem verê magnum?"

"Puto me sat valere. Necnon nôvi multas technas".

"Feramus haec domum" puer dixit, "ut afferam rete iaculum,quo capiam sardinas".

Instrumenta e nave sustulerunt. Senex mâlum umero impositam gessit, puer cistam ligneam, cui inerant lineae fuscae firmê complicatae et convolutae, hamum hamatumque iaculum scapo instructum. Cista pisces illices continens in navis puppi posita est iuxta clavam, quae adhiberi solebat ad domandos pisces magnos versus longitudinem attractos. Nemo furabatur seni aliquid, tamen melius erat secum auferre velum lineasque graviores, quia ros iis nocebat et quamvis certissimê sciret nullum indigenam sibi aliquid surrepturum esse, senex putavit non necesse esse aliquem temptare eo quod in nave relinqueret hamum atque iaculum hamatum.

Unâ per viam ad casam senis cum ascendissent, per ianuam apertam introierunt. Senex mâlum velumque convolutum parieti apposuit, puer iuxta posuit cistam ceteraque instrumenta. Mâlus longitudine ferê aequavit unicum casae conclave. Casa constructa erat tenacibus scutis gemmariis palmae regalis, quae dicitur guano, inque casâ erant lectus, mensa, sella, locus in sŏlo terreno, ubi coqui poterat carbone ligneo. In fuscis parietibus, qui constructi erant e guanonis duri et fibrosi laminis planatis interque se superstructis, erat pictura Sancti Cordis Iesu versicolor alteraque Virginis de Cobre. Quae ab uxore senis erant relicta. Prius in pariete fuerat photographema uxoris coloratum, sed hoc abstulerat, quia eodem aspecto sibi videbatur desertus esse; quae imago nunc erat in pluteo angulo imposito, sub camisiâ senis purgatâ.

"Quid habes comedendum?" puer interrogavit.

"Ollam oryzae flavae et piscis. Vin’ aliquantum?"

"Nolo, comedam domi. Vin’ ignem accendam?"

"Nolo, accendam postea. Aut comedam oryzam frigidam."

"Licetne sumere rete iaculum?"

"Scilicet".

Non adfuit rete iaculum et puer recordabatur se hoc vendidisse. At hanc fabulam agebant omni die. Non fuit olla oryzae flavae et piscis, quod puer etiam non ignoravit.

"Numerus octogenarius quinarius est numerus felix" senex dixit. "Quomodo tibi placeret me cepisse piscem, qui exenteratus pondus haberet plus mille librarum?"

"Sumam rete iaculum et ibo captum sardinas. Vin’ apricari in casae introitu?"

"Volo. Sunt mihi acta diurna hesterna, in quibus legam nuntios follis bassi".

Puer nescivit, num acta diurna hesterna quoque mente essent ficta. Sed senex eadem traxit e loco sub lecto sito.

"Petrus ea mihi dedit in ‘Bodega’".

"Reveniam sardinis captis. Tuas measque unâ glaciei imponam, mâne eas inter nos dividamus. Cum rediero, narra mihi de folle basso".

"Iancii non possunt perdere".

"Sed timeo ‘Indianos’ Clevelandienses".

"Confidas Ianciis, mi fili. Cogita de magno Di Maggio".

"Cave, ne timeas ipsos Russatos Cincinnatienses et Albisoccatos Chicagonienses".

"Legas de iis et dicas mihi, cum revenero".

"Sentisne nobis emendam esse sortem sortilegii numeri octogesimi quinti? Cras erit dies octogesimus quintus".

"Quod" puer inquit "facere possumus. Sed quid de die octogesimo septimo, quo cepisti piscem optimum?"

"Quod bis fieri non potest. Putasne te invenire posse sortem numeri octogesimi quinti?"

"Quam tibi mandare potero".

"Unam tesseram. Quae constat dolariis duobus et dimidio. A quo hoc possumus mutuum sumere?"

"Hoc facile est. Semper mutuari possum duo et dimidium dolaria".

"Puto me quoque hoc fortasse posse. At ego non conor mutuari. Primum mutuaberis. Deinde mendicaberis".

"Cave ne frigeas, senex" puer dixit. "Recordare nunc esse mensem Septembrem".

"Quo mense veniunt pisces magni" senex dixit. "Maio mense omnis homo scit piscari".

"Abibo nunc piscatum sardinas" puer dixit.

Cum puer rediit, senex dormiebat in sellâ, sol erat loco profundo. Puer stragulum militare de lecto sumptum dorso sellae umerisque senis superposuit. Qui umeri erant miri, adhuc robusti, quamvis valdê vetusti, et collum adhuc robustum quoque, rugaeque non erant perquam visibiles, si senex dormiebat capite delapso. Eius camisia toties erat sarta, ut similis esset velo sarturaeque sole pallescerent multimodis. At senis caput erat valdê senile et oculis clausis faciei senis nihil inerat vividum. Acta diurna genibus eius transposita pondere bracchii affixa sunt, in aurâ vespertinâ. Senex erat pedibus nudis.

Puer eum ibi reliquerat; cum rediret, senex adhuc dormiebat.

"Expergiscere, senex" puer dixit manumque imposuit alteri senis genui.

Senex oculis apertis paulisper ex itinere longinquo rediit. Deinde subrisit.

"Quid accepisti?" interrogavit.

"Cenam" puer inquit "Sumamus cenam".