Chapter 10: THE ART OF CATCHING THE CROSS-EYED SHARK

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It was a perfect, lazy afternoon. Juan Tabagwang and I were eager to go to Tomadors’ Tavern, but we were afraid of Kurso’s doberman who bit Juan’s butt. Instead, we decided and bought 10 bottles of “kuwatro kantos”, a fake imitation of “agua de pataranta,” from another tavern. Then we went to a perfect secluded spot with an excellent view of the sea. Many colorful fishing boats along its shore were haphazardly parked. We made ourselves comfortable under the shade of the coconut trees. After drinking several bottles of “kuwatro” we became tipsy and our noisy laughter competed with the ocean waves breaking on the sandy shore. Eventually, the gentle breeze from the sea made us drowsy. We didn’t notice the calls of Itay, Juan’s father, until the last minute.

   

“Tabagwaaaang!” Itay called. It sounded like a sudden booming crack of thunder.

    

Juan reacted with surprise. He turned around, trying to find out where the voice came from, and saw behind him his aging father standing with his hands on his hip and with a look of displeasure on his face. “Dad, it’s you!” he uttered with eyebrows raised and a slight smile.

   

“Who did you expect, you drunkard!?” roared Itay. “You watch over our boat! The rising tide might carry it away.”

   

“Don’t worry Dad, I’ll watch it,” Juan said coyly as he scratched his head.

   

“And you two lazy drunk bums,” Itay said in a commanding voice as he pointed at us, “before the sun sets I want you to stop drinking.” He turned but gave us a sharp glance and a parting warning to Juan before he left. “No foolishness this time, Juan!” he said. I don’t know if Juan understood what his father said, but he looked at me and gave me a drunken smile.

    

We continued with our drinking. Once in a while Juan watched the boat of his father. But the boat was slowly being carried away by the tide, until it was a good distance from the seashore. Juan climbed halfway up the trunk of a nearby coconut tree, still watching the boat.

    

“Juan!” I called to his attention. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

   

“I know!” Juan answered. “I’m watching the boat.”

    

“I don’t think that’s what your dad meant.”

    

“He told me to watch the boat. So that’s what I’m doing.”

    

My jaw dropped in disbelief at Juan’s idiotic remark. “You’re already drunk Juan,” I said. “Let’s go swim after it while it’s still nearby.”

   

“No! I have to watch it, as ordered.”

    

I sighed and said, “You know what, Juan?”

    

“What?”

   

“You remind me of a guy who did the exact same thing that you are doing now.”

   

“If you’re referring to John Dokling, then I’m different,” Juan said. “I’m watching.”

   

“He was too,” I insisted.

    

“Yeah, he was watching,” Juan said. “But, he covered his eyes. He’s a moron.”

   

“That makes two of you.”

    

Juan ignored me. Instead he climbed to the very top of the coconut tree to get a good view of the boat being carried away by the rising tide. “Omigosh!” he suddenly exclaimed. “It snapped the boat in two.”

   

“Who snapped the boat?” I asked.

    

“A shark!” Juan answered.

    

“That’s Duling!” I exclaimed. “The huge cross-eyed shark.” I then hurriedly left Juan without waiting for him to come down from the coconut tree. As I ran toward our house I shouted, “Duling has been spotted! Duling is here!”

    

I reached our house and took from the wall two of my fifteen feet long spear guns. Each one was powered by four pairs of stretchable bands of black rubber. When released, the force of the spear is enough to penetrate an oversized unhusked coconut. At the tip of the spear was a moveable hook secured by a ring and at the other end it had a long rope. The other end of the rope was usually tied to a boat to make sure that a big fish quarry cannot escape.

    

As I came out of our house, I saw a horde of fishermen carrying their long spear guns and excitedly shouting like crazy. Though the sea of other nearby towns were shark infested, almost all the sharks in our area were hunted to extinction by these hungry fishermen. The only one left was the elusive cross-eyed Duling, fondly called “Moby Dick.”

