32
CIRQUE
Doug Pope
Arctic Char
When the char surges I let it run, Beth is seven months pregnant. trying to keep it from the fast current, We’ve rationed food for a week. or wrapping the line around a willow. We need fresh meat. When it stops, I gently reel in. We’re camped on a barren gravel bar But, then it runs again and I have to start over. in the western Brooks Range , After 30 minutes my wrist is aching three hundred miles down river but I have managed to work it from where we launched our kayak. to a tiny gravel beach. I convinced Beth we would catch lots of fish. The char lays on its side, But, the river was low from the start and its gills barely moving in and out. we caught one grayling the first week, I reach down and grab the line instead of the fish. not much more than a mouthful apiece. The char flops, comes out of its stupor, Yesterday, I spotted a flash of color in a small pool and throws the hook. as we drifted by the mouth of a stream. “Noooo.” “Red flash,” I thought, “maybe a char’s belly.” The char slithers through the shallow water. But, it’s a spawned out dog salmon I dive with both hands outstretched. with bright red sides, green back, I can feel the char’s smooth skin big toothy nose, and only half a tail. on my fingertips, When I laid it in the bottom of the kayak, but it slips through my hands and is gone. on a bed of grass, I stand up and look down river. Beth arched her eyebrow. Beth is laying on a foam pad on her back, The flesh was white and mushy, her pregnant belly a bump in the flat landscape of the river bar. but we ate it for dinner. I can’t face her yet. And now, another day down river, Noatak Village is still two days downriver. I’m scrambling from one pool to another, searching the clear waters of the Kelly River for an arctic char. A flash of silver appears behind my spoon and then is gone. “Silver,” I think, “not red.” I cast again. The line shudders. When I lift the rod tip, a hefty char breaks the surface. My tackle is light, the fish is strong, the pool is small.
Painting by Angela Ramirez