by Douglas Young<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After lunch the family sat on the back porch chatting leisurely, watching who was walking down the street, and speaking to those they knew. Everyone was shelling peas from the garden except the grandfather and his grandsons. The three-year-old was on the floor playing with little race cars while the six-year-old sat next to their grandfather, often looking up at him. Their grandmother, mother, and aunt were discussing the morning\u2019s sermon, who was at church and how they looked, and who was not there and perhaps why. Their father and uncle were quietly comparing notes about national politics.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The old man sat pensively at the end of the porch, gazing at his backyard and smoking a filter-less Camel cigarette. The older grandson studied his smoking ritual, fascinated by a habit he didn\u2019t see nearly as often in the city where he lived. The cloud of smoke slowly swirling about the big man seemed to shroud him in mystery. He was content to remain in his own thoughts, seemingly oblivious to his young kin\u2019s stares.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDid y\u2019all see how high Alchemilla Austin\u2019s skirt was this morning?\u201d The boys\u2019 aunt eagerly looked at the adults. \u201cIf it\u2019d been much higher, we\u2019d a seen her underwear.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boys\u2019 grandmother winced. \u201cThe outfits some folks wear to God\u2019s house these days,\u201d she remarked softly as the boys\u2019 mother looked down at her container of peas and chuckled.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI do believe Miss Alchemilla may be a husband-hunting,\u201d the boys\u2019 aunt pronounced. \u201cI reckon she figures she\u2019s been divorced long enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The ladies continued speculating about the length and propriety of Ms. Austin\u2019s skirt while the men spoke of the next presidential election. The younger boy remained ensconced racing his cars while his brother alternated between watching the birds in the yard and glancing at his grandfather still staring ahead and occasionally taking a drag off his cigarette.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When the discussion of the sins of Alchemilla\u2019s dress was exhausted, the aunt recalled the outfit of another parishioner at the morning worship service.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOooh, and what about Dianella Dickinson\u2019s top, y\u2019all?\u201d The aunt\u2019s mouth remained open for a couple of seconds. \u201cDid you see all the cleavage that gal was showing? Gracious. If I hadn\u2019t seen her in church with my own eyes, I\u2019d a thought she was part of some burlesque show.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWell, young folks are showing more these days.\u201d Her sister shook her head, smiled, and grabbed more peas.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s right hard to believe her parents would tolerate that,\u201d their mother noted.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMaybe she\u2019s a husband-hunting herself,\u201d the grandfather suddenly spoke up, sighed, and leaned forward to discern the whereabouts of the loud crow cawing from somewhere high up in the pecan tree.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All discussion of Miss Dickinson\u2019s dress ceased as the daughters grinned at each other, looked into their buckets of peas, and shelled a little faster. Their mother\u2019s eyes had not left hers in several minutes.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The old man stubbed his cigarette and quietly left the porch, descending the backdoor steps and crossing the yard. His older grandson\u2019s eyes followed him intently as the old man went into the toolshed where he remained for a few minutes.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He emerged with a shotgun and walked toward the big pecan tree thirty yards in front of the porch. There he stood looking up as the squawks of a crow continued to be heard. Slowly he raised his gun almost directly above his head.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His elder grandson grew mesmerized by the spectacle, only now realizing his grandfather was about to shoot something.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For a minute, there was a pause between squawks. All the while the old man continued holding the gun vertically, remaining as still as one of his hunting dogs pointing at the prey.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His six-year-old grandson leaned forward on the edge of his seat, completely focused on his grandfather. He then stood by the screen and looked up at the tree limbs but only saw leaves.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His brother remained playing with his cars as the adults continued their conversations, dividing glances between each other and their peas. All were oblivious to the drama in the yard.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After failing to find a bird in the tree-top, the boy by the screen looked back at his grandfather. The loud sounds of the crow could be heard again.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At the boom of the shotgun blast, the boy jumped.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cGood Lord, Daddy, you trying to wake the dead?\u201d His aunt asked quietly as she looked up from her peas.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI expect he\u2019s after whatever crow\u2019s been eating his corn,\u201d the boys\u2019 mother replied.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI do wish he wouldn\u2019t do that on the sabbath,\u201d the grandmother lamented softly.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWell, Mother, I expect the crows are still eating corn on the sabbath too,\u201d the boys\u2019 mother noted.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 With his eyes wide and mouth agape, the older boy saw his grandfather gradually lower his gun and start back toward the toolshed.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 With a thud, a large black crow hit the grass. The boy was slightly startled, and his face leaned closer to the screen. He looked at his grandfather as he disappeared into the shed. The old man was pushing 80, a little over six feet tall, and just over 200 pounds. But he emerged from the shed looking like a giant to his grandson.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The little fellow suddenly turned to the rest of his relatives to gauge their reaction to the stunning scene that had just unfolded before them, but the ladies remained absorbed in local gossip and the gentlemen appeared content with their national version. No one noticed the dead bird in the yard.