Short Story About Fishing
Picture this.
It’s 4:15am on a Saturday morning.
You had a long hard week of 6th grade.
It’s even better.
Your dad creeps into your room dressed like a zookeeper and gently shakes you awake.
Does your dad like fishing?
Not that you’re aware.
But your grandfather loved it, and he died a year ago today.
He left your father his fishing poles and they’ve just been sitting in your garage ever since.
You roll out of bed, put on the stupidest clothes you have, and walk downstairs.
Your dad hands you a coffee.
He’s never done that before.
He smiles and says, “You know what they say, a fisherman needs his coffee!”
That’s definitely not what they say, but you don’t challenge it.
You’ve already accepted your fate.
You load the fishing gear into the back of the car and hit the road.
You:“So where are we headed, Dad?”
Dad:“My co-worker Jimmy has a boat docked on Indian Lake.
He said we can use anytime.”
You:“Isn’t Indian Lake 2 hours away?
Why don’t we just go to that pier in town?”
Dad:“Oh son, you have A LOT to learn about fishing.”
So you embark on your unexpectedly long car ride.
It’s still pitch black outside.
There’s an oldies station playing on the radio.
It’s actually a nice little moment.
you could tell your dad is impressed.
Aside from that it’s an uneventful drive.
You finally arrive at the boat.
It’s parked out back of your dad’s co-workers cabin.
“I could definitely get away with murdering my dad here” You think to yourself.
Not that you ever would.
You love your dad a lot.
It’s just a fleeting hypothetical thought that crossed your mind.
Nothing you gotta go to therapy about or anything.
You grab your poles and tackle box, and both climb into the tiny motor boat.
You dad asks you to start it up.
You:“What makes you think I know how to start a boat?
Your dad starts sifting through the tackle box.
Also you see him openly Googling how to start a boat.
You: “Does this boat even have gas?”
Dad: “I’m sure Jimmy keeps it filled up.”
You: “Why would you be sure of that?”
Dad:“One second let me finish up this work.”
Dad:“You wanna go old school huh, son?
Now you’re thinking like a fisherman.”
you could tell your dad is relieved.
That was almost really emasculating for him.
I mean.. it still kinda was.
But you played it off in a way that allowed him to keep a little dignity.
You go grab the oars.
You make it about 100 yards away from the dock when you decide it’s time to fish.
Luckily your grandpa had pre-humously strung the poles correctly, and they work great.
Your dad spends some time teaching you about the importance of what he calls “reel safety”.
When he was a kid his friend got a fish hook caught in his eyeball.
Pulled his eye clean out of his head.
Made a loud popping sound and everything.
The kid had to wear a eye patch for the rest of his life.
He made the best out of the situation by learning to talk like a pirate.
But still, you don’t want that happening to you.
You’re out on the boat forever.
The fish aren’t biting at all.
You’re so bored, and youreallywant to tell your dad about your hot teacher.
But once again you refrain.
You:“Did you pack us sandwiches or anything?”
Dad:“Nope, just almonds”
Your arms are tired.
You tell your dad that you think you’ve had enough fishing.
He seems discouraged, but he can’t help but agree.
It’s been 4+ hours on the lake without a single bite.
If grandpa were alive he’d call you both fishless pussies.
You decide to give your fishing pole one final cast.
You throw your line as far out into the lake as you possibly can.
And what do you know, you got a bite!
Dad:REEL SON!
REEL YOUR ASS OFF!
You reel your ass off, but it’s hard.
This fish must be huge.
He behavior makes reeling the fish in much more difficult.
The boat is rocking like crazy.
But you’re not deterred.
You’re locked in on the fish.
You have to bring it in.
You finally reel it in close enough yank it up out of the water with all you might.
The fish pops out of the lake and flops into the boat.
You begin to cheer.
Your dad has fallen to his knees and is weeping uncontrollably.
You caught your first fish.
It flops around on the floor of the boat, gasping desperately for water.
You were wrong about it being huge.
It’s very small.
But it’s undeniably a fish.
You:Can I keep it?
Dad:Of course!
You:Where do we put it?
Dad:You know what son, this is a good opportunity for a life lesson.
Or would you rather he return you back to earth?
Dad:That’s right.
Let’s throw your fish back into his home.
You:Doesn’t that hurt?
Dad:Fish don’t feel pain
You:Really?
Dad:I don’t know.
You:But what if I want a cool pic for my Tinder profile some day?
You paddle back to shore, dock the boat, and pack up your belongings.
Your dad has never been prouder.
And you helped him re-discover a love of fishing that you suspect he never had in the first place.
There’s nothing like fishing with your dad.
