In Search of the Giant Squid in All the Wrong Waters: Week 34
Friday, August 22, 2014, 8:46am
Today, I searched for the giant squid in Gooseneck Lake, which, from the air, looks abdominal, the bird digested, and the neck thoroughly rung. Of course, indentured to gravity, I did not see it from the air. For bait, I used the pineapple car freshener I found on the bank of Ganamush Lake last week, which itself (the lake, not the freshener) is shaped like an excised pinky. The freshener lost its juice, so to speak, but retained its lovely cardboard smell. Ganamush, meet Gooseneck. Yup. According to HookandBullet.com, Gooseneck Lake is dominated by Northern pike, and “watch out for the gnats,” and Que vous soyez autrement vos chances d’obtenir une morsure ici sont bonnes. I was too busy with my French-English dictionary to watch out for the gnats, and when the domineering pike made off with my air freshener, I re-baited by hook with the ripped-out balled-up entry for calamar géant, and took little comfort in the ‘Used In a Sentence’ example which roughly translated as, “He was able to shoot a variety of animals, including other species of squid, but the giant squid remained elusive.” I cast, and thought about ability—its parameters, its girdles and petticoats; how a dying crow can muster a call that, to a potential mate, is never more sexually attractive in its plaintive desperation. From the lake’s bottom, a rush of air. The Trembling Aspen stilled itself, and became an Aspen. Overhead, the family of Canada geese coughed their calls. They looked down at the lake, the thing about to rise from it, the gnats making a hollow of my scalp, but they did not land. I tried to shake all self-interest, ability, the notion that the dry crust that supports me is a catch-all verb. The geese passed over, on. And nothing lands on water.