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boy ran to the screen door just as his grandfather got back inside. The old man held it open for him and the boy stopped for a second to look up at him. Then he ran to the bird in the grass. For such a noisy crow, it sure is quiet now, he thought while inspecting it intently.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNow don\u2019t touch it. That thing\u2019s filthy,\u201d his mother called from the porch. \u201cYou hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, ma\u2019am,\u201d he replied without looking up. He had never seen a bird so close and marveled that he couldn\u2019t find any blood. He looked at it a long time before recognizing the songs of a mockingbird perched on a limb not far away. But he heard no more crows.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He went back to his chair on the porch and had not been sitting long when his grandfather called him from the screen door.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWant to go fishing, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boy immediately turned to his parents with wide eyes and a big smile. His mother looked at his father who nodded back and smiled at the boy.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHave fun fishing, son, and do what Papa says.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, sir,\u201d he answered and jumped out of his chair.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cGo catch Mamaw a great big fish and she\u2019ll cook it for you.\u201d His grandmother winked at him.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0He raced outside to catch up with his grandfather as the old man loaded the bed of his blue pick-up truck with a can of worms, the tackle box, a rod and reel for himself, and the smallest cane pole for his grandson.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t know how comfortable I am if they go out in the boat,\u201d the mother said, turning to her husband. \u201cDaddy\u2019s older now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLet the boy go fishing with his granddaddy, honey. He can swim now and your father\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI want to go fishing,\u201d the three-year-old announced as his relatives smiled at him.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAnd before long, you\u2019ll be big enough too.\u201d His father assured him. \u201cWe couldn\u2019t let your brother go fishing yet when he was your age, but pretty soon you\u2019ll be big enough to go with them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Not entirely sure he approved of the situation, his aunt intervened.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve got a chocolate bar for somebody if he\u2019ll come over here and help me with these peas.\u201d She looked at him with a grin.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThank you, dear,\u201d his mother said under her breath and grabbed more peas.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The six-year-old eagerly climbed into the pickup\u2019s cab and breathed deeply to absorb its unique smell. He didn\u2019t know how to describe it but knew it was a scent unlike any other in his experience.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His grandfather got in, cranked up the vehicle, and drove out the dirt driveway in the direction of his 200-acre farm known to the family as \u201cthe Place.\u201d The boy\u2019s feet didn\u2019t reach the floor and he used both hands to roll down the window since the old truck had no air-conditioning.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He counted all the fox ears tied together on the dashboard to see if any had been added since his last truck ride. But what most got his attention \u2013 as always \u2013 were the long rattles on the dashboard.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPapa, may I please hold the rattles?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The old man nodded and lit a cigarette as the boy gently picked them up and began counting the rings. He imagined the longer one with 12 rings as belonging to a giant rattlesnake even longer than his grandfather.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As he shook the rattles, he envisioned scenarios in which the old man slayed the deadly serpents, each one ever more breathtaking. The boy turned to watch his grandfather as he calmly steered the wheel with one hand while casually tapping ashes out the window with the other.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The farther from the little town they got, the more the winding two-lane highway became embraced by farms with lots of cattle grazing by the road.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLook at them scrawny-boned cattle, boy.\u201d The old man gestured. \u201cNowhere near as big and fat as Papa\u2019s cows.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boy nodded appreciatively and made careful note of this as they veered into the Place. Now all the black Angus and Herefords loomed positively huge.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As they wound their way down the beaten path toward the lake, the boy was lost in shaking the rattles and occasionally admiring the big cows. His grandfather stared ahead and silently sized up the state of his land.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When they parked by the 12-acre lake which the old man dug many years before, the boy put up the rattles and jumped out of the truck as his grandfather loaded their gear into his old green boat.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Motioning for him to get in, the boy eagerly climbed in the boat as the old man shoved it into the water, got in, and lifted the paddle to row them to his favorite fishing spots. When they arrived at a good locale, he put down the oar and each baited his hook and cast his line.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boy admired how adept his grandfather was at casting and was amazed how far he could throw his line. But he was more captivated by his own red and white float in the water, sitting on the edge of his seat and hoping a fish would take the bait. His grandfather lit a cigarette and looked ahead at his own float. Before long he reeled in a decent-sized bream. Then another, and then another. The boy marveled at how easily his grandfather caught each fish.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Now three fish behind, he turned back to his own float, desperately hoping he could catch something. And then his float started to jump just a bit. Excited, he quickly lifted the cane pole but only saw his worm at the end of the line.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNot yet, boy. Wait until it goes all the way under.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As the sun got hotter, the old man paddled them into the shade near the shore under some large oak trees. The boy got more bites but, instead of catching a fish, lost his worm. His grandfather continued to reel in several good-looking bream, as well as a couple of bass.