'AMERICAN'

Odel, a beautiful Bahamian Rasta lady, stood at the the end of the dock lifting up her crate as she sorted out her water bottles to prepare for the next day sales. She counted them slowly in her head while moving them from side to side. Further down 'American' sat at the edge of a ferry boat. He hated that name but only answered to it as it was the only thing they insisted on calling him. "Perry is my name", he said irritated with a silent indignation . He watched along side a Cab driver as they both threw their fishing lines far into the harbour. "Fish bite bread better " The cab driver asserted with a crisp voice. Others looked on with a curious skepticism. Jerking his hand backward, the cab driver pulled up a small, fat parrot fish. A few of the men gathered around standing firm with anticipation and excitement. 'American' didn't catch a thing this time but remained hopeful as he threw his line in again . It floated along the surface, slowly sinking to the bottom. The fish flapped hard against the solid concrete of the dock's pavement. On lookers concentrated on the two men who held their fishing lines taught as it anchored underneath an old tire and a long plastic pipe that lay stationary at the bottom of the sea. "Everything lookin' cool", Scratchie, one of the men from the ferry boats said while pushing his way passed the comotion from the catch. He held onto his white, woolen tam "Everything lookin' cool" he said, "Everything lookin' cool to me"