Empty Nets
The sea lapped against the side of their boats. The night had been unproductive for both vessels. Men with muscular builds and hair covered limbs hauled their nets from the water. Even empty, lifting the nets from the sea was a chore for tired arms. "The catch is barely enough to feed my family." The speaker of the complaint was solidly built. His clothing had soaked up sea water and sweat. His day was ending with mounting frustration. "Things will get better, Simon." For a brief moment Simon believed his brother's passive response to their looming starvation, or more urgently their inability to pay the tax, had some basis in reality. "Once again, Andrew, do I have to listen to your view of our lives, wasted on fish and the call of the sea?" "It would be possible... to be something different." "We have been fishermen all our lives. You and I know no other trade. I cannot, overnight, become a carpenter. Neither can you. I am not ...