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Growing more frustrated, his grandson started thinking of the rattles again when his float bobbed and went underwater where it stayed.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNow, boy,\u201d his grandfather instructed him with a raised voice that startled the child. He quickly began to lift the pole, but the fish put up a ferocious fight and remained underwater.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLift him, boy,\u201d came the command, and the boy stood up and pulled with all his might. To his delight, he hauled a handsome red belly bream out of the water, and his grandfather took hold of the line and handed the fish to him.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boy was elated and alternated looking at his catch and his grandfather. The fish tried to shake itself loose as the boy proudly held up the line to inspect his catch from every angle.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The hard part came when he tried to unhook it. The fins atop the fish were sharp and the boy kept hesitating each time his catch tried to jump. Finally, the old man took the fish and unhooked him.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s nothing to be scared of, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The grandson quickly threaded another worm on his hook. He didn\u2019t look at his grandfather for some time. Instead, he cast his line on most sides of the boat, determined to catch more. Soon he hooked another one and this time brought it into the boat on his own. It was a big bluegill bream and the boy beamed when his grandfather nodded. This time the child put the fish on the floor of the boat and then put his shoe on top of it, enabling him to unhook it without getting cut.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The old man picked up the fish and attached it to the rope holding the rest of their catch in the water. The boy began to dream of the day he got big enough to use a rod and reel.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s the biggest fish you ever caught, Papa?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Exhaling smoke, his grandfather began to reel in his line.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLikely a bass.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHow much did it weigh? Ten pounds?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After a pause, \u201cFive or Six.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The boy noticed his float dancing. But it wouldn\u2019t go under, and he recalled his grandfather\u2019s instructions about when to pull up the cane pole.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhy won\u2019t he take it, Papa?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMaybe she\u2019s just flirting with you. Or it\u2019s a little bitty fellow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The instant the float went all the way under, the boy jerked the pole up and pulled in a very small bream. Excited, he announced he had now caught six. Though his grandfather had caught at least twice as many \u2013 and several larger ones \u2013 the boy noted it now took two hands to count all the fish he caught that day.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But just when he unhooked his catch and handed it to his grandfather, the old man tossed it in the water. Stunned, the boy looked up at him.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019s too small. We need to let him grow up \u2013 like you. You\u2019ll catch him later when he\u2019s all grown up and then he\u2019ll be a right big fellow, sure enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The old man put down his rod and reel and began paddling back to the shore by the truck. His grandson was disappointed but determined to truthfully tell everyone he really caught six.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All the way back to his grandparents\u2019 house, the boy studied the bucket of fish, marveling at all the red bellies, yellow bellies, bluegills, and bass while trying to determine which ones he caught. When they arrived home, he raced inside to show everyone all the fish and point out the ones he hooked. A fine fish fry was held for supper and the boy tried to be sure to eat a couple he caught.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All the adults but his grandfather did a lot of talking at the dinner table, but the boy paid little attention. He relived the exciting adventures with the crow and the fishing and wondered when he would be big enough to get his own rod and reel, as well as a bb gun.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Before too late that evening, as his family was getting in the car to head home, the aunt called the six-year-old to his grandfather\u2019s truck. When he arrived, the old man took his hand and put the two rattles in it. The boy blinked and looked up with a surprised smile.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThank you, Papa.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The old man nodded, smiled, and patted his head as he walked back to the house.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, now won\u2019t you have something to share in school tomorrow for show and tell.\u201d His aunt laughed.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After embracing his aunt and grandmother goodbye, he ran to the car to show off his new prizes. His parents persuaded him to give one to his brother, and both boys proceeded to shake the rattles much of the drive home, a development not entirely comforting to everyone in the car.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Douglas Young \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After lunch the family sat on the back porch chatting leisurely, watching who was walking down the street, and speaking to those they knew. Everyone was shelling peas from the garden except the grandfather and his grandsons. The three-year-old was on the floor playing with little race cars while the six-year-old […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1566,77],"tags":[1565,1567,1123],"class_list":["post-14245","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-72","category-english","tag-douglas-young","tag-egophobia-72","tag-english"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3HL","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14245","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14245"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14245\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14246,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14245\/revisions\/14246"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14245"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14245"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14245"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}