That's a start. One more for me, and one for Rusty.
Brad flicked the fly back into the water.
He hadn't expected to catch a fish from under the log. Before he had caught them where his fly was now drifting in an arc with the current into the undercut of the ledge. The arc snapping out of the leader and the sudden dipping of the willow pole were the only warnings that a larger than normal trout had struck his fly. He never saw a flash of its off-white belly before the hungry fish rolled under and inhaled the small feathered concoction.
Brad jerked against the tugging and in his excitement sent the trout sailing across the creek while the fly it had spit out snapped past his ear. He dropped the pole and in two jumps from rock to rock he was across the stream and grabbing for the slippery trout. It was flipping and struggling between the rocks to get back into the icy water. Brad finally slipped a finger into its gills. He carried the trout up away from the creek and set it safely beside the smaller fish he had caught only a moment before. The big trout had a deep belly and thick slab-sides which made it a meal in itself.
That one has got to be almost a half pounder.
It was just a short way further down the hill to a small flat where, hidden amongst some chest-high boulders that lined this side of the creek, Brad had built a stone fireplace. Here in the moist creek bottom he could have a fire anytime year round.
While the fire popped and crackled its way into a bed of coals, Brad gutted the fish and rinsed them off in the cold water. He cut two lengths of willow from the butt end of his fishing pole. On each of these eighteen inch lengths of stick he hung a split trout. When the flames of his fire died down he propped the fish over the bed of fresh coals and let them roast.
Brad sat in the only patch of bright sun penetrating the thick foliage. He had his back against a small sun warmed boulder. His dog was stretched out next to him panting quietly in the shade. Both of their bellies were full of trout and the Baker's semi-sweet chocolate that Brad had swiped from his mother's kitchen. He kept a store of chocolate and some salt in the survival pouch hanging on his belt.
"Come on dog! Let's go!"
His friend was on her feet her tail wagging exuberantly before Brad got a chance to move. Instantly she was running upstream towards the spot she knew Brad would across the dirt road.
"What have you been doing today? You look beat."
Brad hadn't quite made it to the highway before he met Charlie.
"I went up and checked the stock. They kicked the spring full of dirt again."
"I know. They keep stomping the bank down into it. I guess we'll have to take the tractor up there and make the whole spring bigger and shape the bank so the dirt won't fall in.
"Get in. I'll give you a ride home. I have to go by Joanna’s this afternoon. You might as well go with me and we'll do it now."
"What Joanna?"
"Bishop of course."
Brad stood in silence for several seconds leaning on the driver's door looking off into the mountains.
"Are you going to get in, or are you going to walk home?"
Brad turned towards his friend before speaking.
"You mean the teacher? Miss Bishop? From Wilmet? He asked Charlie before hollering at his dog.
"Rusty! Get in the car stupid!" Brad held the door open for his dog before he flopped down onto the front seat and closed the door.
"Since when have you been visiting Joanna Bishop, Charlie?"
"Yes, Joanna Bishop, Wilmet High School math teacher. Ever since you introduced us at Joslin's hardware store last month".
Charlie turned away with a smile and started his new-used 1950 4-door Ford.
"You going to Wilmet with me or not?"
Not waiting for an answer Charlie backed the car around in the narrow gravel road and started back the way he had come.
"What time is the cookout at Simpson's tomorrow? Joanna said you would know."
"So that's why you traded cars. You wanted something sharp and cool to impress a school teacher with. Is your mother still pissed off about it?"
"She is always, as you so indelicately put it, 'pissed off'. It doesn't matter what I buy or who I see, she gets upset. I'm afraid this time she is in for a long siege of being 'pissed off'.
"I thought she was mad just because you bought the car. Did you tell her you were going out with someone?"
"I think your mother told her, Brad. Somebody did anyway. Right after Joanna and I stayed overnight in Boston on her birthday."
"The Saturday night when I helped your sister milk? That weekend?"
"Yes. That's when I came home to cold stares."
"Ha-ha! That's funny!"
"What's so damn funny about that?"
"The afternoon, when your sister picked me up to help her, my mother told her you had a hot date with some woman you had picked up in Mack's Tavern!"
"I have never been in that low life beer joint much less picked someone up there! Damn! No wonder they were so mad!
"So what time should we be at Simpson's?"
"Ginny said they don't go to church. It wouldn't be any big deal anytime after lunch. "Who else is going? Anyone you know, Charlie?"
"Joanna didn't say, she just called me at work and asked if I wanted to go with her. How come you're going?" Charlie asked warmly with a big grin. "I didn't know you had a girl friend, much less the two Simpson girls. You could do a lot worse. But both?"
Brad ignored Charlie and his question. He hid his embarrassment by turning to look out the side window.
"We should drop your dog off, and tell your folks where you’re going.
Shouldn't we? Isn't that what you want?" Charlie persisted.
He could feel Charlie watching him and since Charlie was driving well below the speed limit Brad knew his friend was waiting for him to talk. Charlie could always tell when he had something on his mind and needed to talk.
"I-I'd." Brad turned back to the window.
"Did I say something wrong, Brad? If I did, I'm sorry."
