Run Danny Run (Chap. 9 Conclusion)

He carefully checked over his collection of spinners. Red and white as well as yellow and green combinations suggested he had an arsenal to fool any rainbow trout. Did fish actually get tricked just because he offered them a variety of colors and shapes?

Some of his lures had feathers and hooks. Better bait might be one of the two-dozen juicy looking dew worms he collected from their lawn a few nights ago.

            Dad taught him how to catch them. "Use the edge of a flashlight beam," Larry had said. "And look for their stretched out bodies on top of the soil. Then grab them before they get away!"

            Larry would then pinch his son on the arm and the two of them would wrestle and tumble around on the living room floor.

            Walt really loved his dad. He was more like a pal, or an older brother like Roy. Except Roy wasn't around much. He spent most of his time in Halifax and hardly came to visit anymore. Maybe if Walt had paid more attention to Roy, Larry wouldn't be so interested in another son.

            Most of the time Walt called him, "Dad," instead of Larry. His new dad liked that. “Dad, when are we going fishing? Dad, I'm going to catch the biggest, hugest, monster fish in this lake!" Walt liked to say the “Dad” word and act out his statements. Maybe one day he'd even hitchhike to Hollywood and become an actor and be famous...

            "Whom are you talking to, son?"

            Walt almost fell into his pile of lures and hooks scattered around his legs. "You scared me. Were you listening?"

            "Sorry and yes."

            "Dad?"

            "That's me."

            "Want to fish?"

            "Right now?"

            "Yup."

            "First, dishes, then fishing. Didn't you hear me calling?"

            "I know, but it was so nice and quiet. Not like the noisy Friday traffic in Truro. I had to stay a while longer." Walt continued to stare across the water, his head tilted at an angle, as if wanting to ask a question. "Ok dad. Work first."

            Later they did go fishing.

*

How come some dads never spend enough time with their sons before they grow up? Walt wondered. Like watching baseball games, or going fishing like Larry does with him. Sometimes it was important for just the two of them to be together. Good for me my dad does, the boy thought.

            Walt stood on the old wharf, fishing rod in his hand. Squinting eyes scanned a parade of waves rolling in against the shore. His hand lifted back in a long gentle arc, then swung forward. He released his thumb from the control, watching the monofilament line streak across the lake’s surface. Plop of lure, shiny along the bottom, then retrieval. No fish this time.

But, it felt good to know dad was standing beside him, watching.

After all, he did teach his son to do it just right.

The man was so proud of his new son. Goose bumps on Larry’s neck rippled as he admired the lean young man a short distance away. Walt was growing so straight and tall in his blue and white t-shirt and GWG jeans. Dark brown hair was blowing in the wind.

            My very own son, Larry thought. And I love him so much.

            Is there room for another child in our home? He wondered.