You'll Know

The worm wriggled faster when he pierced it the first time. Reddish brown fluid squirted onto his fingers when he pushed it through as his papa told him how. It was sticky almost immediately making it easier to hold onto the hook, but not the worm. A mildew smell wafted in to join with that of the dark earth encased in the white plastic cup. They had bought it at a roadside stand near the entrance from a fat man whose loud breathing had scared him. The man had looked like a heaving monster behind the counter getting ready to breathe fire onto his little blonde head poking up just over the rim.

Sitting on the edge of the county lake the boy listened to papa explain how the smell helped to attract the fish. He wondered how fish could smell anything in the water, but he didn’t ask. Papa made the first cast as an example he said. The red topped cork plopped down a foot away from the worm, which made the small waves roll against each other. How do you know when the fish has eaten the worm he asked. You’ll know papa responded. They waited.

Papa picked up his coffee cup and grunted when he realized it had gotten cold. The boy knew that’s what the sound meant. Ooh, can I have a sip he asked. He’d taken to the bitter taste after he started living with papa, after his mom was arrested. There had been no one else that he knew of. He smacked when he put the cup down, making papa smile. Has a fish gotten it yet? You’ll know.

He picked up the pole again and pulled the cork a little closer to him. Reeling in the slack of the line he asked papa how long he’d had the rod. Fifteen years. He’d bought it on his birthday with a gift certificate they gave him at work. They were nice people the boy thought. They were the same ones that had given him the jacket and pants he was wearing after his clothes burned up in the fire.

Look over there papa said. He followed the old finger to see a crane standing on one foot in the shallow water. It had its beak tucked under one wing. Why does he do that the boy asked. That’s how he sleeps. He has to block out the world somehow just like you and I turn out the lights at night. Mom had always left a night light on for him, but he never asked papa to do that, not after papa told him he was going to have to be a big boy now.

Reel it in papa said. Let’s try different bait, for catfish maybe. Papa pulled a container of chicken liver from the cooler as the last bits of worm came bobbing up out of the water at the end of the line. Now take this piece. The boy gently tried to take the little blob, but the slimy tissue shot out of his hand and onto the ground. That’s alright papa said pulling a piece of ladies panty hose from his pocket. What’s that the boy asked wondering why he’d have that in his pocket. Insurance papa said rapping the now dirty liver in the sheer nylon fabric and placing it on the hook. He thought about how mom used to hang them over the rod in the bathroom. She’d sit on the toilet while he took a bath. He’d ask her questions and play with his toys. How do you get money? From games she’d said. I look for games I can win. How do you know which ones you can win he’d asked. I just know she’d said.

The cork disappeared under the brown water. The boy grabbed the pole and started to reel without even asking papa. That’s it boy. The fish pulled hard bending the old pole into a wide U-shape. He drug the flopping fish onto the bank and giggled as it came. That worked better than the worm he said. How come? The insurance papa said. That’s what mom told me. What do you mean papa asked. When the men took her away, she told me it was because of the insurance. It was a game she’d said.

Author’s request: Please comment on the lack of punctuation along with your other thoughts on this one. In some stories I’ve found this to be a distraction, but I wanted to see what others think about it. Thank you for your time and suggestions. They mean a lot to me.