“I don’t know,” Cullen answered. “He was gone when I got up this morning.”
“He can’t have wandered too far because the truck is still here.”
“That’s a relief, because I need to drive into Quapaw today. I’ve got a couple of odd jobs there. And I have to replace the food George ate yesterday.” He winked at George.
“If Johnny’s gone that means you’ll have to hang out with me.” He looked at George with piercing dark eyes.
George’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, no. I have to be alone with him? I’m…I’m looking forward to it? The epiphany stunned him. Why am I not terrified?
“Is that okay with you, kid?” The corners of Daddy’s mouth twitched.
“What are we going to do today?”
“Why don’t the two of you go up to the lake and catch us some fish for dinner,” Cullen suggested.
“But it’s raining,” George protested.
“Not for long.” Daddy opened the door a crack, staring at the sky. “It’ll stop for a while but we’ll have rain on and off all day. You don’t mind getting a little wet?”
If George ever to the slightest bit wet, his mother screeched so loud she could be heard in Milwaukee. A rebellious urge rose inside of him.
“Sounds like fun.” He smiled back at Daddy. “Can I at least put some clothes on?”
Daddy laughed out loud. “Personally I prefer seeing you naked but if it’ll make you feel better…”
Someone prefers me without clothes? George’s mind reeled, trying to grasp the concept.
After the meager breakfast, Cullen handed George his jeans. “I got them clean for you but I haven’t had a chance to fix those rips and holes yet. Your shirt needs a lot of work, too.”
George glanced up at him in shock. “You mean you can do that?”
Cullen gave him a quizzical look. “Of course, I can. Does that surprise you?”
“I don’t think my mother knows how to mend clothes. If anything gets ripped or torn, she throws it away and buys a new one.”
“Well, we can’t exactly jump up and run to the store every time we get a little snag in our clothes now, can we?”
Cullen spoke candidly but George didn’t detect any sarcasm or jadedness in his voice. He did notice the flash of sadness that passed over Daddy’s face. Something, a sudden urge, compelled him to change the subject.
“I’ve never been fishing before.”
Daddy and Cullen gaped at him.
“Your dad never took you fishing? That’s a rite of passage between father and son. It’s decreed in the Holy Bible, isn’t it? ‘Teach a man to fish.’ Who’s supposed to teach him if not his father?” Daddy continued to stare slack-jawed.
George shrugged. “I don’t think my dad knows how to fish.”
They looked at him for a few more seconds.
“Daddy’s here now and I’ll teach you.”
The rain had stopped by the time Daddy and George set out with fishing poles along a narrow path, but the clouds hung heavy, threatening to open up again. While Daddy rambled on about different aspects of the terrain, flora and fauna, George studied his broad back which rippled with every step and as he swung his muscular arms.
After an hour’s walk, they exited the woods and stepped onto the shores of a lake, much larger than the pond near the cabin.
Daddy showed him how to bait a hook and how to cast. George took a few awkward casts, and Daddy laughed good naturedly at his ineptitude. He offered words of encouragement and instruction. George marveled that Daddy never lost his patience even when he repeated his mistakes.
“Mom and Dad would’ve given up on me long before now,” he said, chuckling nervously. “They would have yelled at me and stomped off.”
Daddy threw a beefy arm around his shoulders. “I don’t have time for impatience.” He laughed again and this time, George joined him.
The heavens opened several times while they fished and George suggested they seek shelter but Daddy shook his head.
“No need. There isn’t any lightning so we’ll be fine.”
Soon George began to enjoy the sensation of the rain falling on his bare chest. The mud oozing up between his toes repulsed him at first, but, to his delight, he realized how strange it felt. They drank rain water that collected in cups Daddy brought and he showed George where to find wild blackberries to eat.
It was mid-afternoon before George caught his first fish. Daddy coached him on reeling it in and then placing it on the strings with the ones he’d caught. He sounded prouder of George’s fish than his own catches, although they all were larger.