In the Footsteps of Hemingway From Pamplona to Bimini

By Ray Knight

Ernest Hemingway casts a very long shadow – especially the one thrown over Ray Knight by the Bahamian sunset on Hemingway's beloved islands of Bimini. Using the late literary giant's terse aphorisms and mordant quips as springboards for his own lean and drum-tight prose, Ray Knight invites us to join him on a journey from Pamplona to Bimini, in the footsteps of his literary hero.

This collection of short stories, anecdotes and excerpts from the author's novels runs the gamut of emotions, from pathos and tragedy to humor and unabashed sentimentality – from a moving and thought-provoking look at the ethical ramifications of euthanasia to a boxing tale that pulls no punches, and without which no homage to Hemingway would be complete.

Whether you add an extra kick to your coffee break one tale at a time or settle down with a glass of rum and spend an evening 'In The Footsteps of Hemingway', you're in for an enjoyable and edifying read – and a great introduction to the author's full-length works.


The Vet's Dilemma:- A personal look at one man's anguished choice between humanity and morality. What will he do? What would you do?
The Tears of a Clown:- A clown's antics bring joy to thousands of children but behind the make-up is a face racked with pain.
Monty:- A man's relationship with his car confounds his daughter and leads to a traumatic and deadly conclusion..
Shadows :- A man struggles for survival in a harsh and dangerous environment. Voices from his past come to haunt him. Will they save or condemn him?
A Father's Love:- A father risks the wrath of his community and his life in a desperate attempt rescue his son from the horror of addiction.
It Tolls for Thee:- A washed-up boxer is offered one last, desperate shot at the big time – will he risk his life for one final chance of glory?
Right of Passage:- A young hunter faces the ultimate test – will he become a legend or just a memory? A sample chapter from 'The Mountain'…
Felicia's Cabin:- A kidnapped woman faces up to her captors in this sample chapter from' The Hatcher File'…
Walking With the Bulls:- The author recalls his experience in Pamplona in 1977 – a year of tragic events at the Festival of San Fermin
Every Job in Town:- An amusing recollection of the author's time in Sydney during 1980, when Australia was a land full of opportunities for a young man… either to get rich or get into a lot trouble!

• Language: English
• Publisher: M-Y Books ltd
• Release date: Jan 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781909908246

Book preview

Inspiration

Why Hemingway?

Earnest Hemingway first influenced my life without my even realizing the fact. Together with two Danish girls, I made my way to the Festival of San Fermin in the Basque region of northern Spain in 1977. The festival is better known as ‘Running of the Bulls’ and is so popular today that hotel rooms, during the festival, are booked years in advance. For centuries, the event had been an obscure custom in a remote and forgotten corner of Europe until Hemingway immortalized it when he penned ‘The Sun Also Rises’. Without Big Papa’s book, I would probably never have heard of Pamplona.

My connection with Hemingway doesn’t end there. Like him, I have a passion for boxing but my participation ceased at the tender age of sixteen when I left school and discovered the attraction of women and wine. I soon discovered that drinking and chasing women led to black eyes and bruised ribs in the sparring ring. The choice, for me, was a simple one and I gave up boxing but continue to follow the sport avidly. The great man, however, continued to romanticize the craft well into his later years and always fancied himself as a pugilistic force. Many contemporary experts disagreed with him, but he characteristically dismissed their opinions as irrelevant.

When I first decided to write short stories, I turned to the past masters for inspiration and focused on Chekov and Hemingway. Two authors from different eras with distinct writing styles but one thing in common, both writers made the most mundane of subjects seem fascinating and I tried to emulate them. I’m still trying to this day.

Now I find myself living in one of Hemingway’s favorite places, Bimini. He lived here for several years and wrote the outline for ‘Islands in the Stream’ just yards from where I am sitting at The Big Game Club. I relocated here to work but find myself drawn to the southern end of North Bimini where I sit in a bar surrounded by photos and memorabilia of the great man just yards from the burnt out shell of The Compleat Angler Hotel and Brown’s Marina where he set many scenes. I decided to compile a selection of my shorter literary efforts into a collection as a tribute to the man who has influenced my life and writing so much. Hence the grandiose title.

I don’t pretend to be half the literary genius that Earnest Hemingway was and my style is far from his minimalistic approach, but I am a storyteller and I hope you enjoy my efforts.

Ray Knight

Bimini Big Game Club

Bimini, Bahamas… April 2015

Part One

Short Stories

Hemingway once said, ‘All stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that from you.’

