{"id":2314,"date":"2018-11-04T08:44:38","date_gmt":"2018-11-04T16:44:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/?p=2314"},"modified":"2018-11-07T08:42:17","modified_gmt":"2018-11-07T16:42:17","slug":"bandit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/?p=2314","title":{"rendered":"Bandit"},"content":{"rendered":"

by Erik Dolson<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"Lars was leaning on the rail at the top of the ramp, gazing out at the water below. Bandit, a small and alert Australian Shepherd lay at his feet watching another dog approach from the parking lot above, a larger dog at the end of a leash held by a woman carrying groceries.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look like you\u2019re trying to decide something,\u201d said a man dressed all in black who came from the direction of town, a backpack on his shoulders. The man with the pack bent down and rubbed Bandit\u2019s ears.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi, Bandit,\u201d he said. The dog stood at mention of his name by this man he had seemingly met before, but didn\u2019t take his eyes off the other dog that was sniffing rocks where dogs peed on their way to and from boats packed side by side in their berths.<\/p>\n

\u201cWondering if I should go to Alaska,\u201d said Lars, his face rudy and unshaven, his hair thick, reddish and gray, the beard long and sparse. \u201cGet me some kings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s been a bad year for king salmon,\u201d said the man dressed in black. \u201cEven the Orca can\u2019t find them.\u201d The huge mammals that were totem for the western edge of Canada and the Pacific Northwest were starving. Nobody knew where the king salmon had gone, whether the absence was caused by dams, over fishing, global warming, foreign fleets depleting the resource far out at sea. Many theories, few answers.\u00a0The story of a female that had carried her dead calf for 17 days made world wide news.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, it\u2019s been a bad one. The prices for a permit are down to half what they were just a couple of years ago. Lot of men have given up. Maybe I can get one cheap,\u201d said Lars.<\/p>\n

He moved his feet without standing or shifting his considerable weight from the rail. His right foot came forward to carry more of the load, his left foot went back to take some off. He switched hands, too. His hands were huge, reddish too and scarred, but looking as if they could grab and tie without effort the three-inch hawsers that held ferries in place at the landing.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a little late in the season,\u201d said the man with the backpack.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, yeah, not now. But later. I need to eat some kings. Get healthy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not healthy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas until six months ago. Felt great. Bought that boat,\u201d Lars pointed by raising his chin toward a small troller tied to a dock where the bull rail was painted yellow, signifying that was not a place to tie up.<\/p>\n

The dog with woman with groceries was about even with where the two men stood. Not making a sound, Bandit darted out toward the other dog but stopped after about two feet, well before the end of his own tether. The larger dog, startled, spun, barking with fear and aggression. He lunged, nearly pulling his owner down, but she retained both dog and grocery bag.<\/p>\n

The woman, who had not seen Bandit\u2019s feint, yanked hard at her dog\u2019s leash, scolded him harshly and hauled him down the dock. Bandit, mission complete, had already turned to lie again at Lars\u2019s feet before they\u2019d taken five steps.<\/p>\n

The man with the backpack laughed loudly. \u201cBandit, you set him up! You were just yankin\u2019 that dog around!\u201d he said to the Australian Shepherd, who looked for all the world like he was pleased as could be with his prank.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what happened six months ago?\u201d the man asked Lars.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoctors said I had two strokes. And cancer. They tell me there\u2019s not much they can do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAw, Lars. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just need to eat some kings, not all the garbage they sell in packages up at the store.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two men looked out over the harbor as a green and white ferry came in the harbor entrance, three decks high, the bottom lined with cars and motor homes and trucks. Bandit was looking the other way, as if for another victim.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have family?\u201d asked the man with a pack.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot really,\u201d said Lars.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo kids?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGot a son. Lives in New York. He prefers city life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you told him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout the cancer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. He wouldn\u2019t want to come back here. He was raised here, but he likes the city. He works in a restaurant, I don\u2019t know. Wants to be a writer. He\u2019s living with some woman whose uncle or something is into the publishing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t think he\u2019d want to know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Lars, dismissing that conversation. Minutes of silence followed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, before they told me about all this, the cancer and all, I felt great. Now they keep saying that I can\u2019t do this and I can\u2019t do that and I feel awful all the time, barely make it up the ramp some days. If they wouldn\u2019t just say the same thing over and over again, I could get well maybe, and if I had something decent to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there a food share in town? Something from the government or the churches?\u201d the man asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yeah, there is, for those folks who need it. I\u2019m not so good at asking for a hand out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you need it just for a while, to get you by.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need much,\u201d said Lars. \u201cNot like I\u2019m starving.\u201d At that he leaned back a bit and nodded at his sizable belly pushing out beneath a faded and not too clean sweater. On top of that he wore a black quilted vest that would supply some warmth without binding the arms of a working man. He wore sweatpants, a concession to the difficulty he was having bending and moving around. On his feet, worn out work boots of high quality that he\u2019d had as long as he could remember and would probably last forever.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have any bills. I just need some good food. If I could get some kings, I think I\u2019d get better. I lived on a farm once, on a creek not far from here. Kings would come up that creek and I could almost pick\u2019em up with my hands. I didn\u2019t take more than I needed, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lars seemed to be making his case to the God of Salmon that since he hadn\u2019t taken more than his share, perhaps a little could be returned now in his time of need.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow old are you,\u201d asked the man dressed in black with a backpack and silver hair who wasn\u2019t wearing a coat despite the chill air, and it looked like he\u2019d just finished a run.<\/p>\n

