I carried my bottle into the cabin and put it in a green plastic can by the door. Mrs. Cunningham was sitting in a chair looking at a magazine. She looked up at me and smiled, and I smiled back, like I'd been caught stealing, and went back on deck.
The Sarah started a sweeping turn just then, and I grabbed hold of the cabin door. "He's found them," Paul shouted down. I bent my head around and looked up. Matello was still sitting cross-legged on his platform, only now he had raised one arm and was pointing straight in front of us.
I could feel something start to get tight and hard in my chest as I always do when I see the birds diving over bait or a deer start out of cover, and I caught onto the ladder and climbed to the flying bridge.
Soon I was alongside Mr. Cunningham. He was standing at the wheel, looking over the bow. Twenty feet above him, Matello was still pointing straight ahead.
"Are you having a good time, Mr. Packard?" he said.
"Fine," I said. "I'm having a fine time, but where are those fish I just heard about."
"They're out there, out in front of us. You just can't see them yet."
There were a pair of binoculars on a shelf and I picked them up.
"You can't see them with those, either," he said.
"What do they look like when you can seem them?" I said.