Catch of the Day

“So, what’s the catch?” The eyepatched merchant leaned over her counter and looked me in the eyes, smirking. She lifted her hand and pointed behind me, wryly stating, “Must be a big one, if you’re using a damn pickup truck to bring it in.”

              I turned my head back to look at the truck I’d backed in front of the stall. The Angle Bay Fish Market was bustling with activity that day; just your average Saturday out here, really. I was sure that some of the potential customers in the crowd hated me for sticking a bloody truck in the middle of the place, but oh well. Something something, the cost of doing business, yada yada.

              “Yep. Damn right, it’s a big one.” I don’t try to hide the massive, beaming smile on my face. “Not sure what it is, to be honest. I’m thinking some sort of bluefin tuna.”

              “You don’t know?” That tidbit seemed to pique the fish saleswoman’s interest. She raised an eyebrow, staring at me. “Hmm… Mind if I take a look at this ‘Bluefin Tuna’?” She seemed skeptical, which I supposed made sense. If even I didn’t know for sure what I’d reeled in, it was probably pretty rare. Or I was trying to scam her. One of those two things. Heh. ‘What’s the catch?’ indeed.

              However, I was trying to make a profit here. So, I really had no reason not to let the shopkeeper inspect my catch. “Not at all. Go right ahead.” I made a grand show of stepping aside and presenting the truck’s tailgate to her. “What’s your name, by the way? I feel like calling you ‘the merchant’ or ‘the shopkeeper’ is a bit rude.”

              ‘The merchant’ or ‘the shopkeeper’ chuckled. “Name’s Olga.” Olga slyly added, “I’m honoured that you bothered to ask it.”

              “No problem.”

              Olga opened the waist-high door on the side of her stall and leaped aboard my truck’s open tailgate almost effortlessly. It was only then that I noticed her gruff and practical attire; a tank top and ripped blue jeans. Which isn’t very practical, now that I think about it, but at least it appeared that way on the surface.

              “Hmm…” Olga scratched her chin, a confused look in her one good eye. “This is no ordinary bluefin, I’ll tell you that much. The eyes are all wrong. These finlets are way too big. This dorsal side,” she gestured to the top of the giant fish, “is way too light of a blue.” Yeah…

              I’d pretty much known all the things Olga said when I hauled the thing in. I owned up to that fact immediately, “Yeah. I did say a bluefin was my best guess.”

              Olga kept staring at the fish, arms crossed and foot impatiently rapping on the solid metal floor of the tailgate. “Could you tell me how you got this thing?” When I let out a confused utterance, she explained with a sharp laugh, “’Cause I feel like there’s definitely a story here.”

              Well, I can definitely do storytime. I really didn’t mind one way or the other, since it gave me an opportunity to relay this absolutely riveting story. It was very exciting, and it just tumbled out of my mouth. Didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, really.

              I explained, my words speeding from my excited lips, “I just caught it earlier this morning, brought it straight into the bay once I was done. Weather out there was real rough.”

              Olga raised a hand in an attempt to stop my speech. It worked, somewhat. She interrupted me, “And this was today?” I nodded in response. She stopped my attempted resumption by commenting, while pointing towards the sky, “It’s sunny today. And has been for the entire day. No idea what you’re talking about.”

              She was absolutely right about that; the sun shone down brightly upon us, its heat forming layers of sweat on my forehead. Which was extremely strange, when I thought about it. It was an absolute storm in the morning.

              “I swear, the rain was pounding down this morning.” Olga raised an eyebrow, but let me continue this time. “My clothes got absolutely soaked. The waves were really choppy as well; it felt like they were attacking the boat.” Almost subconsciously, I found myself crushing my hands together, to represent what I imagined from then. I don’t know if it was the factoid or the hand-crushing, but the merchant’s suspicious expression only deepened as I steadily approached my story’s climax.

              “Of course, the fish was struggling the whole time, too. It really did not want to be caught.” This might have seemed obvious, but that would be because it was. “I’m not sure how I didn’t get turned over, to be honest. The fish was fighting against me, the water was fighting against me. I guess I’m just that good at fishing!” I chuckled, but Olga didn’t seem quite so jolly.

              Her voice seemed… canned as she absentmindedly replied, “Impressive, impressive.” She kept staring at the misshapen fish beneath her.

              “Oh yeah,” I added, “it’s perfectly intact. I didn’t put the knife to it or anything. Figured I’d leave that to you, or whoever I sold it to.”

              “Good.” Olga then stayed silent for about 30 seconds more. She kept staring at the misshapen fish beneath her. I get it, it looks weird. How do you need to spend 5 minutes looking at it?!

              “Yeah.” Her voice started out very dull, very neutral, before she went back to her previous cheery, sassy tone. She looked up at me, a massive grin on her face. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a beauty there. Just haul it ‘round back, and I’ll give you your prize.” She hopped off the truck’s bed and started opening the wooden gate attached to the right end of her shop.

              *

              “Wait, what?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Really. $30,000 for a single fish.” As cliched as it sounds, I felt like dollar signs were going to slot into my eyes at any second.

