Fourmile

by Watt Key

  “You ever caught any?”

  “It’s pretty hard in this clear water, but I used to catch some.”

  Gary stood and looked downstream. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you a trick.”

  I got up and waded after him, the cool-off giving me new energy. It was only a second before the dogs caught on to our plan and came splashing after us.

  “Where are you two going?” Mother called.

  “Fishing,” Gary said. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

  Mother set her book down again and watched us until we were out of sight.

  * * *

  I knelt in the shallows, holding both dogs by the collar. Gary lay flat on the creek bank just downstream from us. He had one hand in the water and the other was at rest beside him. Kabo whined and trembled with anxiety.

  “Shhh,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  Minutes passed while Gary remained as still as a log. Nothing about him even twitched except for his eyes, which blinked occasionally. The dogs grew impatient and tugged at their collars, but I held them and waited. Eventually I saw the hand in the water ease along the bank a tiny bit. A few more seconds passed. Then his other hand inched away from its resting place and stopped just above the surface. Suddenly he plunged it into the water and his arms jiggled about.

  “You got one!” I yelled, leaping up. Kabo barked and lunged forward, pulling me face-first into the creek. I let the dogs go and struggled to my feet again. When I stood Gary was in the water, lifting a two-pound bass from the shallows. The dogs crashed up to him and circled him, eyeing the fish.

  “How’d you do that!”

  He turned to me and smiled. “Practice.”

  I started toward him. “Can you show me?”

  He knelt with the fish and cradled it into the water again.

  “Wait!” I said. “We can eat it.”

  He paused and looked at me. “Kind of small, don’t you think?”

  “No, we can eat it. I want to eat it.”

  He shrugged and lifted the fish back out of the water and tossed it onto the bank. “You better catch another one if you want to make a meal for us.”

  “Show me,” I said.

  We lay side by side just as Gary had been earlier. It wasn’t much use with the dogs pacing before us and scaring the fish, but Gary said he’d tell me what to do and then he’d hold Joe and Kabo while I tried.

  “You make your finger look like a worm,” he said. And I saw his hand below the surface and his pointer finger slowly curling and uncurling.

  “Keep it moving real slow. When the fish gets close, start tickling his belly.”

  I looked at him and laughed. Gary remained focused on his finger.

  “It works,” he said. “It sort of relaxes them. You’ll notice when they get calm.”

  I studied his finger again, moving in the clear depths.

  “Then you ease your other hand over,” he said, sliding his left hand off the bank and slowly positioning it over the imaginary fish. “Get it below the surface so you don’t splash. Stay a little behind him.”

  I watched as the top of his hand sank into the water.

  “Then snap!” he said, bringing both hands together. He withdrew his arms and flicked them dry and turned to me. “Think you can do it?”

  I didn’t think so, but I nodded anyway.

  We moved downstream and Gary held the dogs while I tried his technique. I could see the bass, suspended in the dark water beneath the overhanging tree limbs, but couldn’t attract them to my fake worm. After five minutes my finger was so cold that I couldn’t bend it, but I didn’t pull it out. I didn’t want to give up. I wanted him to see me catch one.

  “Maybe we’ll try some more after lunch,” he said. “My stomach’s starting to growl.”

  I was relieved to have an excuse. I sat up and saw the bass dart away. “I think I was close,” I said. “They were looking at me.”

  “It takes a while to get the hang of it. Let’s head back and eat.”

  21

  I carried the bass back with us and showed it to Mother and told her how Gary had caught it with his hands. She acted impressed.

  “We’re going to eat it for supper tonight,” I said.

  “You need to keep it cool,” she said.

  Gary started for the truck. “Let me get lunch out of the cooler and we’ll put the fish in it.”

  He brought back a small Playmate lunch cooler that I remembered seeing in the equipment room, where it was filled with nails. He came over to Mother and knelt and took three sandwiches, three bags of potato chips, a thermos, and three paper cups from it. He placed them all on the towel and motioned at me with his chin. I brought the fish over. The inside of the cooler was scrubbed clean and a Ziploc bag of ice cubes lay across the bottom. I placed the fish inside and he closed it.

  “I hope everybody likes ham and cheese,” he said.

  Mother smiled and reached for a sandwich. “I didn’t know your kitchen was so stocked,” she said.

  Gary opened the thermos and began filling three cups with water. “Best accommodations I’ve had in a while,” he said.

  Mother got the other two towels out of the beach bag and we spread them side by side. I sat in the middle and we faced the creek and ate our lunch while the dogs lay in the shade under the bridge. Gary chewed slowly and seemed to be catching up on his thoughts of that other place he carried in his head. Mother glanced at me occasionally, but mostly stared over the water. I could tell she wasn’t completely comfortable and maybe not seeing the creek at all, but not sure where to look or what to say.

  After a few minutes Gary got up and took the cooler back to the truck. He stayed there for a moment, kneeling beside Kabo and scratching behind the dog’s ears. When he came back he dropped a plastic grocery bag in my lap. “For the trash,” he said.

