May 1978

Two brothers and their father spend the morning fishing.

 

       The sun cast shadows on a forest of large rocks scattered erratically throughout the damp meadow. It was eight-thirty in the morning when Steve, Gary, and Allan stopped the pickup on the side pull-off of a dirt driveway that was so long it was considered a state road. One family lived at the end in a small log cabin. The meadow was right below the pickup and beyond the meadow was a muddy river that engendered the best tasting brown trout in the county. 

             “Don’t forget the bait,” Steve said to Gary getting out of the pickup.

       It was one of the few times Gary and his brother could spend time with their father, who usually worked six days a week and spent the seventh day lying around the house drinking. 

             “Yeah I’ve got it dad,” Gary said energetically.

        Gary loved to fish. It always set his mind at ease especially on nice days when the sun was hot and a cool breeze tempered it. He didn’t know how he would feel fishing with his father and brother, but when they arrived beside the familiar meadow he felt more alive than ever. 

             “I hope they’re bitin’ this morning,” Allan said.

             “We’ll soon find out,” Gary said.

        Gary went around to the back of the pickup and opened the tailgate. He took the tackle box in one hand and put his fishing pole over his opposite shoulder. Steve was slow moving. He had a headache that wouldn’t go away. He had drunk an entire bottle of cheap whiskey throughout the day yesterday and his hangover lingered on. It made his ears more sensitive to the humming of insects and the chirping of birds. 

             “Surprised you could get away from your woman,” Allan said to Gary.

             “Yeah, well she’s working all day and she wants me to spend more time with dad,” Gary said passively. 

Gary was dressed in faded jeans that were tucked into knee-high rubber boots, a cargo vest, and a short sleeved shirt. Allan wore the same only he had a round hat that was large enough to block the sun from his eyes. Their features were similar. Allan was a couple inches taller than Gary, and was also a bit more slender, but with the same pointed nose and dark coarse hair. They both looked like their mother. 

             “Are you two gonna stand around all day and chit chat or are we gonna fish?” Steve said boldly.

 Steve was standing near the driver’s side door. He wore overalls and an old farming hat that was faded and oil stained. He spent most of his life as a farmer and furniture builder at the town’s only furniture workshop. It closed down last year forcing him to work as a carpenter. Jobs were steady through the summer months and into the fall and winter people needed repair work on their roofs.

             “Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on. We are getting the poles and bait,” Allan said responsively. Allan never had a problem talking back to his father. His temperament was much like his mother’s. Often they would bang heads but it kept them communicating and close. Gary had always kept his father at a distance, never letting him into his private emotional side. It was mainly due to fear which stemmed from a misunderstanding. Gary misunderstood his father. Gary thought his father’s selfishness was an immense entity that consumed the patience of everyone who once loved and cared for him. It was something that exuded from his pores like a disease that had a life of its own and the unfortunate part Gary thought, is that he will always be oblivious to it.

             “Well let’s get a move on then,” Steve said. 

The three started their walk downward through the trodden path of high grass. It was a rough walk. The wetness of the early morning grass made it slippery and unsuspecting rocks caused their feet to stumble. They took their time walking. Steve wasn’t as agile as Gary and Allan remembered him to be. He took smaller steps and was more cautious. The wind died down a little and the sun showed its teeth. Halfway there, the men were already sweating. The river could now be seen through the trees. The sun reflected off from its winding current and large tree shadows suspended themselves over the banks. An old tire swing hung from a thick pine branch and swayed passively in the breeze. It reminded Gary of the times when he and Allan used to play all day in the back yard on their old swing set, singing old country music songs while swinging as high as they could. 

             “Hey dad, do ya remember the time when Allan and I stayed in the back yard so long you thought we had took off somewhere?” Gary asked.

            “Yeah,” Steve said. “My memory’s not that bad ya know.”

             “You were working on that old tractor of yours and forgot we were outside playing and because the back windows were taped up you couldn’t see into the back yard. You almost called the police, you and mom,” Gary said quietly under his breath. 

             “Yeah I remember that too, your face was so mad looking when you saw us dad, like we did something wrong,” Allan said.

             “Well how the hell was I supposed to know, you kids were always sneaking around up to something,” Steve said reactively. 

             “Yeah I know we were always into something,” Allan said nonchalantly. 

             The three trudged through a patch of muddy soil. Their boots were caked with the earthy smelling mud. The smell of hot meadow grass filled their nostrils and little black flies swarmed around their heads. Allan and Gary started to bat the air with their hands.

             “Lets get out of this wet spot, the flies love the dampness,” Gary said. 