              Seriously, this sounded like an insane deal. And I mean that quite literally. I was not entirely sure I wasn’t mishearing Olga. “$30,000.”

              “Yep.” Olga nodded, leaning on a nearby crate. “It’s a fair market price.” She paused before shrugging. “Sell it in Japan, I can get 10 times that off a rich customer.” Her gaze narrowed on my incredulous face. “I thought you’d know this. You’re an industry vet, aren’t you?”

               “Well, yeah, but…” I trailed off. I didn’t want to go into detail. It was kind of embarrassing. So I decided not to elaborate on my apparently stunning lack of knowledge.

              “Anyway, I’ll take it.” I held back the urge to laugh evilly.

              “Good.” Olga turned around and went back into her shop. “Wait here a second so I can sign some checks.”

              While I waited for my payday, I took a look around my benefactor’s stockyard. I didn’t catch anything unusual there, to be honest. A pile of tires sat in the corner. A workbench clung to the back gate, filled with tools. Cans, most of them empty, laid around the field. And, of course, it all smelled like dead fish. I was used to the scent, so it did little to affect me.

              While I was waiting there, a thought popped into my mind. A thought of suspicion. Something about this deal didn’t pass muster, as it were. I had no idea what, but something about it just felt off. There had to be a catch.

              I asked as much when Olga came out into the open. “So, what’s the catch?”

              Olga smirked. “The catch is what you brought in.” …

              Very funny.

              “Seriously, though? You’re right. There is a catch.” The vendor let out a weighty, confident chuckle. “You only get half of it now.” She reached forward and made to hand me two checks, which I presumed totaled $15,000. “The other half, you’ll have to do me a favour for.” There’s the catch.

              To be honest, I was somewhat disarmed by Olga’s frankness. “What’s the favour?” There were a lot of favours I was willing to do for $15,000.

              Olga raised a finger to stop me and turned around. “Give me a sec. Just gotta go get something.” I narrowed my eyes and glared skeptically at her retreating form. I muttered to myself, “Is this a trap?”

              As it turned out, it was not a trap. At least, I was about 99% sure it wasn’t. This was because Olga came back hauling a huge fish tank. I could hear her panting, see her arms shaking. The poor little fish in there were frantically swimming around at light speed, which made some sense. To them, their entire world was shaking. It would be like an earthquake, but worse.

              “A little… urgh! A little help here?!” Oh, right. I rushed over to help Olga carry the fish tank to my truck. It was then that I realized the back was closed, and we’d have to lift it over.

              Even with the two of us, that thing was heavy. My muscles felt like they were about to tear from the strain. And keep in mind, this is from a career fisher. I did not appreciate having to lift the tank over the tailgate of the truck, which is why when Olga called out and told me to get the back hatch, I was so relieved. Total credit to her for the idea, by the way. I’d blanked by then.

              Once the tank was securely inside the bed of my truck, I slumped against it, sweat already lining my brow. “Ugh… you were right… heavy…”

              “Yeah…” Olga grabbed a nearby towel and wiped off the layer of sweat on her forehead. “Anyway, I was… ah… hoping you could let those fish free? Around Angle Bay’ll do. Then come back here for the other half of the sale.”

              I instantly agreed. “Deal.” I figured that emptying the tank would lighten the load before my arms gave out, so I’d be fine there. I asked no questions, because $15,000 was enough to silence any lingering doubts I might have had. Like I said earlier, dollar-sign eyes.

Olga shot me a tired smile and a wink. “Godspeed.”

*

It was a very short drive to Angle Bay. Didn’t even matter; the storm rolled in anyway once I got close. No lightning yet, although my ears did pick up the sounds of some far-off thunder. I imagined the fish in the back would be quite panicked, although hopefully less so once I let them free.

I parked as close as I could to the docks, so I didn’t have to walk very far with the massive tank. Seriously, the thing was almost as wide as my wingspan, and over a metre high. Ugh… this is going to be miserable.

Once I got out of my truck, I found myself staring off the currently empty pier, at the turbulent waves. Huh. I guess everyone left pretty quickly. Makes sense, with this crappy weather.

Oh, god… Once I’d looked at the waves for long enough, my head started spinning. Something about those waves just made me feel… off. Which I found very strange, since I’d handled them fine earlier. Whatever.

As soon as my eyes broke contact with the water, I stumbled. Tripped over myself. Nearly faceplanted on the hard wood of the pier. What the?! I stood up, shook my head, and regained my bearings. Clapped my cheeks lightly for good measure. No, no. It’s fine. Everything’s good.

As I lowered the hatch and… did my best to pick up the fish tank, questions starting rushing through my head like a torrent. It was, like, a 10-minute drive over here. Why didn’t Olga do it herself? Why was she willing to pay me $15,000 to do this? Did she expect me to carry this bloody tank on my own?!

My eyes once again glanced upon the water, and they were seemingly sucked in once again. I kept my footing as I marched toward the edge, and the waves suddenly seemed fascinating in their aggression.

            Suddenly, the tank didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Maybe I just wasn’t focusing on its weight. I was just focusing on the incoming tide, the tall waves reaching up and pouring over the now slick wood on the dock.