by Peter Markus
Call me Bob.
Hey, Bob, I want to one day call out to Bob.
Bob, I am a fish.
I am a fish, Bob.
Fish me!
Fish me up.
But call out to Bob, like this, this, I never do.
Let Bob be, I believe.
Let Bob fish in peace.
Call me Bob too.
I will fish too.
I will follow Bob’s boat around the river as long as Bob’s boat with Bob on it is out on the river fishing.
I will fish and fish these dirty river waters that Bob has already fished.
I will fish the waters of the river that Bob has already fished just in case the fish that Bob is fishing for isn’t, by Bob, fished up out of the river and then fished up into Bob’s boat.
If I do fish this fish up and out of the river, I will hold this fish up and out for Bob to see.
Here, Bob, I will say.
This fish, Bob.
Bob, it’s yours.
This fish has your name on it, Bob.
Bob, this fish.
I have fished it up for you.
And what will Bob do once I give him back this fish?
Will Bob kiss this fish?
Will Bob eat it, this fish?
This fish, will Bob cut off the head of this fish?
No, no, no to all three of these.
Bob, if I know Bob, Bob will throw this fish back.
Bob will give this fish back to the river.
And the river, the river will kiss Bob back.
Bob, when Bob is thirsty for water, Bob dips his fishing hands into the river and, like this, Bob lifts the river up to his puckered-up lips.
Like this, Bob drinks.
Or, sometimes, Bob will lower his lips down to where the river is and drink the river’s water like this, without his hands, just like a fish.
Other people other than Bob, if these other people were to drink the river’s water, like this, like Bob, these other people other than Bob, they would likely get sick.
But not Bob.
When Bob drinks the river’s water, when he is done drinking it, Bob licks his lips.
Like a fish would lick.
If a fish could.
Lick.
Picture this.
All fish have mouths.
Some fish have teeth.
Some of these fish with teeth sometimes have teeth that you can’t see.
But they are there, these teeth that you sometimes can’t see.
Give me your hand.
You can feel them, these teeth.
With your fingers, you can.
Stick your thumb into these fishes’ mouths.
That sandpaper feeling that you feel—can you feel it?—this is these fishes’ teeth.
Those other fishes with teeth that you can see, these fish that have teeth you don’t need fingers to feel, do not stick your fingers or thumbs into these fishes’ mouths.
Fish are not dogs.
Fish don’t bark before they bite.
Fish just bite.
Fish eat.
Fish eat other fish.
Sometimes fish eat other things that these fish think are fish.
Like fingers and thumbs.
There are fish who live in this river with mouths and teeth and bites that are big enough to bite off your thumbs.
There is a man who lives in this dirty river town.
This man is a man who fishes the river.
But his name isn’t Bob.
His name is Tom.
There are some folks in town who sometimes call this Tom by Tom’s other name.
They call him Thumb.
Tom Thumb.
Thumb is not his real last name.
It is not the name that his father gave him.
The name that his father gave him is Trumbull.
Tom Trumbull.
When we in our town call out to this Tom, Tom looks up, Tom looks over, Tom raises his right hand to say, to us who are doing the calling, Hey, hello, how you doing?
There is something you should know about this Tom’s right hand.
It is missing a finger.
No, it is missing its thumb.
A fish took Tom’s thumb.
This fish bit Tom’s thumb off.
Tom stuck his thumb into this fish’s mouth.
To lift this fish up out of the river.
To take out the hook that was hooked inside this fish’s mouth.
Tom did not see, he did not realize, that this fish had teeth that you can see.
When Tom stuck his thumb into this fish’s mouth, to unhook this hook, this fish bit down hard.
When this fish bit down hard against Tom’s thumb, Tom let go of this fish.
This fish, it swam away.
Into the river.
This fish, it was a fish that got away.
This fish, it took Tom’s thumb with it in its mouth when it swam away into the river.
Tom raised up his thumb’s bloody stump.
Come back with my thumb!
You dirty rotten fish!
Tom says he actually said this.
As if this fish had ears for it to hear.
I sometimes wonder.
How do fish hear?
And this I wonder too:
What would a fish do with a thumb?
Fish don’t have hands.
Fish have fins.
Fish have lips.
Some fish have teeth.
I’ve said this.
This fish had teeth that Tom did not see.
Whenever I see Tom fishing the river, I can’t help but think of that fish that took off with Tom’s thumb.
How’s the fishing? I sometimes say to Tom.
Tom raises his right hand.
Tom doesn’t have to say anything else but this.
When Tom raises his right hand, like this, what he is saying is that he is still out on the river fishing for this fish.
Tom is like Bob.
Bob and Tom.
Tom and Bob.
Two men.
Two boats.
One river.
Two men out on the same river in two different boats.
Two men out on the same river fishing for two different fish.