             “I think they like you best, they’re all over you now,” Allan said laughingly. 

             “Your blood must be sweet,” Steve said. “I don’t have to worry, I still got whiskey in my blood, they don’t like that too much, do ya, you little b******s,” he said defiantly.

             They moved on and found themselves in a clearing looking down at a little path that led to the river bank. It was steep and soft. The loose gravel gave away little by little as they skated down. As they approached the river its murmurings grew louder. The noise of fast steady moving water drowned the humming of insects and pacified the thoughts running through Gary’s mind. When he heard the river he didn’t think about spending time with his father, he forgot about Allan, he forgot about April and where their relationship would lead, he forgot about himself living in a world of problems and responsibilities. As the river flowed around him, it gave him a feeling of oneness, of permanence in a world of transience. 

             “I’ll stay here and fish,” Steve said confidently. “I want to be in the shade.”

             “Alright dad, but the best spots are down a little further to the right,” Allan said persuasively. 

             “I’m staying put, this spot is as good as any other. I’ve been fishing this river since before you were even thought of,” Steve said harshly.

             “Okay then, suit yourself. You old b*****d,” Allan said under his breath.

             Gary looked at Allan who was in front of him. Steve had already cast out his line and ignored the other two. 

             “Can’t tell him a thing,” Allan said.

             “Yeah, I know,” Gary said quietly.

             “Well, I’ll head down the river this way. Why don’t you go on up past dad and see if you can find that hole I’ve heard about. It’s supposed to be the best spot on this part of the river,” Gary said. 

             “Really? Yeah seems as though I’ve heard that too, I forget where though. You sure you want to fish by yourself?” Allan said. 

             “Yeah for now, dad’s put me in a bad mood. I’ll head up your way in a little while. Let’s see who can catch the biggest one,” Gary said cheerfully.

             “Yeah, okay,” Allan said. 

             The two brothers parted. Gary walked discreetly down the rocky bank past the larger boulders that blocked the others’ view and then he was out of sight.

             “Where’s he goin’,” Steve asked gutturally. 

             “He’s goin’ to a good spot, but I’m headed up this way to an even better one,” Allan said.

             “Huh,” Steve said with the same inflection.

             “You’d be wise to move from this spot too dad. There’s nothing here but rocks and other things to snag your hook on,” Allan said coolly.

             “You watch, I’ll catch more than the both of you put together,” Steve said confrontationally.

             “Okay, if you say so dad,” Allan said sarcastically.

             “You won’t get smart with me boy if you know what’s good for you,” Steve said angrily.

             “Alright dad, I don’t know what you’re so angry about, but I’ll leave you alone,” Allan said.

             “Good, that’s all I want,” Steve said coldly.

             Gary and Allan left their father, left each other to be. Gary reached the spot where the water slowed. It was deeper and darker.

             This is it. It must be it. I remember that tree on the other side, hanging like that over the water. I’ll sit down on this rock for a second to bait my hook. April’s Working. Dad. Allan. Fishing, I like it. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I say stuff to dad? What am I doing with my life? Life, it seems so far away. I’m always waiting for my life to begin. John and Andy aren’t really my friends. It’s all fake. Why is everyone so selfish? I need to get my mind off from everything and today’s the day to do it.

             Gary reached for the coffee can of worms. He opened it. The smell of wet soil and worms baking in the sun hit his nose and he turned his head. He pulled a long night-crawler out and braided it around his hook. After adding an extra shiny sinker to his line he left the rock and made his way down to the calm muddy whirling water. Standing ankle-high, he could feel the water pressing at his knee-high boots. He let his line go, casting out into the calm. He waited jiggling his line every two minutes. Circular dark shadows moved around the line and then a strong tug. Gary yanked the pole backward and released the line to give it some slack. He began to reel slowly and then a little faster. He could feel the resistance the tugging, the attempt to escape. He wouldn’t relent. The reeling became more difficult until he saw it jump from the water and land close to the rocks. It was the biggest trout he’d seen since he was a boy. He reeled some more until it came within grabbing distance. The fish flopped and flipped in desperation. It landed on a large rock away from the water a couple of feet from Gary. Its mouth opened and shut, gasping rhythmically. The wet scales shimmered in the sun. The brown of its upper half was a deep chestnut color. 

             “Wow,” Gary said aloud to himself in astonishment.

             He looked at the fish gasping and then down at the stick he broke off a lilac bush near his father’s house. He took the stick in one hand, the fish in the other and slanted the stick through the right fish gills and out through the left side. 

             “There that should hold’m,” Gary said with satisfaction.