   

I found Juan coming down from the coconut tree. I tossed him the other spear gun and we ran to one of the fishing boats. We pushed it to the sea, jumped in, and paddled furiously toward Duling. Other fishermen on their boats also converged toward Duling, who burst out of the water as if daring everyone to come and get him.

    

“Why you and these fishermen are obsessed with Duling?” Juan asked.

    

“Duling is food for these fishermen,” I replied. “Me, I just want to get my other spear stuck to its tail when I hunted it 25 years ago.”

    

Juan had a blank look on his face. He couldn’t believe what I just said. “I think you’re the one who’s drunk,” he remarked. “Why kill that thing for a worthless spear?”

    

I gave Juan a serious drunk look as I pointed to Duling. “That thing destroyed your father’s boat because of your foolishness,” I explained. “That shark is food for these hungry fishermen. And it took my prized spear.”

    

Our attention was suddenly diverted due to the commotion of the hunt. Duling was cornered. Being cross-eyed, it charged every which way. It smashed our boat and we were thrown overboard. Underwater, Duling bore down upon Juan, who was tangled in the rope of his spear gun. Juan panicked as I aimed my spear gun and fired. The spear hit Duling’s fin. I vigorously pulled the rope attached to the spear. This prevented Duling from snapping at Juan. It then violently veered, breaking the rope I was pulling. Duling swam away toward the deep blue sea as the spears of the fishermen criss-crossed the water, missing it.

    

Juan was glad because he was saved from his close encounter with the shark. He untangled himself from the rope of his spear, and we swam to the seashore. The excitement of the hunt sobered us up a bit. I sat on the shore a few feet from the water while looking at Duling, whose still visible fin was fast receding away. Meanwhile, Juan stretched himself out comfortably on the sand. And from afar we saw the fishermen discontinue their hunt.

    

“Good!” Juan exclaimed. “I’m happy that the cross-eyed shark escaped.”

    

“Yes, it had to escape,” I said, agreeing with Juan.

    

Juan turned to me with a quizzical look on his face. “I don’t get you,” he said. “I thought you and those fishermen wanted to catch it.”

    

“Yes, but that cross-eyed shark gives us reason and hope,” I explained. “It gives your father reason to keep building fishing boats and hope that you, Juan, are going to stop your foolishness. It also gives the fishermen reason to continue fishing and hope that someday they will catch Duling, the biggest shark of all.”

    

“How about you?” Juan queried.

    

I gave Juan a mischievous smile. “That cross-eyed shark gives me reason, after 25 years, to go back to the sea again and hunt it,” I answered. “That time I hope I’ll get my two spears stuck to it. So Duling has to escape, otherwise...”

    

 “Otherwise what?” Juan asked.

    

“Otherwise, everybody will know that after all these years, they are also cross-eyed like Duling.” Then I laughed.

    

Juan betrayed a blank stare. He didn’t understand. I elaborated, “Otherwise Juan, everybody will realize that there is just no reason and hope in everything. That is, everything is just foolishness.”

    

“So, if everything is foolishness, then there’s no need for me to change my foolish ways, right?” Juan asked with a leering look on his face.

    

“You see Juan, with or without Duling, you are unreasonable and hopeless,” I answered.

    

“You’re worse!” Juan remarked. “You’ve known this all along.”

    

“I know, but you and all the others don’t,” I said. “That’s the difference. Besides, I was drunk.”

    

“Me too!”

    

“But I drank to it and played along all this time, because I can’t do anything about it,” I said. “Anyway, knowing it or not, all of us are actually unreasonable and hopeless fools.” Then I roared into laughter, and so did Juan.

    

The fishermen, on their way home, passed by us. They laughed with us. But old Ago, the fool on the hill, was among the fishermen who made the loudest laugh of all. He also knew. Even before the fishermen were gone, Juan and I belted the cross-eyed shark drunken song.

    

“La la la, sing with us now all you unreasonable, hopeless, and foolish cross-eyed sharks of the world, la la la.”