Trout Fishing in America

by Richard Brautigan

  We watched for an hour or so and the shacks were fairly gone by then. Charley stood there watching very quietly. inBOIL had once been his brother.

  Some of the children were playing in the fields. They got tired of watching the fire. It had been very exciting at first, but then the children grew tired of it and decided to do something else.

  Pauline sat down on the grass. The flames brought total peace to her face. She looked as if she had just been born.

  I stopped holding Margaret’s hand and she was still in a daze over what was happening. She sat by herself in the grass, holding her hands together as if they were dead.

  As the flames diminished to very little, a strong wind came out of the Forgotten Works and scattered ashes rapidly through the air. After while Fred yawned, I dreamt.

  BOOK THREE: MARGARET

  Job

  I WOKE UP feeling refreshed and stared at my watermelon ceiling, how nice it looked, before getting out of bed. I wondered what time it was. I was supposed to meet Fred for lunch at the cafe in town.

  I got up and went outside and stretched again on the front porch of my shack, feeling the cool stones under my bare feet, feeling their distance. I looked at the gray sun.

  The river shone not quite lunch time yet, so I went over to the river and got some water and threw it in my face to finish the job of waking up.

  Meat Loaf

  I MET Fred at the cafe. He was already there, waiting for me. Doc Edwards was with him. Fred was looking at the menu.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello,” Doc Edwards said.

  “You were really in a hurry this morning,” I said. “You looked like you needed a horse.”

  “That’s right. I had to go deliver a baby. A litle girl joined us this morning.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “Who’s the lucky father?”

  “Do you know Ron?”

  “Yeah. He lives in that shack by the shoeshop. Right?”

  “Yeah. That’s Ron. He’s got a fine little girl.”

  “You were really moving along. I didn’t know you had that much speed left in you.”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  “How are you, Fred?” I said.

  “Fine. I put in a good morning’s work. What did you do?”

  “Planted a few flowers.”

  “Did you work on your book?”

  “No, I planted a few flowers and took a long nap.”

  “Lazyhead.”

  “By the way,” Doc Edwards said. “How’s that book coming along?”

  “Oh, it’s coming along.”

  “Fine. What’s it about?”

  “Just what I’m writing down: one word after another.”

  “Good.”

  The waitress came over and asked us what we were having for lunch. “What are you boys having for lunch?” she said. She had been the waitress there for years. She had been a young girl there and now she was not young any more.

  “Today’s special is meat loaf, isn’t it?” Doc Edwards said.

  “Yes, ‘Meat loaf for a gray day is the best way,’ that’s our motto,” she said.

  Everybody laughed. It was a good joke.

  “I’ll have some meat loaf,” Fred said.

  “What about you?” the waitress said. “Meat loaf?”

  “Yeah, meat loaf,” I said.

  “Three meat loaves,” the waitress said.

  Apple Pie

  AFTER LUNCH Doc Edwards had to leave early to go and check on Ron’s woman and the new baby to see that they were doing all right.

  “See you later,” he said.

  Fred and I stayed there for a while and drank another cup of coffee at our leisure. Fred put two lumps of watermelon sugar in his coffee.

  “How’s Margaret doing?” he said. “Have you seen her or heard from her?”

  “No,” I said. “I told you that this morning.”

  “She’s in pretty bad shape over you and Pauline,” Fred said. “She’s having a lot of trouble accepting it. I was talking to her brother yesterday. He said she’s got a broken heart.”

  “I can’t help that,” I said.

  “Why are you mad at her?” Fred said. “You don’t think she had anything to do with inBOIL just because everybody else does, except Pauline and me?

  “There’s no proof. It doesn’t even make sense in the first place. It was just a coincidence that linked them together. You don’t believe she had anything to do with inBOIL, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Fred shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. The waitress came over and asked us if we wanted a piece of pie for dessert. “We’ve got some apple pie that really tastes good,” she said.

  “I’d like a piece of pie,” Fred said.

  “What about you?”

  “No,” I said.

  Literature

  “WELL, I’ve got to get back to work,” Fred said. “The plank press calls. What are you going to do?”

  “I think I’ll go write,” I said. “Work on my book for a while.”

  “That sounds ambitious,” Fred said. “Is the book about weather like the schoolteacher said?”

  “No, it’s not about weather.”

  “Good,” Fred said. “I wouldn’t want to read a book about weather.”

  “Have you ever read a book?” I said.

  “No,” Fred said. “I haven’t but I don’t think I’d want to start by reading one about clouds.”

  The Way

  FRED WENT OFF to the Watermelon Works and I started back to my shack to write, and then I decided not to. I didn’t know what to do.

  I could go back to iDEATH and talk to Charley about an idea I had or I could go find Pauline and make love to her or I could go to the Statue of Mirrors and sit down there for a while.

  That’s what I did.