  Mother wiped her mouth with the corner of her towel. “That was good, Gary.”

  “I never had a bad picnic,” he said. “Foster, let’s clean up and see if we can get some more fish.”

  I watched him catch two more bass that afternoon. I tried a few more times myself, but despite his encouragement, I wasn’t able to get the fish to approach me. By the time we started back upstream the creek was darkening with the shadows of late afternoon. The bird calls were less and more shrill in the breezeless air and the thrumming of the cicadas had faded. Squirrels fussed from the treetops, waiting for us to move on so they could come down and feed. I walked beside him, the dogs trailing us, finally too worn out to care about dashing ahead. My skin felt tight and sunburned on my face.

  Mother packed the towels while Gary and I put our shirts and shoes back on.

  “That’s an interesting tattoo,” she said.

  Gary pulled his shirt on. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess sometimes you get caught up in the moment of things.”

  “Must have been quite a moment.”

  Gary looked at her. She smiled and looked away.

  He started for the truck. “I was young,” he said.

  “You’re still young,” she replied.

  We loaded the dogs and then Gary opened the truck door for me and I swept by and climbed in. He followed and leaned over me and opened Mother’s door. She said “Thank you” and got in beside me. Gary popped the bandanna out the window to get the sand off and tied it around his head.

  “And that?” she said.

  He looked at her. “I’ll bet I get more use out of this rag than anything else I own.”

  “You don’t seem the type to be into fashion.”

  He grinned and started the truck and pulled out from under the bridge. “I don’t want you to take it the wrong way, Linda, but whether you’re into it or not, I think you look real nice today.”

  I stared straight ahead, not wanting to look at either one of them.

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  I couldn’t help glancing at her. She looked out the window and smiled to herself. She hadn’t taken it wrong at
all.

  The sun was setting and the air coming through the truck was cool on my sunburned skin. The sound of crickets played from the forest at the edge of the road and the smell of pine sap and dust flowed into my nose. I felt like I could have ridden that way forever, between the two of them.

  “We got a little behind today, Foster,” Gary said. “We’ll finish stripping the roof in the morning and head into town to get the shingles before lunch.”

  Mother turned to me. “You know I have to work tomorrow,” she said. “You think you’ll be okay by yourself?”

  “I’ll be okay,” I blurted out.

  “I’ll keep him busy,” Gary said. “He won’t have time for mischief.”

  It was the best day I’d had in a year. Every bit of it down to the sunburn and the sand in my damp shorts. And the thought of spending the days ahead with Gary made my heart swell.

  But the feeling didn’t last long. The house came into view and the sight of Dax’s truck parked in our yard yanked it from my chest.

  22

  When we turned in to the driveway Dax was coming around the side of the house. He saw the truck and all of us in it and stopped and stared. I could tell he was upset.

  “Great,” Mother said wearily.

  We were halfway up the drive when Joe started growling from the truck bed and Gary stopped and got out.

  “Get Joe and take him around back,” he told me.

  I slid across the seat and dropped to the ground. “Tell him to leave, Gary,” I said.

  “Just do what I told you. I’ll meet you back there.”

  I frowned and walked around the truck. I dropped the tailgate and got Joe by the collar and pulled him out. “Easy, boy,” I said.

  Gary climbed back into the truck and started it toward the house. I tugged on Joe’s collar and got him moving after them.

  Gary pulled the truck sideways before the front door and parked it and looked out the window at Dax. I was angling around the house but close enough to hear them.

  “Where the hell you been?” Dax said.

  “You talking to me?” Gary said.

  Dax craned his head to see past him into the cab. “No, I ain’t talkin’ to you,” he said. “I’m talkin’ to her.”

  “Then you talk nice to her.”

  I stopped and squeezed Joe’s collar tight in my fist.

  Dax straightened and looked at Gary again. “What’d you just say to me?”

  Mother got out of the truck in a hurry. “It’s okay, Gary,” she said. She started walking around the hood with Dax’s eyes on her the whole time.

  “What is this, Linda?” he said.

  She fingered her hair over her ear and I could see her hands shaking. “It’s nothing, Dax. Gary and Foster wanted to go cool off at Tillman’s bridge and I rode with them.”

  “Since when have you done anything like that?”

  She stopped and looked him in the eyes for the first time. “Come on, Dax. We just went for a ride.”

  “I get here and your car’s in the driveway and nobody’s around. What the hell you expect me to think? Been lookin’ all over the place for you.”

  “I told you to call first, Dax,” she said.

  “Call first! I’m supposed to be your damn boyfriend! I got to call to come check on you?”

  She said it softly, but I heard it. “You’re not my boyfriend, Dax.”

  Dax started to say something but didn’t. He glanced at Gary then back at Mother. “I see,” he finally said. “This is what you do when old Dax ain’t around.”

  Gary opened his door and got out and stood there with one hand holding the window frame.

  Dax turned and faced him. “Partner, I’m about to step over there and accept your invitation.”

  “You want him to leave, Linda?” Gary said.

