Father and Son

A father and son stood looking across Economy Lake, a large body of water approximately three miles long and one mile wide, situated north of the village of Bass River, Nova Scotia.

To get there, meant driving off the asphalt and heading into the Cobequid Hills. It was a perfect place to spend time together for a weekend. Their island destination was bearded with a scatter of pine trees a quarter of mile away on what looked like a pile of rocks protruding from the lake.

The man stretched out his arm and sighted down his thumb, almost making the image disappear. He wished he could, instead of being on this trip.

Coming home after work lately was painful an unsettlement almost raging out of control. He could barely put in a good day’s work trying to shake off dealing with a ‘pushy’ boss, mounting bills, and too often ended up picking on his wife. Seeing his son trying to understand, yet helpless watching a mom and dad’s love for each other begin to fall apart. A concerned father had to do something.

The baking sun could easily sap anyone’s energy and enthusiasm. But somehow, this trip had to be fun. His son Alex loved the outdoors. So here they were. The rubber dinghy was quickly inflated, then loaded with food. Sleeping bags and water joined the list of necessary items. Extra clothes, tent and flashlight also made the journey.

Three trips were made, father and son testing unused muscles, proud of what they were able to accomplish. Finally, everything needed was moved from the mainland. When a few waves lightly splashed over the sides, the father saw his twelve year-old son, Alex become fearful, then proud to see him settle down and continue paddling.

The boy knew this camping trip was really dad's idea. He said it might cool things off especially after yesterday’s shouting match with mom. Alex even heard mom talk about moving out, and taking him with her. It was too hard to talk about at home. He hoped the pain wouldn't be so bad out here in the woods.

Right now, it was bug-slapping time. It helped steer minds away from their problems. Black flies flew around, then up shirtsleeves until they struck pay dirt. Fresh blood was their prize. “Surely they must be related to vampires,” his father said.

Setting up their two-man pup tent went smoothly. The ground was carefully checked for rocks and twigs, then corners secured with a yellow peg. One aluminum pole on each end raised the tent to a height of about four feet. They made sure the guy lines were properly taut.

Alex and his family didn’t do much together anymore. Everyone’s energy was being drained with all the fighting and arguing. "Son, we have to get away, just the two of us. I think it's best for mom to have this weekend by herself." Alex knew dad was really worried about his family falling apart.

It didn’t help with Alex already a “worry-wart.” He studied as much spare time as possible, having straight ‘A’s’ in school. He worried about their family bills, and whether he helped mom enough around the house. It was a horrible thought, his parents maybe “splitting up.”

"Don’t be thinking so much, son" his dad said, sitting down beside Alex.

Alex tried to smile back. His mushroom haircut fluffed up in the wind. Tired looking blue eyes used to be full of sparkle on his tanned face. The sun's golden rays were hidden in his light brown hair. "Yah...sure," the boy slowly answered, dropping his head. Tears raced down his cheeks. He swiped at his eyes.

"Since everything's put away let's have a swim," his dad suggested. Faster than gulping back two hot dogs, father and son were in their bathing suits. Then shivered through water up to their waists, splashing every step of the way. Soon it was a free-for-all.

Mud balls and handfuls of grassy weeds went flying through the air. It was a “mucky” war. Gooey balls landed with “splats” creating muddy messes on backs and chests. Alex was the winner because he had better aim from pitching Little League baseball. Then he plopped a handful of mud and weeds on dad's head. "Now you have some hair!" he shouted.

“Nice to finally see you smile,” his father said, a clump of mud on his shoulder.

Hungry bellies called a truce. After washing up they changed into dry clothes. Thankfully, the wind blew just enough to keep the black flies away. Lunch was hot dogs, juice packs and Trail Mix. Alex made a super fireplace with flat stones. Father and son teamed up to collect firewood, and crackling flames soon followed. After tidying up, fishing rods were checked, life jackets put on. The rubber dinghy moved easily through the water as they paddled quickly to a small bay.

"I wish mom was here to see this," Alex said, looking around at the scenery.

"Yes son," dad answered. "I know she would enjoy it."

The water was inviting and another swim was on the menu since the fish weren't biting. It seemed only a short time before supper was finished and the sun was setting. The night was warm as father and son lay in their sleeping bags. "What are we going to do, dad?" Alex asked.