The fish that bit off Tom’s thumb, this fish was a bass.
Bass are sometimes called smallmouth bass or largemouth bass.
The bass that bit off Tom’s thumb, this fish was a big-mouthed bass.
Largemouth bass have mouths that are sometimes big enough to stick a fist into these fishes’ open mouths.
Even though bass have mouths big enough to fit a fishingman’s fist inside it, bass do not have teeth.
But the big-mouthed bass that bit off Tom’s thumb and then disappeared into the river with it, this bass wasn’t like any other bass.
This bass, it had teeth on the inside of its mouth.
It bit on a bass-bait, Tom once told us.
It hit like a bass hits, Tom also explained.
But when Tom fought and brought this fish in close to his boat and when he reached down to it, when this Tom reached down with his right hand and stuck his thumb into this fish’s mouth, in order to lift this fish up and into his boat, this is when Tom noticed that this fish—this bass—it had the body of a fish that is called a pike.
A pike is a fish known for the size and for the sharpness of its teeth.
Pike have teeth that even a man born blind would be able to see.
By the time Tom noticed that this bass had teeth like a pike, that this bass actually had the body of a pike—long and thin and spotted—it was too late.
Tom had already stuck his thumb into the mouth of this fish.
hen Tom lifted this fish up out of the river, that’s when this fish bit down hard and then took off, back into the river, with Tom’s thumb dangling like a lure from its mouth.
That’s when Tom raised his right hand and called out to this fis
h, Come back here with my thumb!
This fish, it didn’t listen.
This fish, like Bob and his fish, Tom’s been fishing for this fish ever since.
This fish’s mother must have been a bass.
This fish’s father, it must have been a pike.
Or maybe this.
Maybe this fish’s mother was a pike and maybe this fish’s father was a bass.
It’s impossible to know for sure which was which.
hich fish was which.
One thing, though, for sure, is this:
This fish had inside its big-mouthed mouth teeth that were big, teeth that were sharp and sharp enough for this fish to bite off a thumb from the rest of the fingers.
Just ask Tom.
Once Tom tells you this story of the fish that took off his right thumb, Tom will also tell you this.
My name is Tom.
Tom Trumbull.
When this Tom tells you this, he will hold out to you his right hand for you to shake it.
Don’t be afraid.
Shake it.
Because when you do, when you take into your hand Tom’s thumbless right hand, that’s when Tom will tell you this.
It was a fish.
A fish, I say.
It was a fish, Tom will tell you.
And when Tom tells you this, Tom will raise up this hand of his right along with yours.
It was a fish that gave me this.
Tom will say, It was a fish that gave me my name.
Call me Tom, Tom will then tell you to say.
Tom Thumb Trumbull, he will say.
Or just plain old Thumb for short.
That fish that Bob is fishing for, Bob can’t say for certain what kind of a fish this fish is.
Is it a walleye?
A pike?
Is this fish of Bob’s a bigmouth bass, a fish that is sometimes called a bucketmouth?
Or maybe a catfish?
A dogfish?
A carp?
Or maybe a muskie, which is also a kind of a pike?
Or how about a steelhead?
A steelhead is a kind of a trout.
Or a sturgeon?
Sturgeons are bottomfeeders.
Like catfish are and dogfish are and carp.
Sturgeon can live to be over a hundred years old.
What if this fish that Bob is fishing for lives to outlive Bob?
What if Bob dies before Bob fishes this fish up and out of the river?
Then what?
What would we do without Bob?
When I say we I mean this: me and you and the river and the fish.
Us.
We need Bob.
We need Bob just like Bob needs to be fishing for this fish.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter what kind of a fish this fish is that Bob is fishing for.
A fish is a fish.
Is a fish.
If a fish is a fish is a fish, why is it that so many fish are called by so many different names?
Rock bass and walleye, crappie and trout.
Catfish and dogfish, white bass and carp.
Muskie, sturgeon, steelhead, pike.
Largemouth and smallmouth, suckers and browns.
Sheepshead, sunfish, bluegill, shad.
What kind of a fish is the fish that Bob is fishing for?
Only Bob knows what kind of a fish this fish is.
When Bob fishes this fish up out of the river and up into his boat, Bob will know that this fish is his.
That this fish is Bob’s fish.
Bob’s fish is—there is no other way to say this—Bob’s fish.
Bob’s fish is its own kind of a fish.
It is a bobfish.
When Bob fishes this fish up into his boat, we can add bobfish to our list of fish names.
Wait.
I almost forgot.
I forgot to mention perch.
A perch is a kind of a fish that it too belongs on our fish list of fish names.
It is, in my eyes, perch, the best eating of all of the fish that you can catch.
Trust me on this.
Batter the perch up in flour.
Fry the perch up in butter.