  The Statue of Mirrors

  EVERYTHING IS REFLECTED in the Statue of Mirrors if you stand there long enough and empty your mind of everything else but the mirrors, and you must be careful not to want anything from the mirrors. They just have to happen.

  An hour or so passed as my mind drained out. Some people cannot see anything in the Statue of Mirrors, not even themselves.

  Then I could see iDEATH and the town and the Forgotten Works and rivers and fields and the piney woods and the ball park and the Watermelon Works.

  I saw Old Chuck on the front porch of iDEATH. He was scratching his head and Charley was in the kitchen buttering himself a slice of toast.

  Doc Edwards was walking down the street from Ron’s shack and a dog was following behind him, sniffing his footsteps. The dog stopped at one particular footstep and stood there with its tail wagging above the footstep. The dog really liked that one.

  The shacks of inBOIL and that gang of his lay now only as ashes by the gate to the Forgotten Works. A bird was looking near the ashes for something. The bird didn’t find what it was looking for, got tired and flew away.

  I saw Pauline walking through the piney woods up toward my shack. She was carrying a painting with her. It was a surprise for me.

  I saw some kids playing baseball in the ball park. One of the kids pitching had a good fast ball and a lot of control. He threw five strikes in a row.

  I saw Fred directing his crew in the making of a golden plank of watermelon sugar. He was telling somebody to be careful with his end.

  I saw Margaret climbing an apple tree beside her shack. She was crying and had a scarf knotted around her neck. She took the loose end of the scarf and tied it to a branch covered with young apples. She stepped off the branch and then she was standing by herself on the air.

  The Grand Old Trout Again

  I STOPPED LOOKING into the Statue of Mirrors. I’d seen enough for that day. I sat down on a couch by the river and stared into the water of the deep pool that’s there. Margaret was dead.

  There was a swirl of water on the surface that cleared the pool all the way down
to the bottom, and I saw The Grand Old Trout staring back at me, with the little iDEATH bell hanging from his jaw.

  He must have swum upstream from where they were putting the tomb in. That’s a long way for an old trout. He must have left just after I did.

  The Grand Old Trout did not take his eyes off me. He remained stationary in the water, staring intently at me as he had been doing earlier in the day when he lay by the tomb they were putting in.

  There was another swirl of water on the surface of the pool and then I could not see The Grand Old Trout any more. When the pool cleared again, The Grand Old Trout was gone. I stared at the place where he had been in the river. It was empty now like a room.

  Getting Fred

  I WENT DOWN to the Watermelon Works to see Fred. He was rather surprised to see me down there for the second time that day.

  “Hi,” he said, looking up from a golden plank that he had been checking out for something. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Margaret,” I said.

  “Have you seen her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “She’s dead. I saw her in the Statue of Mirrors. She hanged herself from an apple tree with her blue scarf.”

  Fred put the plank down. He bit his lip and ran his hand through his hair. “When did this happen?”

  “Just a little while ago. Nobody knows she’s dead yet.”

  Fred shook his head. “I guess we’d better go get her brother.”

  “Where’s he at?”

  “He’s helping a farmer put a new roof on his barn. We’ll go there.”

  Fred told the crew to knock off for the day. They were quite pleased when Fred told them this. “Thanks, boss,” they said.

  We left the Watermelon Works with Fred suddenly looking very tired.

  The Wind Again

  THE GRAY SUN shone feebly. A wind came up and things that could rustle or move in the wind did so all about us as we walked down the road to the barn.

  “Why do you think she killed herself?” Fred said. “Why should she do a thing like that? She was so young. So young.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know why she killed herself.”

  “It’s just terrible,” Fred said. “I wish I didn’t have to think about it. You haven’t the slightest idea, huh? You haven’t seen her?”

  “No, I was looking into the Statue of Mirrors and she hanged herself there. She’s dead now.”

  Margaret’s Brother

  MARGARET’S BROTHER was up on the barn roof, nailing blue watermelon shingles down and the farmer was climbing up the ladder, bringing him another bundle of shingles.

  Her brother saw us coming up the road and stood up on the barn roof and waved at quite a distance before we got there.

  “I don’t like this,” Fred said.

  “Hello, there,” her brother yelled.

  “What brings you up this way?” the farmer yelled.

  We waved back but didn’t say anything until we got there.

  “Howdy,” the farmer said, shaking hands with us. “What are you doing up this way?”

  Margaret’s brother climbed down the ladder. “Hello,” he said and shook our hands and stood there waiting for us to say something. We were strangely quiet and they picked up on it immediately.

  Fred pawed at the ground with his boot. He drew a kind of half-circle with his right boot on the ground, and then he erased it with his left boot. This took only a few seconds.

  “What’s wrong?” the farmer said.

  “Yeah, what’s wrong?” her brother said.

  “It’s Margaret,” Fred said.

  “What’s wrong with Margaret?” her brother said. “Tell me.”

  “She’s dead,” Fred said.

  “How did it happen?”

  “She hanged herself.”

