#154 Dynamite

by Nicole Santa Maria

Joaquin heard about dynamite fishing from his cousin Jesus. Put ammonium nitrate and kerosene into a bottle, light it up, and the fish would float right up to your fingers! Joaquin couldn’t wait to try it on their next visit.

He grinned with excitement the whole flight. His dad thought he was excited to spend time with his family in the tropics.

“You’ll have a blast, son,” he chuckled.

Joaquin rocked in his seat merrily in response.

When they arrived, he dutifully kissed the adults and then sped to Jesus. The two boys snuck onto a small boat and paddled to a spot half mile from shore.

Jesus handed Joaquin the improvised explosive. It was a Coke bottle so old it was almost opaque. Then he sat down and took a swig out of a two-liter bottle of Fanta.

Joaquin stood up and solemnly cocked back his arm in preparation for the throw. This was their moment. The explosion would be their rite of passage.

The bottle, slick with sweat from both their palms, slid from his fingers. It fell in slow motion. Jesus lunged backward into the water. Joaquin followed his lead and hurtled out of the boat.

The blast created a column of water that shot up into the air. Blue and white sprayed everywhere. Two globs of orange, one from the bottle, one from Jesus’ spurting mouth, joined the splash.

“The fishes’ revenge,” Grandma cackled when the soaked boys trudged home. They never touched dynamite again.