"No, it isn't you. I don't want to tell anybody at home about going to Simpson's tomorrow. I'm just going to lie. I don't think my folks like the Simpsons. My dad called Mrs. Simpson a ‘Jap whore,' when Elinor was in high school. And my mother told me Elinor wasn't worth my time and getting kicked out of school fighting about her.
"So I haven't said anything about her being home and me going over there. To their house."
"I'm sorry, Brad. You're probably smart not to say anything to your mom and dad about the Simpson's then."
"Can you just tell my folks we're going to Joanna’s?"
The Ford picked up speed and Brad heard the automatic transmission shift into third gear.
"I think we can do that." Charlie answered quietly.
They rode in silence until Brad's house came into view.
"Can I drive your car someday?'
"Tomorrow." Charlie answered absently as he pulled into the Burgess's driveway.
"Don't worry about your clothes tomorrow. No one will care if you don't wear new clothes to a cookout.
"And why don't you meet Joanna and I at the old grist mill about noon. We'll eat lunch and go for a swim before we go to Simpson's. Okay?"
Brad nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes. He slammed the car door before turning and running for the house with his dog at his heels.
"I'll be right out!" He hollered back over his shoulder.
NINE
When he hauled Big Ben out of his front pocket, Brad could not believe it was about 1130. For almost four hours he had been fishing his favorite holes downstream along the railroad right-of-way on the two mile stretch between Lynd and the ruins of the old grist mill where he was going to meet his friends at the millpond.
He had caught ten or twelve trout but kept only the five largest and each was a native weighing about a half pound or more. He watched them lazily drifting against the current wit
h a rawhide lace through their gills.
Charlie is always on time I'll bet he and Joanna are at the millpond waiting for me. Brad's mind was busy as he climbed the steep bank from the creek to the railroad track. Staying on the tracks until he reached the gravel road where he was only a quarter of a mile from the millpond.
He turned the corner at the top of the hill where all that remained of the old grist mill was the huge foundation stones next to the road. He looked to see if Charlie's Ford was parked by the pond. It wasn’t there, so Brad decided to cut across the pile of head-high stones to the millrace and try his luck in the swift water below the dam. This spot managed to produce several nice trout each year but so far this year the several he had caught there were barely big enough to keep.
He had only gone a few feet into the rocks, where the roar of the water rushing down the granite millrace started to block out every other sound. The thumps and clatter of the covered bridge's loose plank decking barely reached him and he turned back to the road as he sensed rather than heard an engine. When he reached the shoulder of the road he knew it was a slow moving Ford.
There was no mistaking the light green of Charlie's new/used Ford. When it pulled up along side him the first things Brad noticed were her deep brown eyes and soft smile.
“How come you’re coming from that direction?”
"Hi, Brad. Are you getting hungry? You'd better be, we brought a huge lunch.
"We also brought along a friend of yours. That’s why we came this way."
Joanna’s bright smile always reflected her moods, but Brad really didn't notice. His eyes were drifting between the pixie-cut hair and soft smile in the back seat.
"I do believe you two know each other. Come on, someone say something. Anything. Anything at all." Joanna Bishop was as persistent as she was soft hearted.
"Hi, Brad. Catch any this morning?" Ginny slid forward on the seat and rested her chin on the back of Joanna’s seat. Her eyes were intent when she looked Brad in the eye waiting for an answer.
"I've got five real nice ones."
"Think you could catch two more this afternoon? If you can, I'll fix them on the barbecue for us tonight."
"I can try. Two more shouldn't be hard to catch out of the millpond. Want to do it now? I was just going to try it at the foot of the dam."
"I'm hot and hungry. Let's go for a swim first. If anybody wants to go fishing they can do it after lunch. Okay, kids?" Joanna spoke up before she turned to Charlie and tossed her ponytail. Brad had seen her do it many times when she was being playful.
"I'm all for it. I'd like to get cooled off before lunch." Charlie answered. "Got your swim trunks on, Brad?"
Brad stood next to a dark, nearly black hunk of granite where he could sit to take off his wet hunting boots. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of having worn his nearly new school pants fishing so his friends wouldn't see the worn out dungarees he wore most of the time.
He hitched his yellow plaid swim trunks up to his waist when he went around the front of the car and started towards the path leading to his favorite swimming spot.
Ginny slammed the back car door and followed him towards the pond.
Brad took exactly three steps in front of the Ford when he sucked in his breath and stopped dead in his tracks.
She had taken off the old shirt which was probably her father's, and Ginny had on a tight one piece black swimsuit. Her legs were long, slim and about the color of amber. Her womanly hips were set off by her tiny waist which Brad was sure he could easily circle with his hands. Her breasts were not nearly as small as he had imagined. The tight, low cut black suit showed a woman's cleavage which never showed in her modest school clothes.
She has grown up. What a build. He thought to himself.
Ginny walked towards him with the soft feminine Simpson smile on her full pink lips. She held out her left hand to Brad when she reached the front of the Ford.
"Come on, show me where to go in."
Brad knew he shouldn't stare but he couldn't contain himself. At that moment he had fallen hopelessly in love with Ginny Simpson and there was no doubt he lusted for her body.