  Margaret’s brother stared straight ahead for a little while. His eyes were dim. Nobody said anything. Fred drew another circle in the dust, and then kicked it away.

  “It’s for the best,” Margaret’s brother said, finally. “Nobody’s to blame. She had a broken heart.”

  The Wind Again, Again

  WE WENT and got the body. The farmer had to stay behind. He said he would have come along but he had to stay and milk his cows. The wind was blowing harder now and a few small things fell down.

  Necklace

  MARGARET’S BODY was hanging from the apple tree in front of her shack and blowing in the wind. Her neck was at a wrong angle and her face was the color of what we learn to know as death.

  Fred climbed up the tree and cut the scarf with his jackknife while Margaret’s brother and I lowered her body gently down. He took her body then, and carried it into the shack and lay it down upon the bed.

  We stood there.

  “Let’s take her to iDEATH,” Fred said. “That’s where she belongs.”

  Her brother looked relieved for the first time since we had told him of her death.

  He went to a large chest by the window and took out a necklace that had small metal trout encircling it. He lifted up her head and fastened the clasp of the necklace. He brushed Margaret’s hair out of her eyes.

  Then he wrapped her body in a bedspread that had iDEATH crocheted upon it in one of its many and lasting forms. One of her feet was sticking out. The toes looked cold and gently at rest.

  Couch

  WE TOOK Margaret back to iDEATH. Somehow everybody there had already heard of her death and they were waiting for us. They were out on the front porch.

  Pauline ran down the stairs to me. She was very upset and her cheeks were wet with tears. “Why?” she said. “Why?”

  I put my arm around her the best I could. “I don’t know,” I said.

  Margaret’s brother carried her body up the stairs into iDEATH. Charley opened the door for him. “Here, let me open the door for you.”

  “Thank you,” her brother said. “Where shall I put her?”

  “On the couch back in the trout hatchery,” Charley said. “That’s where we put our dead.”

  “I don’t remember the way,” her brother said. “I haven’t been here for a long time.”

  “I’ll show you. Follow me,” Charley said.

  “Thank you.”

  They went off to the trout hatchery. Fred went with them and so did Old Chuck and Al and Bill. I stayed behind with my arm around Pauline. She was still crying. I guess she really liked Margaret.

  Tomorrow

  PAULINE AND I went down for a walk by the river in the living room. It was now nearing sundown. Tomorrow the sun would be black, soundless. The night would continue but the stars would not shine and it would be warm like day and everything would be without sound.

  “This is horrible,” Pauline said. “I feel so bad. Why did she kill herself? Was it my fault for loving you?”

  “No,” I said. “It was nobody’s fault. Just one of those things.”

  “We were such good friends. We were like sisters. I’d hate to think it was my fault.”

  “Don’t,” I said.

  Carrots

  DINNER THAT NIGHT was a quiet affair at iDEATH. Margaret’s brother stayed and had dinner with us. Charley invited him.

  Al cooked up a mess of carrots again. He broiled them with mushrooms and a sauce made from watermelon sugar and spices. There was hot bread fresh from the oven and sweet butter and glasses of ice-cold milk.

  About halfway through dinner, Fred started to say something that looked as if it were important, but then he changed his mind and went back to eating his carrots.

  Margaret’s Room

  AFTER DINNER everybody went into the living room and it was decided to hold the funeral tomorrow morning, even though it would be dark and there would be no sound and everything would have to be done in silence.

  “If it’s all right with you,” Charley said to Margaret’s brother. “She’ll be buried in that tomb we’ve been working on. They finished it this afternoon.”

 
“That would be perfect,” her brother said.

  “It will be dark and there will be no sound, but I think we can take care of everything.”

  “Yeah,” her brother said.

  “Fred, will you go and tell the people in the town about the funeral? Some of them might want to go. Also alert the Tomb Crew about the funeral. And see if you can find some flowers.”

  “Sure, Charley. I’ll take care of it.”

  “It’s our custom to brick up the rooms of those who lived here when they die,” Charley said.

  “What does that mean?” Margaret’s brother said.

  “We put bricks across the door and close the room forever.”

  “That sounds all right.”

  Bricks

  PAULINE AND Margaret’s brother and Charley and Bill, he had the bricks, and I went to Margaret’s room. Charley opened the door.

  Pauline was carrying a lantern. She put it down on Margaret’s table and lit the lantern that was there with a long watermelon match.

  There were now two lights.

  The room was filled with things from the Forgotten Works. Every place you looked there was something forgotten that was piled on another forgotten thing.

  Charley shook his head. “A lot of forgotten things in here. We don’t even know what most of the things are,” he said to nobody.

  Margaret’s brother sighed.

  “Is there anything you want to take with you?” Charley said.

  Her brother looked all around the room very carefully and very sadly and then shook his head, too. “No, brick it all up.”

  We stepped outside and Bill started putting the bricks in place. We watched for a little while. There were tears in Pauline’s eyes.

  “Please spend the night with us,” Charley said.