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PARTISAN REVIEW
half out. I noticed that a greenish object darted for George's worm.
The pole leaned down, doubled over with a vibrating tautness.
"A fish! A strike!" George cried.
I dropped over further, hanging suspended. I screamed for
help. I noticed the flshing-pole for a second: it strained, with
George's will to capture and the fish's will to survive conducting
through the bamboo in an agitated fury.
"George!" I yelled, as he, blowing smoke, fought, looping down
to triumph.
The water was cold. I had on so much clothing and metal that
the water engulfed me and sealed me off before I could breathe;
I hit upon a slimy bottom, that also sought to bury me. I gasped.
My insides became wet, stifling the air in my lungs, snuffing it out.
I tried to battle against the death I drank and the death pressing from
above and the death seizing from below. A black monster gripped
me. I thought this was the real death; I twisted to release myself.
I heard cushioned sounds. My eyes swarmed. Then the sun shattered
upon me. I felt Bette's breasts pad my eyes. She handled me with
ease. She let me down onto the planked floor. She had an idiot
grin,
towering there with her legs on either side of my chest. I inqaled but
the air came in like wooden weights. I became terrified. George
jumped up and rolled into the boat. He pushed me over, and, amid
a pummeling at my back and hips, I heaved out water, and at last
I could breathe; and it seemed to me as though I were unable to
have enough air. Then, my thoughts, which had been swirling,
chasing each other, kicking and fighting, began to stabilize, began to
settle into a craving demand: I bellowed:
"I want Mamma! George, I want Mamma!"
"He's all right; if he wants
his
Mamma, there's nothing wrong
with him," George laughed to Bette; he corrected my position until
I sat where I had been originally. Despite the sunlight, I rattled with
cold from my dripping ears to my soaked shoes. But I could only
think of Mamma: she would make everything all right.
"Bring me home! I want Mamma. Mamma, Mamma, Mamma!
I want Mamma!"
. "Damn' right I'm getting rid of you," said George. "I'll never
take care of you again."
As
he spoke, the gathering momentum of
his words also went into the increasing swiftness of his rowing. "You're
more damn' trouble than you're worth, you are. I take you out here
to show you a good time, and all you give me are worries." I could