The littler the perch is, the better-tasting the perch.
You can never eat too much perch.
Eat perch every day.
Until you become a fish.
Bob once had a dog that Bob called Dog.
Bob never bothered to give this dog a name other than plain old Dog.
Dog.
Bob and his dog, Dog.
Why give a dog a name, was what Bob figured, when all a dog really wants is a bone.
Bob gave Dog lots of bones.
Bob did not give Dog the bones of chickens or pigs or cows.
Bob gave Dog the bones of fish.
Bob would toss these fish bones out into the river and tell Dog to go fetch.
Dog, Bob would say. Go fish.
Dog would take to that dirty river water like Dog was half-part dog and half-part fish.
Sometimes, the bones of the fish that Bob would throw out into the river, at times these bones would, from Dog, swim down the river away.
One time Dog kept on swimming after those swimming away from him fish bones and Dog never made it back to Bob’s boat.
Bob watched Dog swim away, just like a fish, and not once did Bob make a sound with his mouth for Dog to come swimming back.
Bob knew that Dog knew what Dog wanted.
Dog kept going.
Dog kept on after those bones.
Bob is like Dog.
Like Dog, Bob keeps on going.
Bob keeps on fishing for his fish.
I sometimes wonder how far will Bob go.
Will Bob do like Dog did that day?
Will Bob, one night, go out fishing for his fish and then, from the river, not come fishing back?
It’s not that Bob wants to see this fish of his that he is fishing for dead.
It’s not, for Bob, about Bob killing this fish.
What Bob wants, what keeps Bob fishing for this fish, is for Bob to see this fish alive.
What Bob wants is to feel the life of this fish, the fight of this fish, tugging on the end of his line.
To feel the pull of this fish.
To feel the pull of this fish pulling at Bob like this fish is trying to pull Bob home.
Down to the bottom of this river.
To fish this fish out of the river and then up onto the bottom of Bob’s boat.
To lift this fish up with his fingers by the blood-red gills of this fish.
To hold this fish up for all of us fishing on the river to see.
To look this fish square in its fish eye.
This would be, for Bob, more than what Bob would ever want.
It’s the feel of the fish that Bob most wants from this fish.
To feel, with Bob’s hands, with his fish heart, that the fish is there, that this fish is a fish that is.
It is hard for Bob to sit on his boat and for Bob to not be fishing.
Which is why when you see Bob out on the river sitting in his boat, you can be sure that Bob is not just there in his boat sitting.
What Bob is doing is, Bob is fishing in his boat.
Bob is sitting in his boat, Bob is drifting down the river, Bob is fishing for his fish.
The river that is the river at night.
At night, the river, it is not the river that is the river that is there when it is day.
During the day, when the sunlight is lighting upon it, out on the river, there are boats out on the river that are boats other than the boat that is Bob’s.
These other boats are boats other than the boat that is Bob.
At night, the river is Bob’s.
At night, the river is Bob.
That is the difference.
That is why the river at night is not the same as the river that is the river by day.
The sky with the su
n in it is not the same as the sky with the moon and the stars.
The day river is not the same as the night river.
The night river is Bob’s.
The fish that Bob is fishing for, Bob believes that this fish, it is a night fish.
It is a star fish.
It is a moon fish.
Like Bob, by day, this fish sleeps.
This fish, like Bob, by day, this fish is a fish that does not like to fish.
Sometimes, Bob likes to think of this fish as a brother.
If this fish that Bob is fishing for, if this fish is Bob’s brother, I can’t help but think this:
My uncle is a fish.
Call him Uncle.
Uncle Fish.
Or the uncle that isn’t really an uncle.
This uncle, though, that is a fish.
This fish that is a brother to Bob.
A brother to Bob who is a father who does not know he is a father.
Father, I want to say to Bob.
Who am I to say that this fish isn’t really an uncle?
Uncle, I want to say to this fish.
I want to take this fish by the fin.
I want to stand this fish face to face with my father.
Stand this fish face to face with Bob.
I want to say, to this fish, This is your brother.
This is Bob.
It’s been too long, I want to say.
I want to know too what Bob will do when he stands face to face, facing off with this fish.
What will Bob say?
Will Bob say anything?
Will Bob make with his mouth a sound?
That is the question.
I hope the answer, from Bob, will be this:
This is the fish.
This is the fish.
This is the fish.
But what if this fish isn’t the fish that Bob has been fishing for?
You know the answer to this.
Bob will keep fishing for that fish.
In a boat, on a river, lived a man.
How long has it been?
How long, that is, has Bob been fishing for this fish?
It’s been.
That’s how long it’s been.
Been fishing.
Gone fishing.
Going fishing.
Be back when.
Be back whenever.
Be like Bob.
Go fish.
Fish after dark.
Fish in the dark.
Fish through the dark.