No Resting on the Sabbath

Rob drives Alex and i over to Jasmine's house to paint it. For the next six hours, I endure Alex's eccentricity and the biting cold. Rob gets me to go out to carry the boards but it's frickin' pissing down and now im soaked and teeth-chattering, head-poundingly missing warmer weather. There's a broken record player and for a while, Alex is normal and Rob eases up as the two boys toy at it for a while trying to make it work again. It's a good thing they arent going to throw it away like most silly people would.




im in my tradesman get-up, overalls and boots and all.

Dinner tonight is kobbe - raw beef in olive oil - and i dont really eat much. David invites me to go eel fishing at the Jellibrand River with Alex, and I think, why not? Worms are the first order of business and we go around pouring detergent into the soil to force the big phat worms out. David dresses me up in gum boots and five layers of clothing to ensure my coherence, considering that it's dark, freezing cold, pissing down still. Handreels and rods are set up while Alex goes to pluck apples and nectarines. We sit in the twilight munching on fruits waiting for anything to bite but nothing does. So we start packing up but suddenly - suddenly! - something starts pulling on all our lines. in quick succession we're pulling an eel each and screaming at each other like stupid fucktards. the knife! bucket! flashlight! grab the frickin' eel! chop the head! hold it down! all this in a slight rush of adrenaline to the head and everyone is buzzing and alert all of a sudden.

In the distance we see a light, and for a moment David thinks it's a killer out to get us. Which is a very chilling thought. More so than the cold and wet. Because I wouldnt be able to see where the killer is and where to run to, but never mind. We pack up and go, piling into the front seats. Cute 13-year-old David is sitting on my lap in my arms and im thinking, man oh man, i hope i live to tell this tale. back home, the decapitated eels are still swimming and as we cover them in salt to remove the slime they start to struggle. the salt on the wound prolly hurts like hell to the body. in my left hand is the body and in my right is the knife that i use to plunge into the anus of the eel and try to make a clean swipe towards the neck, gutting it. the hurting eels gives it all its got even after i've stuck my finger into its intestines and pulled it all out. so there, poor struggling, gutless, headless, sliced open eel still swimming. i hope i dont die like you. and i hope you taste good when vivien fries you tomorrow.