"Do you think it’s too late for your mom and I son?" his father answered. “I mean, I haven’t been the best husband lately, or dad,” he quickly added.

"Did you like the mud fight?" the boy asked, changing the subject.

"Yes," the man answered, feeling sadness well up within him. He wanted so much for this trip to be a break for both of them. But it didn’t seem to be working.

"And getting water in the dinghy when you tried to get out?" Alex laughed at that one. He could still see dad's face when his hip got soaked.

"Yes, that too," his father said, poking his son on the shoulder.

"Do you like being a father taking his son camping?" the boy asked suddenly.

The atmosphere was very tense. There was electricity in the air. The man realized words from his answer must be carefully chosen. "Yes I do. Boy, you talk a lot. Aren't you tired?" the man aasked, fighting for time to think.

"I'm too upset to sleep," the boy answered quietly, as he waited for an answer.

“I promise to try harder, son. When I married your mom, it was such a special time. And after you came along, I was extra happy.”

The boy heard the anguish in dad’s voice. "We both have to try harder. And I promise I will too."

The moon’s flashlight beam intruded through the doorway, interrupting their conversation like an invitation to a party. "Let’s check it out," Alex’s father whispered, hope in his voice.

Instead of the familiar “When I have time” whiny voice his dad heard so often before, there was silence. ”Okay dad, let’s do it,” the boy finally answered. Father and son left the comfort of sleeping bags and walked boldly across the cool ground. The shore was about twenty feet away.

They stood in bare feet under the moon. It was truly a beacon of white creating a path from lake to shore. Diamond sparkles shimmered on the water.

"This is what I call peaceful," Alex’s father said.

"Is mom going to stay or not?" the boy asked suddenly and rudely. He was tired of this beating around the bush, and turned to his father for an answer. “I’m just a kid, you know,” his eyes imploring.

The man fumbled for the proper words. "I really ... hope she will, son. In fact I know she will. She still loves us you know." A father and son stood with renewed hope as the big Dipper shone clearly above them.

"Why is it so bright?" Alex asked.

"There are no city lights to compete with in the middle of the woods," his dad answered. ”I really enjoy getting out like this. I used to tent out much more when I was your age.”

“We should come here again, dad. Mom too,” he added. As they headed back to their tent the call of a loon pierced the stillness. Its sounds rose and fell almost like a parade across the island, coming back as an echo of its existence.

"It sounds sort of lonely and happy at the same time," Alex said. It was exactly the way he felt this moment. At least this was an improvement, he thought.

After settling in their tent, dad told Alex something about loons. “Usually two baby chicks are born,” he said. “And both parents work hard to teach and protect their young.” Dad's voice was encouraging as Alex lay in the darkness. He almost missed hearing his dad say softly, "I’m sure she’ll be waiting for us, son."

Alex fought back tears before falling into a welcome sleep. He dreamed about that family of loons and how it used to be in his own home. “I love you dad,” he said, before falling asleep.

There was much more to come in the “Splash” of early morning waves. Other sounds traveled silently to his ears. It was like a dream that went on and on. Alex sat up. It wasn't a dream. He really did hear loons. And they were very close. He peered through the tent opening. His heart was hammering.

"Dad...oh dad," he whispered, barely able to breathe. Through the mist he actually saw two loons and two baby chicks. Dad’s story wasn’t just a fiction story to help a troubled boy sleep. Strange melodies began to circle their tiny island. Alex shook his dad awake. "Listen, listen," he said. Soon, father and son lay silently on their stomachs, watching through the tent opening.

A family of loons was indeed a beautiful sight. They swam back and forth alongside the shore, brushing lovingly against each other. Their cries rose eerily through the dawn. They sensed knowing they had an audience, and let loose with everything within.

An accolade of continuing calls was their parting message, and the family of four swam off into new adventures. Sun was like an egg yolk on the horizon. The boy turned and faced his father. "Dad, that was so cool," he said. Tears came rapidly, but Alex didn't care. "I’m worried about our family breaking up," he said quietly.

Being a good husband and father was not easy. But, he had to keep trying. "We can work together like the loons, son. Also, I promise to have a good talk with mom when we get home. You’ll see how much I can change," his father said.

The awesome hug Alex gave his father meant, "I believe you, dad."

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© Richard L. Provencher