  Mother looked at the ground and nodded.

  Dax stared at her in disbelief. After a second he began chuckling and shaking his head. Finally he spit at the ground. “I’ll be damned, Linda. The hired help. I never—”

  Gary took a step toward him. “Get in your truck.”

  The smile left Dax’s face as he looked at Gary again. “Yeah, bud,” he said. “Me and you’ll talk again when the woman and kid aren’t around.”

  Gary didn’t answer him.

  “You sure this is what you want, Linda? Don’t be callin’ me up tomorrow.”

  “Get in your truck,” Gary said again.

  Dax smiled and backed away, watching Gary. Finally he looked at Mother one last time before turning and getting into the S10. He cranked it and tore out of the driveway.

  “You all right?” Gary asked her.

  She nodded to herself and hurried into the house. Gary turned to me and motioned to the barn with his chin.

  * * *

  Gary heated two cans of soup for us and we sat in the hay with the dogs and ate out of paper cups.

  “You think he’ll come back?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know the type.”

  “But you’ll beat him up?”

  “I hope I can just talk to him.”

  “But you could beat him up. I know you could. You could, couldn’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why’d she ever like him?”

  “You can’t always tell about a person right away.”

  “But you knew. You knew the first time you saw him.”

  Gary lifted another spoonful of soup and didn’t respond.

  “How’d you know?” I asked.

  “Your dog told me.”

  I looked at Joe. Gary reached over and petted him and Joe’s ears twitched and I heard him sigh. “They have a sense we don’t have,” he said. “They can tell about a person. I don’t know what it is.”

  “Joe growled the first time he saw him.”

  Gary didn’t answer.

  “You think I should go inside?” I asked.

  He dipped his spoon into the soup again. “In a little while,” he said. “Let your mother have some time to herself.”

  “What about the fish?”

  “I’ll clean them later and put them in the refrigerator.”

  “Maybe for tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe so.”

  “I had a good day,” I said. “The best time in a long time.”

  He was distant again. “Good,” he said.

  “Gary?”

  He wasn’t looking at me. “Yeah?”

  I knew what I wanted to ask. I had the words for it this time, but as soon as they built in my throat fear made me swallow them away. I didn’t think I could take the answer. He finally looked at me.

  “What?” he said.

  I turned away and shook my head like it no longer mattered. He kept his eyes on me and I felt that he’d come back to me from wherever he’d been in his mind.

  “I had a good time too,” he said.

  23

  When I stepped into the house it was dark and quiet. I passed through the kitchen and down the hall and stopped before Mother’s bedroom door. I listened for a moment and heard nothing. Then I knocked and she told me to come in.

  She was lying in bed reading the book she’d taken to the creek that afternoon. I expected her hair to be unkempt and her eyes to be red from crying, but she was composed and you never would have known anything unusual had happened. She placed the book in her lap and raised her eyebrows at me.

  “Good night,” I said.

  “Good night, Foster.”

  I started to go, then turned back. “Gary says Dax’ll come back.”

  “Then I’ll tell him to leave again.”

  “You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

  “That’s right. I don’t want to see him anymore.”

  I breathed deep and smiled to myself.

  “I didn’t use good judgment, Foster. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “Did you eat?”


  I nodded. “Gary had some soup.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “He said you can’t always tell about a person right away. He said Joe knew Dax was mean the first time he saw him.”

  Mother looked down at her book, but she didn’t pick it up.

  “Gary could beat him up,” I said.

  She looked at me again. “Did he say that?”

  “No. But I know he could. He was in the army. He’s the strongest person I’ve ever seen. He’s not scared of anything.”

  She started to say something but didn’t. “I know you’re having fun working with Gary, but I told your grandfather we’d come to Montgomery on Friday and spend the weekend. I want you to look at the school you’ll be going to. I also have a meeting with a real estate agent to look at houses.”

  It surprised me to feel a rush of panic. Just a few weeks before I would have given anything to get off the farm and go see Granddaddy. But now all I wanted was to stay at Fourmile and work with Gary.

  “But we haven’t even sold the house yet,” I said.

  “I know. But I’ve got a good sense about things and we need to keep moving forward. And your granddad has a surprise for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “A surprise.”

  “We’ll be back Sunday?”

  “That’s right. And there’ll be work left to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “The barn needs to be cleaned out. There’s a lot of touch-up painting to do inside the house.”

  “What else?”

  “We’ll see. That’s plenty for now.”

  “But what if the house doesn’t sell?”

  “Foster, we’re not staying here through the fall. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Granddaddy’s floor.”

  I looked down and nodded.

  “So we both need to prepare for that.”

  “I know,” I said. But I didn’t really know at all.

  * * *

  The next day we finished taking off the old shingles and hauled our truckload of debris to the county landfill. Before heading into town for more supplies we stopped at a gas station and fueled up the truck and bought hamburgers and Cokes from a snack shop next door. We took our lunch with us and Gary pulled off the road at a public boat launch on the river and we ate on the tailgate.