The Stranger

Fishing pole tucked under his arm, the old man shuffled along the boardwalk toward the shimmering ocean. He was a strange man; he wore a suit, a white button down shirt and a hat; for a fishing trip. Sea gulls squawked over head. To the man’s left, a group of kids mumbled under their breath, “Wow! Look at that old guy!” “What up with the tux?” The man heard them, but paid no attention to them; he just smiled and looked out onto the ocean. One of the kids threw a carton of cheesy fries at the man. He felt it knock off his hat. His smile turned into a cold, hard, emotionless expression. The laugh lines disappeared under the scars. Again he paid no attention to the group of kids. “What ever, let’s blow this joint.” The group soon followed, except for one boy; about the age of 11, shaggy hair and tanned skin. “Sorry ‘bout that sir,” said the boy as he gingerly returned the hat to the man. The old man showed a slight smirk. The man and the boy chatted, but their chattering was interrupted abruptly by a tug on the man’s fishing pole. A fresh catch! Both struggled with reeling in the monstrous trout. In the end, the man hauled the trout over the wooden posts and on that note; he left with a slight nod to the boy.