             Two hours passed and Gary had caught two more trout, though not as big as the first. With all three together on the lilac stick he packed up his bait and pole and started his ascent toward his father and brother. The woods behind the river grew louder. A woodpecker could be heard off in the distance. It reminded Gary of pounding nails into hardwood beams in the old horse barn not far from his father’s house. He was just a kid. He wanted to be like his dad, always carrying a small work-belt around his waist and a pouch for nails. He would spend hours in that old barn playing. 

             Mom always called me her little carpenter

             He walked around the river bend and the large boulders. From the boulders he could see his father. The unmistakable overalls, the oil stained hat, and those large forearms. When he was a small boy he thought his father was Popeye the sailor man. Now he was just a man, lying there propped up on the bank. Gary watched and hid from view. He retrieved binoculars from his satchel and focused in on his father. His line was tangled and caught, the pole on the rocky ground, and he was fast asleep. 

             What a jackass!

 “I’d better go up around him over to Allan,” Gary said quietly to himself.

             He walked up the bank from behind the boulders trying to be as quiet as possible. He made his way through the thick underbrush and high grass further from where his father laid down below. He walked down the bank again, his feet sliding and kicking up loose rocks. He looked back and saw his father in the distance again, only from the other side. The cool breeze livened Gary’s pace and quickly he saw Allan fishing over an embankment, his line cast into the deep calm pool below. 

             “Hey, are you having so much fun that you lost track of time?” Gary asked walking from out behind a large pine and hoping to startle him.

             “Why? What time is it?” Allan asked coolly.

             “I didn’t scare you huh?” Gary said.

             “Man, I could hear you coming a mile away with those heavy feet of yours,” Allan said triumphantly. 

             Their relationship hadn’t developed beyond the school days competition stage. Both of them tried with every chance they could to get the best of one another. And when one of them had more “I got you beat” points it divided them further. The competition was the game of life and right now Gary was ahead by many points, so Allan basked in the glow of victory with any points he could garner from the sport of life, just to get closer to his brother. It was something they both inherited from their father.

             “Right, right,” Gary said in disbelief.

             “Yeah, it’s a good thing you don’t hunt, you’d scare off every animal within a hundred miles of you,” Allan said jokingly.

             “Sure, sure, whatever you say,” Gary said in defeat. 

             Allan continued to fish with his back to Gary.

             “Hey, you’ll never guess what dad is doing,” Gary said.

             “Um, let me think. He’s probably passed out right where he stayed,” Allan said confidently.

             “How’d you know?” Gary said amazedly.

             “I didn’t, but I knew that his breath ranked of whiskey and whiskey and sun don’t mix well,” Allan said knowingly.

             “Yeah, what a jackass,” Gary said.

             “Well, that’s dad for you,” Allan said.

             “We asked him to come with us, just so he could get out of his day to day routine of working and drinking and maybe, just maybe act like a decent human being for once in his life, but instead he’s his usual self, a complete a*****e, passed out by himself. Pisses me off!” Gary said heatedly. 

             “Don’t let it get you down. You know how he is. He’s not going to change, not for you, not for me. He didn’t change for mom, what makes you think he’s gonna change for anyone else?” Allan said rhetorically. 

             “Yeah, I know. You’re right, it’s just that, aww.. I don’t know. I guess I’m just pitying myself, wishing things were different with our family, wishing mom never left and that dad would’ve given up his ways so she didn’t have to leave,” Gary said plaintively. 

             “Well don’t pity yourself. It’s not that bad. She didn’t have to leave, she chose to. And besides even though dad’s a pain in the a*s, I think he’d be devastated if we weren’t around to piss him off. He’s already one step away from jumping off a cliff because of mom,” Allan said spitefully. 

             Gary was looking off into the distant trees. The sun created shadows amidst the large pines, making the woods look like one black mass. Standing over the river on a steep embankment Gary and Allan looked at each other knowing just how one another felt about their parents’ separation. Gary would always blame their father and Allan would always blame their mother. 

             “Who knows. Nothing in life seems to make any sense. It’s just people in their own little worlds, in their own little bubbles bouncing off from each other. If only we were in one giant bubble together, maybe then we could make sense of it all,” Gary said meditatively. 

             “After a while wouldn’t it start to smell like s**t though?” Allan said snickering. 

             Gary looked over at his brother who had a smirk on his face. Slowly but surely the corners of Gary’s mouth shifted upward and a wide smile lit up his face, followed by a burst of laughter.

             “You dumbass,” Gary said still smiling. 

             “Hey, takes one to know one,” Allan said instantly.

