Post by cnot on Jul 29, 2007 23:28:40 GMT -5
Here's one to rekindle those memories of first girlfriends....
It was early morning, the sun was just beginning to warm the air on a late June morning. The tide was getting near low, the old man was sitting on his five gallon bucket, as he normally would after a couple hours on the jetty, "Uncle Arty has come a callin'" he would say, to explain the arthritis. I was in my early teens, and had a great fondness for the old man I knew as "Buck Tail". He'd taken me under his wing over the previous summer or two, teaching me the finer art of catching Weakfish from the jetties by slinging a buck tail jig at them. Sometimes we'd work them with live bait, and I'd taken to throwing a cast net to get the livies, and I was one of very few who did that in Cape May Point at that time. Fine by me, the guys on the jetties would give me a couple bucks now and then which put some new jigs in my old tackle box. That summer I was to learn that a teenager needs a little jingle in his pocket for things other than hooks and weights.
We'd run low on talk that morning, the bite was slow, and we were just fishing. I had one or two on the stringer, the old man must have had twice that, he always did.
I didn't notice her coming out on the jetty, but her voice caught my attention when she asked if we had caught anything.
When I turned to face her and tell her of the catch, something inside me clicked. Buck Tail must have heard it because he didn't say a word, but did the scratch under his hat and rub of his face which I came to know as his "Oh boy, here we go..." Something he would do when some fisherman was about to tell a whopper about one that got away or something similar....
I don't remember what we talked about on the way off the jetty, I walked with her, Buck Tail a few paces back. I do know that I told her I would drop some fillets off at her house in an hour, and Buck Tail called me over to his car after she parted and I started to walk home.
"Here." He said as he handed me something. "I remember the thing you were using last year and your mom said you hadn't bought a new one yet, so I thought I would give you this."
He was handing me a new fillet knife. Not a crazy expensive one, but a new one, and that was one of those things I hadn't thought to save my pennies for an d buy a new one. I was speechless, and stood there amazed at what a great gift I had just been given by my mentor.
"And here," he said, as he held out a ten dollar bill.
I don't know how my eyes got any wider due to the gift of the knife, but they did. "I couldn't," I stammered "take that. I mean, the knife, the money what's it for?"
"Well" he said as he climbed into his car, "After you fillet out those fish,you're going to wash good behind those ears and take those perfectly dressed fish over to that girl's momma."
"But the money, what's that for?"
Before he pulled the car away he said, "Tomorrow morning you're going to bing me some livies and tell me all about the pizza and movie you took that girl out for tonight."
It was early morning, the sun was just beginning to warm the air on a late June morning. The tide was getting near low, the old man was sitting on his five gallon bucket, as he normally would after a couple hours on the jetty, "Uncle Arty has come a callin'" he would say, to explain the arthritis. I was in my early teens, and had a great fondness for the old man I knew as "Buck Tail". He'd taken me under his wing over the previous summer or two, teaching me the finer art of catching Weakfish from the jetties by slinging a buck tail jig at them. Sometimes we'd work them with live bait, and I'd taken to throwing a cast net to get the livies, and I was one of very few who did that in Cape May Point at that time. Fine by me, the guys on the jetties would give me a couple bucks now and then which put some new jigs in my old tackle box. That summer I was to learn that a teenager needs a little jingle in his pocket for things other than hooks and weights.
We'd run low on talk that morning, the bite was slow, and we were just fishing. I had one or two on the stringer, the old man must have had twice that, he always did.
I didn't notice her coming out on the jetty, but her voice caught my attention when she asked if we had caught anything.
When I turned to face her and tell her of the catch, something inside me clicked. Buck Tail must have heard it because he didn't say a word, but did the scratch under his hat and rub of his face which I came to know as his "Oh boy, here we go..." Something he would do when some fisherman was about to tell a whopper about one that got away or something similar....
I don't remember what we talked about on the way off the jetty, I walked with her, Buck Tail a few paces back. I do know that I told her I would drop some fillets off at her house in an hour, and Buck Tail called me over to his car after she parted and I started to walk home.
"Here." He said as he handed me something. "I remember the thing you were using last year and your mom said you hadn't bought a new one yet, so I thought I would give you this."
He was handing me a new fillet knife. Not a crazy expensive one, but a new one, and that was one of those things I hadn't thought to save my pennies for an d buy a new one. I was speechless, and stood there amazed at what a great gift I had just been given by my mentor.
"And here," he said, as he held out a ten dollar bill.
I don't know how my eyes got any wider due to the gift of the knife, but they did. "I couldn't," I stammered "take that. I mean, the knife, the money what's it for?"
"Well" he said as he climbed into his car, "After you fillet out those fish,you're going to wash good behind those ears and take those perfectly dressed fish over to that girl's momma."
"But the money, what's that for?"
Before he pulled the car away he said, "Tomorrow morning you're going to bing me some livies and tell me all about the pizza and movie you took that girl out for tonight."