Fishing for Pa
By Karen Pierce Gonzalez
 

A story about a boy who wants to take care of himself and his younger brother in the only way he knows how to.

Today is Saturday, the day we used to fish with Pa. Since he left, Ma’s been having us - me and my little brother Jasper - help her bake desserts for the Sunday church socials.  But after being cooped up inside all day flour-dusting pans and churning butter, we decide we don’t want to do that anymore. Like our pa said, “that’s women’s work.”

He said a lot of things like that before our mother ran him out of the house with a broom.

Most of the time when they fought, she’d scream then cry. “You’re a sneaking liar if ever there was one!”

“Don’t get uppity. I don’t want Darryl and Jasper hear you talking like that.” He’d yell at the top of his lungs. “I’ve done nothing wrong here. Not really.”

Three weeks ago, was the last time, though, for Ma. She was having no more of it. “Whose fault is it that Adeline’s lip marks are on your neck? Did that lopsided floozy mistake you for an ear of corn?”

She pushed him out the door and locked it.

“That’s it!” He’d marched off.

Before, he’d sleep on someone’s porch for a few days. Then show up, hair matted, and ask if he could come inside and clean up.

This time Ma sobbed the first two weeks. Must’ve run out of tears because she stopped, straightened her thin shoulders, and told us it was time to get on with life. “Darryl and Jasper, you’ve got to be my men, now.” We didn’t want to see her get sad again, so we said ‘yes’ right away.

Every morning we’d toss a bucket of slosh into the hog pen, and oil the water pump to keep it working. Plus, we made our beds.

But I got tired of spending Saturdays cooking sweets for after -worship gatherings. Didn’t want Jasper to do it either, even though, at 8, he didn’t mind. But I knew that would doom both of us.

Today, we’ll skedaddled out the back door before Ma grabs her aprons.

“Where you two going?”

“We’re looking for Pa,” I say.

“All right. Be back for supper!”

“Yes’m,” we call out as the door closes behind us.

“She’s not telling us to come back in.” I wink at Jasper.

We’ve got Mrs. Kittle to thank for that. Our neighbor had come on Wednesday with a basket of eggs, fresh peaches, and a warning about how it would be for Ma to raise us two boys unless there was a man around the house to show his sons what to do.

“Boys need their father.”

“You might be right.” Tired, Ma had shrugged.

But Mrs. Kittle, who loved to nose into other people’s business, didn’t know I’d already found Pa. Saw him the week before- through the blackberry bushes lining the creek near Adeline’s house. In his underwear, he’d been taking a splash bath in the cool water. Adeline, standing just outside the front door, pushed back her curly black hair, and smiled.

“Honey, ready for pancakes?”

I didn’t tell Jasper either. Not until now when, on our way to our favorite fishing pole, I take a sudden left turn near the overgrown milkweed grass and whisper, “follow me.”

He’s been feeling so low lately. I know this is what he needs.

Nearing the blackberry vines, I tap his arm and squad. He does, too.

When we hear Pa whistling on Adeline’s porch, Jasper ‘s face lit up. He starts to say something, but I cover his mouth with my hand. I’m not sure I want Pa to know we are here.  Not sure I want him home. Without the bickering, it’d been easier to fall asleep and stay asleep, and me and Jasper didn’t have to take sides about anything.

“Leave him be,” I mouth the words to Jasper as Pa walks back into her house.

“But…” Big brown eyes on me, Jasper whimpers.

“Yeah, I know.” I put my arm around his scrawny shoulders and draw him to me.

“We should tell Ma.”

“Little brother,” I keep my voice low,. “We can come back whenever we want and take a look see. I promise.”

“O… okay, I guess.”

“Don’t tell anyone. Understand?” For now, Pa’s being gone means we get to leave the house every Saturday if we say we’re looking for him.

 Jasper grins. He likes that. We both do. A lot more than we’ll ever admit.

Karen Pierce Gonzalez is an award-winning writer, whose work has appeared in numerous print and online publications, radio, and podcasts. Her chapbooks include Coyote in the Basket of My Ribs (Kelsay Books), True North and Sightings from a Star Wheel (Origami Poems Project), and forthcoming Down River with Li Po (Black Cat Poetry Press). Writing credits also include several short plays staged through Fringe Festival of Marin and facilitation of local art center creative writing workshops. With degrees in creative writing, anthropological linguistics, and folklore, she is also a former journalist and folklore columnist who now hosts a quarterly ‘Get Ekphrastic with Folk Art’ blogzine on FolkHeart Press.  She is also a visual artist whose work has shown in several Pacific West Coast galleries and  has had 50+ art images, including six cover images, appear in numerous publications.