VOICES - Black Hawk College

THE FISHING TRIP
The windows were down and a balmy summer breeze whirled
about the dumpy old pick-up. Jack was busy loading her bed with
terribly neglected fishing gear. He had just packed two open-reels
tangled with yellowing string and rusty worm-coated hooks. He had
methodically inspected a large tackle box that smelled of finely aged
stink-bait. It contained all of the essential fishing supplies such as
bobbers, sinkers, hooks, and a pair of pliers to reclaim their riggings
from over-eager catfish. As Jack loaded the snack cooler his mind
fastidiously sketched the details of this day. None of these actions
were new to Jack. This trip had been planned and postponed
countless times and Jack was well aware that time was about to
swallow them up in its merciless jaws. Today there would be no cell
phones to make last minute calls to corporate about the meeting on
Monday. Jack told nobody where he was going. There would be no
distractions. There could be no excuses…not today.
Daniel watched Jack quietly through the torn screen door. His eyes
were filled with delight. He stepped onto the front porch and hollered
excitedly, “Is the truck packed? Are we ready to go fishin’?”
Jack could barely hold his composure, “Yah, the truck’s packed.
Let’s hit the road.”
“Yah, let’s hit the road,” Daniel agreed as he scuttled to the pickup.
He yanked the handle of the old Ford. The hinges pleaded for W-
D 40 as he pulled the door open. He plopped his rump on the dusty
seat cover and was distracted for a moment by the particles that
danced in the sunlight. Then he grinned with proclamation, “We’re
going fishin’ today and I’m gonna catch me a big‘n.”
Jack replied optimistically, “Absolutely! A ten-pounder at least.”
They started off down the long and pitted gravel driveway. The
old pick-up smelled of abandon. It reprimanded its passengers for
years of neglect with every bump in the road. This truck had towed
farm equipment, carried building materials, and hauled many seasons
of firewood…but it had been a long time since it had been put to any
good use. Daniel tapped his feet on the chunky black floor-mats,
“Where we goin’,?” he asked. “You got a good fishin’ hole picked out?”
Jack placed his hand on his face and pretended to mull over the
question. He had known where they would go since he was a boy.
After giving the matter the sufficient pause he responded, “I think we