Shark Nets

It was a dream... it's now a story

According to Wikipedia, a shark net is a submerged net that is placed around beaches to reduce shark attacks on swimmers and fishermen. Many countries install shark nets at the mouth of a river, as some locals bathe and even do their washing in the flowing waters. Specialist contractors carry out shark meshing operations to ensure the safety of locals, though shark nets do not offer complete protection but work on the principle of "fewer sharks, fewer attacks".

 

In a local village in South Africa, I am part of a team of 8 specialists that operate in and around Umgeni. Since I was appointed, 3 years ago, we have only had 3 shark attacks in the Umgeni River where I am stationed. Tourists often tell tales of shark attacks they heard of, in the Zambezi River and even in Australian rivers, which reinforces my enthusiasm to do my duty perfectly faultless, not to mention I get to go home, after a hard day’s work, to my prized possession.

 

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“I’m moving to Durbs guys.”  These words were not acceptable to the band. They did not understand my yearning for change. How could they? I was front man and the instigator of adventures of lust, drink-till-you-drop parties and the hangover cure maestro with my fruity cocktails.

 

I chose to stand back and observe their response. I felt completely refreshed at my steadfast choice. No fear in cutting the chords, ‘scuse the pun, no wavering thought or even regret.

 

Escaping the Rock & Roll lifestyle in Joburg, I moved to Umgeni for a change of scenery, as well as my filthy habits I formed while losing myself in a pseudonym life on and off the local stages of South Africa. I was a rock star alright! My life reeked of it, my complexion portrayed it and my reputation never forgave it! However, I was sure to start my clean slate in this upside-down small town, without that status.

 

Alas! Meet Umgeni’s hottest blond, Lisa. Tattooed from head to toe, petite with a fiery vixen attitude and an a*s that could put Beyonce to shame!

 

I found myself stalking her: from late nights in the Umgeni Bar to late mornings in the local chippie. She worked as a waitress in her dad’s fish and chip shop, often managing the place by giving meals away for free, out of spite towards her disrespected fisherman father, or placing the “back in 15 minutes” sign on the door and banging boys in the back kitchen. I was sure she was trouble, though it didn’t take too long to wake up and find her in bed next to me, with make-up smeared and lipstick stains on her pillow.

 

Life was back to normal. Sigh.

 

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“You alright love?”

She sounded so slang when she said that. I’m not sure whether it’s because she lived in the UK and tried to sound like a Brit, or if in fact she was common. She made me think of a girl from the 80’s, with big earrings, wild hair, bright lipstick and tight leathers, chewing on old gum. But one thing was for sure, she really knew how to feed my flesh: ready and eager whenever I needed it. I sometimes comforted myself with the thought that I was the only man she was with, though in the back of my mind I knew she was not faithful. But, whatever.

 

“Yeah, I’m good. I need some air”.

I slipped out quickly, in case she wanted to relay a response or request an explanation, and I stood on the porch. My porch overlooked the Umgeni River. I loved living there, it was conveniently opposite the Umgeni Shark Net Station, but it also brought about a bit of the peace my soul was yearning for.

 

I could see straight into Mr Dean’s river boat. Mr Dean is an old man, I’m not sure how old, but he’s been part of the Shark Net Station “since before your mother wore nappies” he would say.

 

Some nights I would join Mr Dean when he was on the duty roster. I found myself captivated by his old war stories and humorous tales of his wife and children. They visit him often, though his wife passed away over 10 years ago.

 

I longed for a similar love story to engulf me, though for fear of sounding too vulnerable I would just nod and say “She seemed like the perfect partner”.

 

“Oh but she was. There were days when the war got to me and out of the blue she would appear wearing a pair of my fishing trousers and boots, with an oversized checkered shirt and a hook-tagged fishing hat. Haha.. Oh that was funny. Silently, she knew. She knew I had my scars.

She loved to laugh you know. Oh my Alice, she laughed so much that her eyes would light up and she would push that laughter from out of her stomach and everyone would stop to see.

When we had our arguments, she would be the first to apologise even when she wasn’t wrong.  Oh she hated going to bed upset. She was a humble woman and kind to whoever she met... she really loved from her soul.”

 

Mr Dean looked away, into the dark night and I silently eased the lump in my throat before attempting another word that might offer comfort or change the subject altogether.

