Like Father, Like Son

"Take the worm, just like this, and slide it on the hook, like so." The sandy-haired boy watched intently as his father demonstrated how to bait his hook. From the bill of his camouflage hat, the father unlatched a hook that had been stuck into the material. The boy reached out for it with eager hands, and after his third try, he managed to string the worm on the small rusty hook. It dangled at the end as he didn't quite weave it on all the way, but his father seemed happy with his work, so he was, too. 

"Now," said his dad after wiping his hands on his blue running shorts, "this is the tricky part." The boy copied his father's hand wiping, then stayed silent as his father explained the big cast that he  had heard about since he was a toddler. As he looked up at his dad, he felt a strong sense of admiration that he wouldn't understand until he had grown into manhood. Nevertheless, the excitement that rushed through him was unmistakable and made it very hard to keep from wiggling about, but the urgency to learn the procedure of this big cast was far more important than his childish urges. He would prove to his dad that he was ready to undertake this monumental responsibility that his grandpa's grandpa had passed down all the way to his father, and now him. It was a delicious mystery up until now. Now was the climax of the big secret- the turning point in his relationship with his dad. He may have kept from wiggling, but he didn't even notice that he was tugging at the toggles of his life jacket. 

"First and foremost, it is vital to know where the secret fishing spots are." The man looked down at the little boy with a serious expression, but the smile he was hiding after spotting the tugging of the toggles, was attempting to burst out with full teeth. Luckily, he kept it hidden by continuing on with his oh-so-important speech. "Your grandpa showed this spot to me many years ago. There's nothing but big, fat, juicy catfish waiting for you to throw your worm in." Tearing his eyes away from his dad, the boy looked directly at the spot under an overhanging berry bush branch that his dad was pointing at. He imagined massive monster-like fish swimming in circles like sharks. For a moment, he was scared, but he wouldn't dare reveal that to his dad. Not even the small terror that shot through him as he pictured sharp jagged teeth in their mouth. 

"Okay, son. Are you ready?" This time, he couldn't help but jump up next to his dad, nodding his head at twenty miles per hour. A large hand came down gently on his head, brushing the sandy hair back with a slight rub before it returned to the long fishing pole in the other hand. The smile had succeeded to find a way across his lips. "We'll count it out, okay? There are five counts. Number one is to let out a little bit of line like so." With his spider man fishing pole parallel to his dad's, the boy released his line with great effort not to let out too much, which was only possible after sticking out his tongue in strict concentration.

"Perfect! Number two, swing the pole back to the side just like this." With one quick swoosh, the pole flew back to his right side at the height of his hip. For the son, it took two tries, since the first attempt caught the hook on his dad's vintage tee-shirt. This tiny hiccup, causing his dad to laugh, didn't discourage the boy, but rather lead him to join in with his dad's laughter. "Numero three. This is the second most important step, so pay close attention! You have to roll your neck to get all the kinks out. If you don't, you'll be too stiff to catch those catfish!" Both father and son rolled their necks.

"Very good. Now, onto number four. In order to make that perfect cast, you have to flick your wrist like this so that you're ready to snap it when you cast." This time, without waiting for his dad's demonstration, the boy flicked his wrist, ready to cast, ready for that big monster fish, ready to show his dad that he loves to fish, just like him. He flicked his wrist so quickly that his red and white circular bobber flipped over the tip of his pole. He shook it back into place without taking his eyes off it. Everything had to be perfect. This was his big chance.

"Finally! The big moment! Are you sure you're ready?" As before, the boy stayed silent but nodded his head vigorously. "Good. Now, watch carefully. Just dip your pole ever so slightly and snap your wrist as I said before. And viola.." His sinkers plopped precisely into the small space of water under the berry bush branch. With amazement, the boy looked at his dad who was looking back at him. His tongue slipped out again as he dipped his pole, just like his dad, and snapped his wrist, but he sent the bobber flying over onto the land where the roots of the bush were. His dad ensured him that everything was okay and helped his son reel in the bobber until it was next to the spot where his father had tossed his line. 


As they waited patiently for a fish to strike their line, the boy's dad opened the lid of the cooler and took out a bottle of beer and snapped open a root beer for his son. Many hours went by as the father and son enjoyed their time in the boat, catching monster-sized catfish, and coming up with big stories to tell the mother. By the time the sun had gone down, the boy's eyes were beginning to droop. It was a sign to the dad to bring them back home, but minutes before he had landed the boat, the boy had fallen asleep from the rocking waves. He lifted the boy in his arms, carried him into the house, and presented him to the mother.

"Well. How did he do?" she asked with a motherly kind of smile on her face as she looked down upon the sleeping child.

"Can't you tell?" said the father as he nodded his head towards his son. "The fish he caught was so big, it took everything he had to catch it." And with that, the father failed again to hide that big, proud smile that had been passed down from his grandpa's grandpa.