\u201cSixty-five,\u201d said Lars, looking the man in the eye as if waiting for him to say that Lars looked pretty good for a man that age. He didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou aren\u2019t leaving for Alaska in November,\u201d said the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. Well I could, head up the inside.\u201d Inside is behind islands that guard the North American continent from the often violent northern Pacific sending storms that build all the way from Asia. Starting at Vancouver Island, one can get deep into Alaska with only a couple of stretches exposed to the open ocean.<\/p>\n

One can wait for benign winds and water to cross those. But the bays and passages and channels are still lethal if things go wrong. Survival longer than five minutes is unlikely in the cold water.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could,\u201d said the man, again bending down to rub Bandit behind the ears. The dog put his nose to the man\u2019s nose and held it there, as if they were sharing whispers. The black of Bandit\u2019s long healthy coat was the same black as the man\u2019s sleeve; it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, there might be a way,\u201d said the man, standing.<\/p>\n

\u201cWay for what?\u201d asked Lars, settled back on the rail as if he were merging with the wood.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you need? Full tank of fuel, provisions for six months?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot even six,\u201d said Lars. \u201cI\u2019d catch kings to eat, crab and bottom fish, too if I couldn\u2019t catch kings. I wouldn\u2019t fish every day if I didn\u2019t need to, but could if I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. If you needed to,\u201d said the man. \u201cWe could set that up, you could leave in a few days. Write up what you need, I\u2019ll bring it to the boat. We\u2019ll fill your tanks with fuel, water. You can take off as soon as you want.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lars didn\u2019t say anything, but he looked at the man who now had the backpack in his right hand, and who looked back and held Lars\u2019 gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d Lars asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a catch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere always is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou leave Bandit with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lars looked down at the dog at his feet. The dog looked back at him, into him, aware of his man\u2019s deep distress though not a word had been said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy that? You could get your own dog for a lot less.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes I could, Lars. But it\u2019s not about just having a dog, or any dog.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it then?\u201d His voice was quicker and louder than it had been at any point in the conversation, motivated either by opportunity or fear it was impossible to say.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s because I don\u2019t think you\u2019ll make it, Lars. I think you\u2019ll die out there somewhere, at night on the rocks in a storm, in your bed at anchor in some cove, slipping on some slick, bird shit covered dock in a nothing town on some forgotten shore. I don\u2019t know. But I don\u2019t think you\u2019ll make it, and I don\u2019t want Bandit to die that way too, or trapped while your body rots and soaks into your blankets.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a cold bastard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I am. It\u2019s what I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is that, exactly?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe must all move forward, Lars, but it\u2019s easy to get stuck. I unstick people, help them make decisions or decide for them if they can\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou work for the state?\u201d Lars asked, which caused the man to explode with laughter. He laughed so hard he couldn\u2019t speak for a long time.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to share that one with friends,\u201d was all he said when finished.<\/p>\n

Lars then gathered himself and stood, pushed himself up with his hands and arms, until his back was straight for the first time. At full height he stood easily a head and a half above the man with a backpack who was dressed in black. Lars looked every inch the son of the norsemen from whom he descended, a Viking, in rags but proud, blue eyes alive.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I raised him. We\u2019re together now, and will be until we can\u2019t be.\u201d Lars bent down and gently put his huge hand, it looked like it could wrap all the way around, on Bandit’s head. The dog stood immediately, knowing they were off together to wherever their journey might lead.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s next, Lars?\u201d asked the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to get something to eat. Then I think I’ll call my son.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lars slowly made his way down the ramp, toward the small troller tied where it shouldn\u2019t be at the dock. He was headed home. The man in black carrying a backpack smiled as Bandit frequently paused, waiting for Lars to take each difficult step.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by Erik Dolson<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"Lars was leaning on the rail at the top of the ramp, gazing out at the water below. Bandit, a small and alert Australian Shepherd lay at his feet watching another dog approach from the parking lot above, a larger dog at the end of a leash held by a woman carrying groceries.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look like \u2026 Read more\u2026 → <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[517,516,511,518,514,515,513,237,512,510],"class_list":["post-2314","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-angels","tag-australian-shepherd","tag-cancer","tag-devils","tag-dog","tag-dog-love","tag-fishermen","tag-loneliness","tag-old-age","tag-port-vicente"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s3mcOb-bandit","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2314","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2314"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2314\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2342,"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2314\/revisions\/2342"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2314"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2314"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/erikdolson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2314"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}