 

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I was tired, tired of the arguments and the constant pulling apart of my “greener pastures” escape. Guilt had crept back into me. That longing and urge for change kept surfacing, though I kept plunging it down, yet again, with booze, sex and regret.

 

Lisa knew how to wind me up. I knew she was trouble and I jumped right in anyway. Night after night, argument after argument, it all ended up in another escape plan. Should I run again? Should I kick her out? I don’t want to be seen as the b*****d or the coward. Though, either way, I will be the bad man in this story. But screw it; I have to do something about this deep, dark and twisted situation.

 

Perhaps a prayer or a wish will help? It will come to me.

 

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I was lying in the dark with the sheet covering my torso and Lisa lying leaned over my chest. The moon illuminated her pretty face, though smudged with mascara and lipstick.

 

I noticed that I started becoming more aware of how she irritates me: her ashtray breath, her drunken eyes and her hooker kind of way in bed.  In my mind I had not pictured my new life this way.

 

“You don’t love me, do you Thomas?”

“Huh?” I had no idea where that came from.

“You don’t love me, say it. I know it’s true. You want that soul mate bullshit, with a pretty ‘straight and narrow’ kinda girl.” She lit another cigarette.

 

“Face it babe, I’m your wakeup call! You are just a loser, using another loser. And this is how we’ll spend our lives.”

She lay back down, leaning on my chest again and exhaled the smoke in my face.

 

I sighed and turned my head towards the door.

 

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Lisa was watching her too and grunted how pathetic she looked in her floral dress and long dark curls: “As if she was in fashion a show...”

Steering the river boat towards the river mouth, a strange looking woman cuddled a warm cup of tea that was given to her by Mr Dean. I wasn’t sure if my mind had her pictured as an elf-looking woman or whether she just looked odd. Nonetheless, I assumed she was either a new recruit to our team or family of Mr Dean (she had to be, considering she was wearing a dress and not the team uniform).

 

At dawn, whoever is on the roster needs to secure the shark nets and scope the parameter for any issues. Mr Dean had added my name to the morning roster, as he decided I needed further training in case he had to be stationed elsewhere.

 

I met Mr Dean and the mysterious woman at the river mouth. There I was introduced to Charlie.

 

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Of Portuguese decent, her family moved to South Africa in the late 50’s, her family settled in a humble town in Joburg, named Benoni.

Her Father passed away when she was 6. He had liver cancer. Her mother, with the help of their family, made sure they had sufficient resources and their upbringing seemed to be easy.

 

Confident but reserved, tall with a yellowish skin tone, Charlie was the epitome of a Portuguese princess. Her luscious long black hair was so thick that when she braided it into a ponytail, she needed 3 elastic bands to keep it together.

 

She did well at school, though was not very popular.

 

She likes cats, coffee and chocolate. She enjoys running, eating healthy and writes letters to her family overseas.

 

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On the way back from the river mouth, Charlie pointed out towards the sunrise, but her voice just began to fade in my ears...

 

I felt like I lost myself for a moment, when sudden humour and delight came over me.

 

I found a floating piece of seaweed that looked a bit like a monkey.

 

“Monkey on your back” I mumbled and it humoured me to the extent of picking it up from the river bed as we glided between the edge and Mr Dean’s boat...

 

 Instinctively I placed it on the back of Charlie’s head and neck... 

She shrieked at the top of her lungs while her body paused in voluntary paralyses... Yelling at me to take it off... begging: “What is it?”

Her yelling turned into humorous bouts of laughter and urges to shriek or cry. 

I pulled it from her hair.

 

As she turned around, my entire life stood still:

In slow motion her mouth formed the words “I’m gonna slap your chops” and faded into a deep laughter that to me seemed genuinely from her belly.

 

I could see the goosebumps slowly forming on her bronze skin as she cringed...

 

She held out her hands and her fingers were wide apart as she tried to shake off the thought of it still being on her...

 

Her nails were perfectly shaped and white...

 

Her fun smile and laughter were music to my ears...

 

I looked up at her wide witty brown eyes and knew she was the one. 

 

And so did Lisa: she stood staring hopeless and speechless from my river house porch.

 

 

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

Reviews

[zuleka]

Loved this short story. I need more!

[Alani]

Thank you Zuleka xxx
I'm glad you liked it. More to come! :)