SHOW TIME

Phil Harvey

Chapter 7

Ambrose saw the glint from the barrel of the .22 before he saw Ivan.  He pulled his hands away from the pan where the trout was frying and held them up, palm-forward, toward Ivan.  Cecily froze.

Ivan stood facing them, holding his rifle, loosely, pointed at Ambrose’s feet.  His posture was tense.  Ambrose glanced along the length of the gun.  He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Ivan’s finger was resting on the guard, not on the trigger.

Ivan looked at Ambrose, locking eyes.  “Give... me... the fish,” Ivan said.  There was a long silence.

“No,” Ambrose said.   “I won’t give you the fish, but--”

“Give... me... half.”  He raised the rifle a few inches.  There was a long silence.  Cecily said, “Please!  Ivan...”  A tiny column of smoke rose from the pan, and they could smell burning.  Ambrose said, “I’m going to move the pan off the fire.”  Ivan stared at him.  Ambrose slowly reached for his leather work glove, folded the glove around the handle of the pan, and pulled the pan away from the low flames, leaving it in front of him.  He looked back at Ivan.

“Tell you what,” he said.  He stopped, took a deep breath.  “You put down that gun and sit down and we’ll share our fish with you.  Okay?”  Ivan stood motionless, saying nothing.  “We’ll all have the fish, divide it up.”  Ivan looked at Ambrose, at Cecily, at the fish sizzling in the pan.  Finally, without taking his eyes off them, he said “here,” and indicated that Ambrose should hand him some fish.

“Sling the gun at least,” Ambrose said.  The two men locked eyes.  Then very carefully, without taking his eyes off Ambrose, Ivan swung the gun behind his shoulder and tightened the sling.

Ambrose portioned out the trout on two tin plates, and gave one to Cecily.  Then he stood and held out a plate to Ivan and sat back down.  He ate his own portion directly from the pan, waiting for a minute to let it cool.

They ate with their fingers, silently.  Ambrose said, “You were a SEAL, is that right?”  Ivan waited before responding and then nodded. 

“That should be useful here,” Cecily said.  Ivan nodded again.  “Why did you come on this program?” Ambrose said.  Ivan finished his piece of fish and carefully licked the last bits of grease from his fingertips.  “Need... money,” he said finally.
“Yeah, I guess we all do,” Cecily said.

Ivan handed his plate to Cecily, turned carefully and started back toward his Rope Zone.

“You’re welcome,” Ambrose said to his back.

. . .

Read more chapters... Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 7, Chapter 11