The Men and the Cold

Filip is one of the best fishermen in the village, however, he comes to question the nature of his lifestyle after a tragedy affects one of his closest friends.

There was only one road that led into the village, and once a month, a truck would deliver a shipment of supplies. In the winter time, the snow would bury the road and the shipment would be delivered by boat, which always took longer. When the snow melted in the summer time, the road was recovered, and so too were the brown trees and yellow grass that stretched up the hill. The days were so much longer in the summer, and the ocean was safer for fishing. But the sky remained a sturdy silver.

Filip cared not for the seasons. It was something he couldn’t control, and he respected that. He was a good fisherman, but he never stressed about how much fish he caught. If it was too dangerous to go out on the water, he would stay home and spend the day with his wife, Elsa. They’d play cards while the other fishermen battled in the wind and the rain. On the weekends, if it wasn’t raining, Filip and Elsa would walk up the hill. They would sit on top of it and look down on the village. Sometimes, they would stay up there too long and Elsa would cling to Filip’s arm while they walked down in the cold dark. Sometimes, if they were lucky, the moonlight would find a gap in the clouds and shine down on the hill.

*

Filip was one of the only fishermen who didn’t have any children. There was only one thing more important than fish in the village: children. Everyone was scared about the falling population, so having children became the village’s top priority. Many of the older fishermen took their sons to go fishing with them with the hope that they’d take their place one day, just like Filip’s father had done. But Filip fished alone for most of his life.

“Why don’t you have a boy, Filip? If you’re lucky, he will grow up to be half the fisherman you are!” the men used to tell him. Filip always replied with just a dry smirk.

Filip was close to only a few people, and Per was one of them. Their fathers fished together, so Filip and Per became childhood friends and they grew up together. When Per was 9 and Filip was 10, they both started fishing with their fathers. Every time they returned to dock after a day of fishing, they’d help each other unload the boats. And then they would help their fathers dry and salt the cod so their mothers could make lutefisk the next day. They loved fishing. Filip’s only sibling was a younger brother, called Markus. He hated fishing. His father could never understand it.

As they reached adulthood, Per worked on building his own family with a girl called Mia who worked at the store. Her hair was long and blond, but always messy because of the wind; she never tied it up or wore a hat. Mia was much younger than Per, but it didn’t matter. Her father, a teacher in the school, liked Per very much. And of course, Filip married Elsa. Her hair was short and neat.

Per’s first son was called Georg and his fate was decided a decade before he was born.

“You know, when I have a son, I want him to fish with me” Per said to Filip one day while they were on the boat.

“I know, Per” said Filip.

“So we won’t fish together Filip” said Per.

“Maybe we can be a three-man.” said Filip as he readied the nets.

“Boat’s too small” said Per.

Filip dropped the nets in the water. ‘We could just get a bigger boat’ he thought to himself.

“Alright” Filip said.

And so Georg fished with Per when he was old enough and Filip fished alone. The older Georg grew, the less time Filip and Per would spend together. But this didn’t bother Filip, for he felt they were still close. He could sense it in the little things, like the welcoming wrap of an arm around an unturned back, the smiling reception of a compliment, or the short (but loud) laughs that follow a whimsical joke, such as one about the day Filip started to roll the bottoms of his trousers.

*

It was Georg’s first winter fishing alone. Per had been diagnosed with stomach cancer in the summer; his fishing days were over. Filip offered to fish with Georg, but Per said he was old enough to do it himself. Mia protested against the idea and Filip didn’t, but he wished he did.

Georg found the first few weeks of winter easy; he returned with plenty of fish before it got too dark and impressed many of the older fishermen, including Filip. Georg had a great determination, which he learned from his father. But unlike Per, his temperament was calm. His face was smooth and handsome, untouched by the wind; yet it possessed a strange quality of prudence and wisdom.
But one day, Georg never returned. Filip was taking his boots off outside his when he saw Filip walking�"struggling�"-towards him.

“Maybe you should slow down now, what d’ya say?” Filip shouted. But Per only began to walk faster.

“Fil!” he shouted while he walked.”

“Fil. I need you, Fil. I don’t know who else to go to. Georg is missing, Fil” Per said.

“He is missing?”

“Missing.” There was a pause. “Well get you’re boots on then” demanded Per.

Without asking, Filip put on his boots and followed Per to the dock. They remained silent until they reached Filip’s boat at the dock, torches in hands, at which point Per finally explained.

“He was meant to be back a half hour ago, but he’s not, Fil. He always gets back on time.”

“He’ll be back” said Filip.

Per didn’t reply, but he just stared at Filip; the coastal wind forced him to squint, obscuring his solemn brown eyes. He brushed past Filip’s shoulder and made a lousy attempt to climb on the boat.

Filip finally spoke. “I will go alone. You are too sick to come.”

He then helped Per get on the boat.

*

Filip’s boat sat on the water in the dark. He pulled out a crumpled pouch of tobacco from the inside pocket of his coat and rolled a cigarette. Lighting it, he looked behind him and saw the lights from the houses in the village, which appeared as golden flecks on the black horizon. Ahead of him was an empty ocean and a night sky laden with clouds. He watched the surface of the water ripple against the hull of his boat.

“It’s been three hours, Per. You are too sick to be out here.”

“I know, I know” said Per. “Give me your cigarette.” Filip sat down next to him in the middle of the boat and gave him his cigarette.

“Do you remember the time Markus ran away from home?” Per asked.

“Which time?”

“Oh maybe the fourth time, I guess” Per said.

“You are too sick to be in this cold air. Let me take you home” Filip said as he stood up.

“He ran all the way to the other side of the hill, do you remember?”

Filip remembered. He remembered all those months father spent trying to get Markus to fish with him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Markus would get on the boat, but he would never fish. Filip remembered all the cold mornings he waited outside while father tried to get a malingering Markus out of his bed. Filip remembered loading the boat while his sulking brother stood on the dock, looking down at his shoes. And Filip remembered best all the times Markus ran away from home. The first two or three times, he sprinted half way up the hill with no shoes before his tired legs could go no further. He’d sit on the hill, wearing only an undershirt and pyjama pants, while he waited for father to carry him home. One time, the fourth time, he made it all the way to the other side of the hill, where the snowy ground was flat and had no end, like the ocean. Father refused to get him.

“He can freeze out there. I don’t care” he said. So Filip put his coat on and walked all the way up and over the hill with a blanket and a pair of shoes in his hands. When he reached the other side he saw Markus standing, just staring at the white field. He didn’t move until Filip wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

“…Yeah, I remember, Per.” Filip looked over at Per who was smoking the cigarette he gave him while leaning back on one elbow, nearly flat on his back.

“We need to get you home. Your wife will be worried” Filip said as he turned the boat around and headed towards those flecks of light on the skyline.