The man sat on the ledge with his legs dangling over. He stared at his fishing line. It went down at a slight angle to his right until it disappeared through the mist and into the sound of rushing water that was so far away it sounded like a weak breeze whispering through an autumn forest. The boy sat with him. His legs kicking as if his feet were spinning yarn from the cotton-like mist. His bare chest was brown from the dirt and the sun. His nervousness got the best of him, so he took a small rock and through it into the mist.

“Don’t do it boy! You’ll scare the fish!”

“I was trying to hit a Hilly. The other boys and I play a game; if we find something in the dump we throw rocks down there and whoever can hit a Hilly and make them scream gets to keep the prize.”

“You should leave those people alone. How would you like it if people threw rocks at you for no reason? Besides, they ain’t down there by choice, and they’re lucky to be alive. They don’t need no brats like you throwin’ rocks at ‘em. They got it hard ‘nuf”

“How do they eat if they can’t leave?”

“You know they eat the fish boy! They’re the ones takin’ em off my line before I can get ‘em up here! That’s why when I tell you to be fast, you got gotta be fast, boy! Don’t let that fish go near the sides! Whether your belly stays empty or gets filled up depends upon it! Depends upon it, boy!”

“Well then why do care if I hit Hilly with a rock if they steal all your fish?”

“They steal outa survival. I don’t hate ‘em fer stealin’ my fish. I hate that I don’t get the fish, sure, but I don’t hate them. At least when I don’t come up with any fish I can feel like I done some good, like I helped feed some people in need. That feelin’ helps me sleep better than a full stomach some nights. Besides, sometimes they take off the fish and put on somethin’ else, like a trade of sorts.”

“I think you’re just good at catching junk!”

“You ungrateful, wretched, boy! If you don’t watch your mouth I’ll put you on the end of that line and give you to the Hillies! I’d like to see what they’d put back on the line in trade for a boy your size!”

At that the boy got up, took a handful of rocks, and threw them down into the mist before storming off. Just as the man began to feel bad at his last remark the reel let out an awful hiss and he had to shuffle his feelings to the back of his mind for later.

Without any spoken words he and the boy were on the same team again and both ran to the rod. It looked more like a miniature crane than a fishing rod as it stuck out and dropped the line into the middle of the ravine as far from the walls as possible. As he ran to the rod the old man fumbled with the straps of his harness. He locked them all in place, pulling them so tight that they looked like they were about to split his gut in two. He gestured to the boy to get the chain. The boy grabbed a chain that was fastened to a rock wall behind them and ran with it towards the man. When he reached the man he attached the chain to a clip at the back of the harness. The man grabbed the rod with two hands and let out a mighty grunt as he heaved it out of its mount. The weight of it almost knocked him down as he stumble backward. He turned to the where the rod pointed, let out another labored grunt, and dropped the butt of the rod into a holster that stuck out in front of the harness. He latched the rod into place, hit the brake on the reel, and pulled back with all his might.

“Fast, boy! Fast!”

The boy stood at the side of the man with his back to the ravine, he never got to see any of the action and resented it, but he knew his job. With two hands he grabbed a handle that stuck out from the crank and began bringing in the line as fast as possible. From his stance he could see only the man’s face as it contorted into a variety of shapes from the strain of the rod.

“Faster, boy! Don’t let it touch the sides! Don’t let the Hillies eat your dinner tonight!”

The boy pumped as hard as he could. His back ached and his hands blistered, but all the pain in the world wouldn’t stop him. He would go until he broke himself if it meant making the man proud.

“That’s it boy! You sure are getting faster these days! The Hillies will have to be quick as lightning today! It’s a big one! A big one, boy! We’ll eat for weeks!” The man couldn’t help but roar with joy and laughter!

The excitement got the attention of at least a dozen old and weary fisherman that lined the cliff. They rushed to aid the duo. They gave the boy water and cheered him on. They patted the man’s forehead dry of his sweat. But more selfishly they crowded on the edge to check the progress of the line.

“What kind of lead is on that line?” one shouted from the edge.

“Steel! Always steel!” The man shouted to crowd – proud of his techniques as if teaching them how it’s really done. “A true fisherman is prepared to catch a whale every day of his life! I’d fish a puddle with this same rig! I could catch a whale from a puddle! Swear to god!”

