|10/12/09 The River
every summer evening after 6:00 PM when Dad arrived home from work, we
would quickly eat supper. Sometimes it would be pancakes and sometimes
it would be fish, mostly Northern Pike. It's the Pike that we quickly
at supper for -- because that's where we'd go next: the Missouri River
We piled into the car, Dad, Mom, Bill, and me with all the fishing tackle and poles.
Dad would drive to a new place, or we'd go to a usual place. Anywhere we set up, the story would be the same, mostly.
and I would hit the sandy beaches downstream from Mom and Dad, who set
up their poles and ours and sat it their chairs sipping coffee waiting
for that bite.
and I would build sand castles, mounds of sand surrounded by the rivers
we would create. Sometimes, we'd dig deep holes and capture all the
new toads we could find, throwing them in the holes to watch how they
would climb over the top of one another to escape. At the end of the
evening, we would pull them all out and let them be free. Mom made
sure of that.
time, when I actually was watching my own fishing pole, the pole
dipped: once, then again. I grabbed the pole and waited for another by
the mysterious creature at the other end. Another Pike, no doubt. When
it tugged, I pulled back and began the reeling in of my catch. As it
tugged and I reeled, my dad stood by with the net. But when I yanked
that last tug and saw what was on the other end, I screamed and dropped
the pole. It was a young sturgeon, and they are the creepiest
"skeleton" fish I've ever seen. Ugh!