Someone's Son Balance of Chapter 5
By Richard L. Provencher
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woods. He felt tired and sore as raspberry bushes easily pierced through his track pants.
Sheldon's father came up with the perfect solution.
He told him to climb onto his neck as he crouched down with his back to Sheldon. The boy thought it was silly, his father carrying him. He was sure he would be too heavy, but Sheldon was too exhausted to argue.
His father called it an 'elephant ride.'
"Hello down there. It's nice up here in the clouds!" he yelled out.
His father held his ankles tightly as they hiked along. The boy figured his dad must have a strong back.
It wasn't long before it was time to go home. He had a good time with his father today. The day ended too soon.
Before they parted, his father simply said, "Sorry for not writing you."
At least it was an answer.
The boys biked down an old country road, for some serious fishing. A large pond, created by a beaver dam, was hidden back in the woods. Now Troy peered beneath the sun-speckled surface.
He motioned Sheldon over, "Look!"
Sheldon tried to see below the surface. There they were. Six or seven 'brookies.' "Wow," he breathed. Black silhouettes swam in nervous confusion. This was a special spot Troy was showing him.
"Lookit the big fellow!" It darted off, startled by Sheldon's quick pointing.
Both boys searched through their jars of earth, seeking a juicy looking worm. It had been Sheldon's idea to come here to Cook's Brook, after school. He couldn't seem to get enough of trout fishing, these days. Especially after last Saturday's trip with his father.
"Got one!" Troy whooped. It was soon jigging and flying around as he lifted the trout out of the water.
Sheldon sprang into action. His mind was now in full concentration. He picked out a really juicy worm, careful not to squish it. Then he wound it around his #6 hook, just the right size for trout. He couldn't let Troy have all the fun. And besides Sheldon was the better fisherman. Especially after his father showed him some new tricks.
He made sure the barb pierced the soft body, so the fish would get caught without just stealing the bait. Experience was a good teacher. He picked out a spot near Troy and prepared himself. Arm back, making sure his golden spinner wasn't tangled, he swung forward thumb lifting off the spin cast reel control.
Just as the line slapped the water he pressed his thumb back onto the control button, stopping the line. Worm on hook with spinner disappeared below the surface. A current moved out from where his bait hit, inviting any nearby trout for dinner.
"Nice cast," Troy called out.
"Real nice cast," echoed Sheldon. Practice paid off. His reward was a nine-inch trout.
The boys managed to catch three more nice ones. Of course, Sheldon caught the biggest one. As he kept bragging it up Troy began to get a little hot under the collar. Troy didn't like being teased. He enjoyed competition, but he was a poor loser and didn't like being beaten at anything.
Sheldon cut more ferns for his creel, carefully placing the fish between them. Then he dipped the bottom half of the creel into cool water. The moisture would help keep the fish firm, until they returned home.
Larry taught him that.
"Let's go for a swim!" piped up Troy. “
“The water’s too cold,” Sheldon said.
"Come on, chicken."
"I didn't bring my swim trunks."
"Come on Sheldon, don't be a jerk.
“Let’s go in our underwear, awright? What a wuss!" Troy mocked as he slipped out of his jeans. "Last one in is a…"
Sheldon quickly kicked off his sneakers, splashed water on his face and jumped in, clothes and all.
Troy was upset Sheldon had beat him in. He dove into the water, not checking for rocks or anything and swum under Sheldon. It didn't occur to him it was a dangerous habit.
"Hey, leggo! What are you doing?" was all Sheldon could yell before he was raised up out of the water and flipped. For a few minutes the boys thrashed around in splashing horseplay. Both friends wrestled in earnest. Their screams and taunts echoed loudly from shore to shore.
As they lay on the shore later, they stared up at the sky, arms folded behind their heads. Clouds formed twisting patterns.
"Sheldon?"
"Huh?"
"Hey, you there man?" Troy asked.
"Why?" Sheldon shot back.
"Come on, don't be such a dope. Is something bugging you? You don't talk much lately."
"I'm not a dope. Stop calling me that!" Sheldon shouted. He raised himself up on one elbow and glared at his friend.
"Dope. Dope."
"I said..."
"Dope. Dope. Dope. Boy, did I touch a nerve. What's the matter, eh? Can't take it?"
"OK, Troy. I give up. Can't a guy even think? Listen how quiet it is, for once in your life. Stop horsing around," he said. "Might do you good being quiet for a few minutes," Sheldon added under his breath.
"You're always thinking. It's weird man." Troy said.
"Alright what is it? I'm listening."
"Know why I don’t like your friend, Mr. Reynolds?”
"Larry? Why?" Sheldon asked, astonished.
"'Cause he's an old fart!" was followed by Troy's giggle.
"Who says so?" Sheldon turned on his side and furrowed his brow.
"Well..." Troy hesitated.
"Come on, spill it out!" Sheldon insisted.
"Well...I don't like the way he talks to people about me. I heard he said I was a juvenile delinquent. And how come they let me out of the Training School?"
"That's awful," Sheldon said. "Why would Larry tell anyone that? Are you sure that's what he said?"
"I suppose he didn't like me throwing snowballs at his house last winter," Troy said smugly. "Every time I walked by his house."
"Why'd you do that?"
"Because it's fun."
"No wonder he thinks you're a delinquent."
"Don't get smart. I wish he'd take me places too. Not just you. I don't have a dad either, you know."
"Come on Troy. Don't take it so personal. And your problem is, you've got a short fuse. Besides, you're just jealous he likes me better."
"No kiddin'," Troy shot back, sullenly. His lips were trembling and there was a mean scowl on his square face.
Sheldon was afraid to say much more.
"Bug off, man. Get off my case, I'm warning you." Troy looked like he was ready to tackle a bear.
"Holy smokes, you're cranky today. Let's call it, okay? Like, hit the road or something."
"You got it," and Troy jumped up without another word. He pulled on his pants over his wet underwear and headed through the woods to their bikes. His soggy T-shirt was balled and he whipped his running shoes ahead of himself.
"Now I'm in for it." Sheldon sighed. "Can't a friend even speak his mind without getting stomped on?" Sheldon wanted Mr. Reynolds to continue to be his friend. Even if his dad took him out every Saturday. He'd also warn Larry to be careful. That Troy could be awfully mean.
Would Larry take advice from a kid?
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Comments
I don't know why, but part of
I don't know why, but part of me feels sorry for Troy, he seems to be a troubled boy that's in need of help.
Still continuing to enjoy.
Jenny.
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