Standing next to him she was creating feelings in him like a graduation into puberty. The heat of his desire made his whole body hot and clammy and his thoughts were out of his control.
"You live around the corner but don't know where to swim? You're kidding, right?" Brad took her hand and started up the path running along the creek bank.
Sixty or seventy feet further up the bank was a big box-elder with huge branches overhanging the millpond. A piece of big fat manila rope with several big knots tied in it was hanging from one of the tree's larger branches. It made a fantastic swing and was a fast non-retreating way of getting into the cold water of the mill pond.
With a small laugh Ginny let herself be led towards the tree.
Her hand felt small and delicate in his; Brad felt protective of this lovely creature.
"I just moved here last winter. Remember? I never had anyone to show me around before now. Come on! Last one in is a sissy!"
"You guys coming, Charlie?"
"We'll be there in a minute, Brad!
Brad turned back toward the car in time to see Joanna step into Charlie's arms.
Brad stepped up to the edge of the pond and untangled the rope from the bushes before climbing up onto a boulder under the box-elder.
"Like this!" He hollered when he leaped from the boulder and swung out over the water.
The cold was mind numbing as he entered the millpond feet first. The black water closed over his head. He went straight down almost twice his height before rolling head over heels and going down headfirst groping for the bottom. At ten feet the water was so black he could barely see his own out thrust hands. The bright June sun never seemed to penetrate more than six or seven feet of this tannic laden stream.
He felt the familiar slow burn as it started in his esophagus and spread in both directions. Brad's nostrils felt like they were on fire long before the pain and fire in his lungs told him that in a very short time he would have to surface.
He took one extra thrust with his legs, and a last strong pull with his arms before he gave up.
God, that hurts. Let out some air. Just a little. That's enough. I'm not going to make it back up to the top.
It was just a hint of panic. It wasn't dangerous, not yet, but Brad was confused and scared.
Where's up! Which way is the top.
Near the bottom and looking down and to the side had made him lose what little sense of direction he had kept in his descent.
Follow your bubbles. That's up, air always rises.
Brad remembered the advice from a movie about the Navy frogman he had seen not long ago. He forced his head upward as he exhaled more of his precious air to follow it up.
Above him he could barely see the sun flashing on the tiny waves which were rippling across the surface.
His head broke through the wall of silver in an explosion of expelled air and gulps of desperation as he tried to suck the hot oxygen loaded air down into his lungs.
Right over his head the rope was still swinging slowly. Three quick strong strokes took him back to the bank and Ginny.
"Oh, that looks like fun. Did you go to the bottom? You were under so long!" Ginny clapped her hands and did a little dance around the base of the tree while Brad clambered up the rocks onto the bank.
Brad struggled to control his breathing, so he wouldn't sound like an panting dog when he answered her.
"I can't touch bottom in this hole. Nobody I know ever has. It's really deep."
"Help me up on the rock, I can't wait to try it'."
Brad put his right hand on Ginny's waist to help her get onto the steep sided boulder. His hand slid off her waist and down onto the tight stretched nylon covering her bottom. He couldn't move his hand, it was stuck like a magnet to her young fir
m body. She rose onto the top of the rock and turned towards him. His fingers traced a gentle path across her shapely behind before dropping down onto her thigh when she leaned towards him.
With a soft smile and gentle pressure against his hand, Ginny turned back in the direction of the millpond. "Give me the rope, Brad. I can't wait to do it!" She smiled down on him.
"Let's eat, kids!" Charlie hollered from the car. He had just climbed out of the water further downstream. There was more sun and the shallower water was warmer there.
"That means you too, Lady!"
Joanna was lazily swimming the length of the millpond. She stopped to raise her head out of the water and stuck her tongue out at him. "Bring me a sandwich, Lover!" She hollered back across the pond.
As he slipped the khaki pants back over his almost dry swim suit Brad felt the warm glow of friendships like he had never felt before while he watched the women pick up the remains of their lunch. Joanna had given him a jean jacket she no longer wanted, and Ginny had confiscated it to wear over her wet swim suit. He watched her bottom move under the short jacket when she stooped and picked up her tennis shoes and threw them into the trunk along with her father's old dress shirt.
"Don't let me forget these, Brad."
"OK. Are you guys going fishing with me or what?" Brad asked.
Brad picked up his fishing pole and start toward the millpond. Ginny followed and he felt her hand grasp his and walk closely behind him.
Charlie and Joanna left for the Simpson's house leaving Ginny and Brad to finish catching supper. Joanna waved happily when they drove off and turned to Charlie saying something which made him laugh and look towards Ginny and Brad on the dam.
With three more nice square tails added to their stringer Brad thought about going across the upper millpond instead of walking all the way around to the road and crossing the creek on the covered bridge.
"Do you want to go across the dam, Ginny? We'll get wet to our waists, but we won't have as far to walk."
"Sure. Why not? We still have our swim suits on.
"Have you ever done it before, Brad?"
"Last summer when I wanted to fish from the other side I did. It's all gravel behind the dam."
"Lead the way." Ginny laughed reaching for Brad's hand.
Struggles of a Country boy Page 8