             “Yeah, Yeah, sure. Well how many fish did you catch?” Gary asked.

             “Three, almost four though. I hooked one huge b*****d but he managed to escape somehow. I could feel him pulling, almost pulled the pole right out of my hands. I was pissed. They’re smart today, taking little nibbles at a time instead of swallowing the whole thing,” Allan said.

             “Yeah I know. I caught three also. But the first one was a monster. Here check him out,” said Gary as he walked behind the same pine tree he used to hide from Allan.

             “It’s the biggest trout I’ve seen since dad caught that one when we were little,” Gary said humbly.

             “Holy crap, that is a monster,” Allan said looking at it hanging on the lilac stick.

             “That’s what I thought too when I first saw it,” Gary said.

             “I think it’s bigger than the one dad caught. Damn, it’s bigger than my three put together. I’m fishing down where you were next time, sonafabitch,” Allan said in amazement. 

             Large clouds glided through the azure sky settling overhead. The shadows grew faint and then disappeared. The wind blew dust from river bank gravel into Gary’s face. 

             “Hey it feels like rain’s coming. Did you read the forecast for today?” Allan asked.

             “Yeah it didn’t mention anything about clouds or rain,” Gary said gathering his satchel and fish.

             “Sonsabitches, can’t ever depend on weather forecasts around here,” Allan said into the air.

             Well, lets get going just in case we get caught in a downpour,” Gary said hurriedly. 

             “Yeah, we gotta go wake up the old a*s. How much you wanna bet he’ll pretend he’s been fishing all along,” Allan said.

             “I know him to well to take that bet,” Gary said. 

             They walked back through the path that Gary formed when he trudged his way up to meet Allan. When they arrived near the spot where Steve was fishing and sleeping he was nowhere to be seen. Gary had noticed strands of fishing line cut and left on the rocky bank. 

             “Where the hell did he go?” Allan shouted over the noisy current.

             “I have no idea, but we better find him before it starts to storm. I gotta feeling it won’t be long,” Gary said with frustration.

             The two young men hiked up the steep rocky bank back through the way they came. The wind blew harder and it started to sprinkle. They picked up their pace and arrived at the edge of the large meadow. Panning the high grass, they both spotted their father kneeling down in a wet muddy area far ahead of them. The scene was too distant for them to make out what he was doing with the naked eye so Gary revealed his binoculars once again from his satchel.

             “I wonder what’n the hell he’s doing squatting down like that,” Allan said dumbfounded.

             Gary focused on his father. His overall pant legs were wet and soiled. From what Gary could make out Steve was shaking and his face was wet. He was also holding something dark in front of him.

             “It’s a shoe,” Gary said puzzled.

             “What,” Allan said confused.

             “Dad’s kneeling down holding a dark sandal. It looks as though he’s crying too,” Gary said quietly.

             “What,” Allan said again in disbelief.

             “I don’t know what to make of it,” Gary said.

             A few seconds passed and the two brothers stood apart looking down at the ground contemplating what they should do. They did not want to startle their father because that would surely be awkward for the both of them. They had never seen their father cry before. As far as they knew, he was as tough as nails, impervious to the outside world.

             “Wow, I think I know why he’s crying. Do you remember Gram telling us the story of when mom lost her sandal in the mud?” Gary asked.

             “Nah, no I don’t. It was probably too long ago and I was too little to remember,” Allan said.

             “Yeah it was. But I remember. She said it was a warm summer day, kinda like this one and they were picking blackberries or raspberries in an open field like this. Even though the field was fenced in with barb wire, they didn’t think much of it. But what they were doing was picking berries in a bull’s pasture. So they were apart picking berries when a bull came snorting and pawing the ground, you know like they do when they’re mad. Mom saw it and got so scared she ran through some mud and lost her sandal. Dad being the guy he is wasn’t scared and walked out of the pasture with his berries, kinda daring the bull to charge him. Gram always said mom called dad the stupidest sonafabitch alive. But when dad saw mom lose her shoe and dive under the barbwire fence spilling all her berries, he just laughed uncontrollably. She was so mad at first and made dad go back in there and get her sandal, but then when he got it and brought it back to her they looked at each other and just laughed. So maybe that’s why he’s crying now,” Gary said slowly.

             “He misses mom more than you know,” Allan said sympathetically. 

             “Yeah, I guess so,” Gary said.

             The sprinkling rain had ceased and the sun came back out. It was a few minutes after twelve. Gary and Allan decided to return to the river and continue fishing, switching spots and entering into another silent but acknowledged competition.