Date: Mon, 20 Apr 2015 19:10:26 +0000 (UTC) From: Bob Smith Subject: Fishing Buddies Chapter 1 Remember, this is just a story. It's not real and didn't happen. Nifty needs your support to exist. Consider sending them some money so we can continue to read these stories. I love getting email so if you like the story let me know. My other stories Camping with Ace Late Night Intruders My Boys ************************************************************************* Chapter 1 I was backing my boat on the entrance ramp to the Homosassa River when I first noticed them. I was heading out for another fishing trip and I love my fishing. I love the feel of a fish taking my bait. I love the wait as I decide if I am going to set the hook or give him more line. I also like the solitude of sitting in your boat, the rollers rocking you and not hearing much of anything except the waves hitting the side of your boat. The sounds are relaxing to me. Because of my love for fishing, I try to wet a line at least three times a week. I don't always go out for a long time, but I like to get away when I can. Most of the time I go alone. On occasion, when he's not in school or involved with other activities, my thirteen year old son, Scott, goes with me. It's a great time to catch up on his life and for us to spend some quality time together. Since my wife left us four years ago, cancer, Scott and I have grown closer and time spent on the boat has allowed us to bond in ways too numerous to mention. Today was another teacher professional day and there was no school. Scott was spending the night at a buddy's house so I was going solo and look for the big one by myself. As I backed up the boat, getting it ready to launch, I noticed two boys fishing from the shore near the ramp. This was not the first time I noticed them. They seemed to be permanent fixtures on the river. Most of the time, they were seated under the same tree with their lines in the water, the bobber ready to tell them they had a fish on. Today, there were two of them; on occasion, only the older one was out fishing. Both wore dirty cargo shorts. They seem to have only one pair of shorts since every time I have seen them, they were wearing the same pair. As spring moved slowly into summer, the pants seem to be getting grubbier as time went on. Since neither boy wore a belt, you could see their underwear as the shorts sagged off their waist. They both were bare foot with their sneakers set aside near their tackle box. They didn't wear shirts. The shirts were piled near their sneakers. If I didn't know better I would have thought that the kids were Native American or even African American their skin was so dark. The oldest looked about Scott's age, thirteen maybe, but that was hard to tell. Scott was a big boy for his age. He was perhaps the tallest kid in the eighth grade and build solid. This lad was tall and skinny. You could see his ribs when he stretched out his body. I didn't notice any hair under his arms, but then again, I was at a distance and really didn't want to stare. I didn't think the puberty bug had bitten him yet. In spite of the fact that the lad was skinny, he was handsome. The little guy, his brother, I guessed, looked like he was eleven or twelve. He was built solid. He was maybe four inches shorter than his brother, but might have weighted the same. You could see even at a distance he was rock-hard without any fat, just prepubescent muscle. While the older boy was a basketball player look, the younger lad was definitely going to be a football player. I turned from my gazing at them and concentrated on getting my boat in the water. I launched my craft and tied it to the floating pier. When I returned from parking my truck and trailer, the youngest boy had a fish on his line. His older friend was encouraging him and giving him advice on how to land the fish. After a short, but vigorous fight, the fish was scooped up by the bigger boy. The little guy had landed a fourteen inch Mango Snapper. "Good job, Chris." the older one said. "Tonight, we eat fish." "Good thing. I am tired of Raman noodles for supper." Chris replied. The older boy looked over at me and I acted as if I had heard nothing. "Do you want to stay and try to get another one or shall we head home and eat this puppy?" "Let's go home and fry him up. I am starving?" The boys were packing up and getting their shoes on as I left the dock and heading out to the Gulf. I returned a few hours later with a couple of Reds. Not very big, fewer than three pounds each, but good eating size. The boys have been long since gone but I did wonder why they were eating Ramen noodles instead of other food. Two evenings later, I was at the dock about to launch my boat for another evening of fishing. The boys were at their usual spot. Same cargo pants, same shirt piled near their sneakers, same intensity as they fished. This time I brought Scott with me. He saw the boys and gave a wave. The older lad waved back at him. "Do you know those guys?" I asked? "Yeah. Travis is in some of my classes. He is in the eighth grade, thirteen I think, and a really smart guy. I think they live near the resort." he said. "So tell me about them." I asked. "Well. I don't know much. Travis is smart, but not much of a jock so we don't hang out much together. I don't think his family has much money. He dad left and his mom is a waitress and works at Walmart." "They sure like fishing." I said. "Dad, I am not sure they like fishing so much as them like catching the fish to help the food budget. Their mom doesn't make much money. They wear clothes from Goodwill's second hand store, I think. Sometimes Travis has pants on that are so small he can't button the top button and he can't zip them up, but he is really nice so no one gives him any shit about that. We have worked together in Biology and social science on a few projects. He is one smart dude. He always gets A's. He just doesn't have a lot of friends because he don't have much money. " "DON'T have?" I gave him a look only a father can give. "Doesn't have." he said as he smiled. "Do you have a problem if I asked them to go fishing with us sometime?" "No. He's a good guy. I don't know his brother very well, but if I had to guess, he's like Travis. My friends' little brothers like him a lot. Chris is a little wild, but they are both good kids. They just got a bad deal going when their dad left." "OK! If they are here when we return, we will ask them to go fishing with us. If not, you can ask Travis tomorrow in school." I started the motor and we pushed away from the dock and headed out to deeper water. We found a nice school of Reds and less than two hours we were back on the dock with two nice sized eating fish. As I said, I don't have to be on the water a long time to relax and catch fish. The boys were just getting ready to leave as we pulled up. "Scott, ask Travis if he wants some fish. You can give him one of the Reds." I expected him to walk over to his friend and quietly ask him if he wanted the fish. Instead, at the top of his lungs, he yelled "Travis, you want some fish?" Travis looked up and recognized Scott, waved and said at the top of his lungs, "Hell, yeah" then he looked at me and mumbled, "Sorry." "Scott has been known to say `Hell' so no big deal." I said. Quietly I told Scott, "Scott, grab the big Red and bring it over to them. Ask if they want to go fishing with us on Saturday and tell them they need to ask their mom for permission or they can't go." Scott grabbed the larger of the two fish and got out of our boat. The three boys met at the end of the dock and Scott gave Travis the fish. Needless to say the boys were very awestruck by the size of the fish. Their idea of a big fish was three pounds. They held a fifteen pounder in their hands. Scott came back to the boat. "Dad, can you give me the fillet knife. I am going to help them fillet the fish. They never saw one this big and are not sure how to clean it." "You help them and I will get the boat out of the water. Be careful of the birds. As soon as they see you cleaning the fish they are going to want their share so be careful. And don't cut a finger off. The knife is sharp. And grab a plastic bag so they can carry the fish" By the time I had the boat out of the water and ready to go, the fish was cleaned and all three of the boys came over. "Thanks, Mr. Smith." Travis said. "Yeah! Thanks a lot." said Chris. "No problem boys. I hope you enjoy eating the fish. Reds are delicious and please call me Bob. Mr. Smith is my father and he is long gone." "Well, thanks Bob and see you in school tomorrow, Scott." The two ragamuffins left with one hand on each of the plastic bag handles. It was a big fish and I hope they could get it home without dragging it. Scott and I got into the track and we started to head home. "Thanks dad. They were really grateful for the fish. They said it was so big they wondered if they could share it with their neighbors. I told them yes." "It's always good to share with others." I said.