The following story is my personal favorite for many reasons. It touches on a very emotive subject that is close to my heart. In 2009, I had a malignant melanoma removed from my back and went through two weeks of worry and uncertainty until my doctor gave me a clean bill of health. During that time, one of my favorite dogs had to be put out of its suffering by the local vet. It inspired me to write this story, which I recently revisited when a close friend of mine lay in intensive care, on life support, fighting the final stages of cancer.

I poured my heart into this story and initially shared it only with close friends and colleagues. The response convinced me, for the first time, that I could actually touch people with my writing. The reactions varied from tears to anger, horror and frustration that I hadn’t solved the vet’s dilemma at the story’s end.

It asks a question of the reader that everyone will answer in his or her own personal way. How will you answer it? What would you do?

The Vet’s Dilemma

The animal’s breath came in huge gasps, its nostrils flaring. Steam rose from the horse’s flanks like mist on a winter’s morning. Its eyes bulged as the pain ravaged its body. Glistening white bone, stained with dark red blood, protruded through the skin of the left foreleg. Bill squatted beside the stricken beast and ran his hand over the horse’s neck. The fast and erratic pulse told him that shock had set in.

‘I’m sorry, John, she’ll have to be put down,’ he said.

‘I figured as much. I heard the crack from across the field. I knew it was bad from the start.’

‘Do you have insurance?’

‘Yes, I called them after I spoke to you. They said they couldn’t get anyone here until this afternoon.’

‘I won’t wait that long. This horse is suffering too much,’ the vet said quietly. ‘They may not pay you out. They normally want to authorize the procedure before I carry it out.’

‘Screw them. They are a bunch of crooks anyway. Just do what you have to, and I’ll argue with them later.’ John’s pragmatic answer typified the spirit of the county’s farming community.

‘How are you going to dispose of the body?’

‘I used the backhoe to dig a hole and filled it with lime. I’ve been through this before.’

‘You must be used to it by now.’

‘You never get used to seeing a horse die,’ the big man’s voice was almost a whisper.

The vet looked at him with compassion, ‘It’s the humane thing to do, John.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ The rancher stared into the distance and blinked a few times. It could have been the wind that made his eyes water.

Bill opened his bag, removed a syringe and administered a sedative into the horse’s neck. As he waited for the horse to settle, he prepared a 60cc shot of Sodium Phenobarbital. The horse weighed a thousand pounds. It took two injections before life ebbed from the animal. He checked for vital signs. The eyes were very sensitive and he checked for a blink reaction by touching the eyeball. Nothing – the horse was dead.

‘I wouldn’t have your job for all the gold in Fort Knox, Bill.’

‘It’s not all bad. I attend to more births than deaths, I’m glad to say,’ said the vet, as he packed his bag.

‘Do you ever get used to putting an animal down?’

‘No, but it has to be done sometimes.’

‘Yeah, I know. As you said, it’s the humane thing to do.’

‘Look at it like this, John. If the horse had been in the wild, it would’ve suffered a long painful death. Luckily, we can put an end to its suffering. The horse had a good life, and a peaceful death. It’s as much as we can do.’

John walked the vet back to his ambulance. Neither spoke as they trudged across the field. Bill’s white vehicle had ‘Dr William Ferguson, Emergency Veterinary Surgeon’ emblazoned across the side in bold red lettering. Brisk business in the county enabled Bill to afford the latest equipment.

‘I’ll send you an invoice and you can settle your account at the end of the month,’ he told John.

The big man shook his hand and turned away before Bill had even climbed into the van. The vet was tempted to offer more words of condolence but thought better of it.

With no more calls for the day, Bill decided to head home. It hadn’t been a good day. He’d put an old Retriever to sleep that morning and had let a retiree talk him out of another mercy killing. That nagged at his conscience and he’d have to revisit the situation. The widow had owned the Shih Tzu for almost twelve years, and it had been her constant companion since her husband passed. She couldn’t let go, although the animal suffered. It was blind and had a huge tumor on its underbelly.

Bill looked at the big picture. The dog was the only comfort to the elderly woman and the center of her existence. She would probably die herself if she lost the animal, but it was still not right. He’d visit the pound in the morning and find another dog for the old woman to dote over. One way or another he wasn’t prepared to see the little dog suffer any longer. It was tough being the conscience of the community.

Bill negotiated the light traffic and pulled into his driveway a scant twenty minutes later. As he climbed down from the ambulance, he looked wearily at his house. He trudged to the front door as if reluctant to enter. Before he could insert his key, the door opened and a young blonde woman emerged and smiled at him. His breath caught at the sight of her.

‘Hi, Daddy,’ she