The man’s chest was swelling out before him, half with pride, and half from keeping the rod upright.

“I might even let you have some – whatever it is! I feel bad for you all. I could use your daily catches as bait and you take them home for dinner!” His pride was getting the best of him now. He knew he shouldn’t go so far as to mock these men for bringing home small catches. He’d spent just as many nights as they did with no fish and an empty stomach.

A man from the crowd shouted over the excitement, “For every whale you pull from a puddle I bet you bring in 100 tons of Hilly trash! I’ve seen you at the market trying to trade a wet Hilly boot for a loaf of bread!” This sent the crowd into a roar of laughter and turned the man’s face red. But before shame had a chance to fully wash over him a cry came from the cliff.

“Steel lead! The steel lead!”

It wouldn’t be long now, the man pulled on the rod as hard as he could. Soon they would see his great prize. Soon they would begging for a piece to bring home to their families.

“Faster, boy! We’re almost there! I’ll show you a fish so big your ma’ will be up for a week straight cookin’ it! Faster, boy!”

He shouted to the crowd, “Get this boy some water, he’s done more work bringin’ in this whale than most of you have done your whole lives!”

The boy’s pride was fueling him now. He pumped faster than ever. He tilted his head back to drink and then closed his mouth and let the water run over him. The cold chill of the water and the joy he got from making the man proud sent him to another level. He felt alive like he never had before. He cranked as hard as he could.

“Grab the line,” the man shouted, and one of the men in the crowd grabbed a long stick with a hook on the end of it and started to grab at the line. He caught it and brought it in, and the crowd began to play a game of tug of war with the mist.

“Easy, boy. You’ve done your part, you’ve done it well. Help me get this off.”

The man and the boy worked the harness off and made their way to the crowd. There were so many hands on the steel cable that all the duo could do was get to the edge of the cliff and wait to see their prize. The man put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled. The boy smiled back.

As they looked down, a strange figure began to take shape out of the mist. The man knew something was wrong. The figure was too high up on the line. He knew his hook was further down than that. His heart sank to his twisting stomach at the thought of catching another piece of trash, or, worse yet, if a Hilly somehow managed to snag his great fish.

The figure took shape and shock ran through the crowd. What they saw was the shape of a human! Not just any human, but a woman! She held onto the line and stood with one foot in the curve of the giant hook. The men were in awe. They held her hands and arms as they pulled her to the edge. They all then backed away as she stepped off the hook onto solid ground. All that the men could do was look at each other in awe.

The woman was glowing in the sun as she stood there naked, dripping wet, but had no shame as her radiance almost blinded half the men. Her soaking red hair draped down just enough the cover the top of her breasts. A drop of water rolled off one of them and fell the length of her porcelain body to splash upon her naked foot.

After a few moments the shock wore off and the silent standoff came to end. An old man burst with laughter “That must’ve been some fish if the Hillies traded one of their own women for it! I bet they’re figurin’ a way to build a big enough fire to roast it!”

The man was so red and furious that the sweat on his forehead began to steam as he rushed at the old man. “Shut up! I’ll throw you over! Just shut up!” He lunged at the old man but the crowd held him back. As he backed off he locked his gaze upon the woman. “And you! You Hilly! What’s the meaning of this?! Your people steal my food and trade me a… a whore!? I’ve got a right mind to chop you up and use you as bait! Why are you here? You know we can’t save your people! You’re descendants of criminals! Thrown off the cliff and doomed to live in the sides of the ravine if you survive! Anyone who brings you up goes back down with you!”

“At least if you were a Hilly you’d eat fish once in a while,” A voice from the crowd mocked. The rest of the crowd burst into laughter.

“Fuck all of you!” the man shouted. “You’re all a bunch of fucking vagrants! I hope you starve over a hundred nights! A thousand! I hope you all die in agony!” He looked at the woman, “You! You come with me!” he grabbed her by the wrist and rushed off away from the cliff down a trail. Just as he was about to disappear around a turn he yelled back “Boy! Grab the gear! Don’t let those beggars take it to trade at the market, I want them all to starve tonight!”

The boy grabbed all the gear. He broke rod down into segments and stuffed everything into a sack that was twice his size and heaved it onto his back. He ran down to where the man and woman were and went out of sight around the curve.