One Last Cast

It was a terribly cold morning, the kind that’d cut to the bone if there had been even a lick of wind, but it was perfectly calm, thankfully. I took a few sips from my thermos and looked out over the frozen pond before me. It’d be the last time I’d see this place. We were moving. We were not only going be living in a city, but our new place was also much farther south. I knew I’d likely never get to see the pond again, and I was already nostalgic for the years of fishing I’d had here, especially ice fishing. I walked down to the shoreline, bundled against the cold, with rod and tackle in hand. It’d been a blizzard out the last few days, and I’d feared I wouldn’t be able to make it out here one more time before we left. The weather had relented today however, so even though I did have a bit of last minute packing to do, I didn’t care. My folks would probably chew me out for it, but I hoped that perhaps dad would understand. All I wanted was just a couple hours alone to fish, just one last time.

I checked the ice at the shore, it was solid and thick, and the bitter cold from the nights and the recent weather had given me a perfect ice layer to go out on, no risk of breaking through it for sure. I’d remain careful, but knew it was only cautionary. The memories of past excursions flowed through my mind as I crossed out to just shy of the center of the pond, where the water was deepest. I remembered the first time dad had shown me how to hold a rod and reel, and how proud I was to do so… and how bad I was at it too. The thought made me chuckle, as I crotched down, and began work on making a hole in the ice, now remembering the countless times I’d done this after having watched my father do it countless times more. A cold shiver ran through my veins and snapped me out of my memories. I took another quick swig from the thermos to chase the chill away before I went back to my work. Doing this helped put me in the mood for it; it was relaxing and meditative, since I could do it with practiced ease. It turned on my patient and attentive side, the elements needed for catching.

“I thought I’d find you out here.” A familiar voice said from behind me.

“Dad?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to find him standing there, bundled from head to toe as I was, and holding his rod as well.

“Your mother pitched a fit I’ll have you know. I had to take one for the team.” He joked and came up beside me.

“Sorry…” I began, but he cut me off.

“Its fine kiddo, I’m gonna miss this place too, so no worries. We’ll get your mom settled down once we’re done.” He replied, putting a hand on my shoulder. I could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see anything of his face except his eyes. “Good job on the hole by the way.”

He ran his glove along the lip of the hole, not getting his hand in the water though. “Looks good, and we should be able to get anything we catch through it.”

“Thanks.” I answered, reaching to get my rod, and looking over to watch my father ready his as well. We both dropped our lines down into the water and began the wait. Dad gave a shudder after a few minutes and I passed the thermos over to him.

“Looks like you didn’t bring yours.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, should’ve thought to.” He said after taking a drink and passing it back before the quiet resumed. It didn’t last terribly long though before I got a bite. My body whipped into action, feeling the tell-tale reaction at the end of line having a fish on it. I popped the tip of the rod up to set the hook and began to reel. I could see dad’s face light up out the corner of my eye as I focused on landing the fish. It was a fighter though, and I stood from my seat for extra leverage against its pull. As I reeled, my foot slipped, losing traction as I was trying to brace and fight back against the fish. I grimaced, feeling my balance going out from under me. I shot my foot out, hoping for it to find purchase. It did, just as I felt my dad’s arms come around my middle to keep me from sliding into the hole in the ice. I wouldn’t have gone all the way in, but dunking a foot or leg into such frigid water would be bad news.

I finally hauled it up through the hole, grabbing onto the line just above the fish to steady it and moved it away from the hole so it wouldn’t flop back in if it spit out the hook. My dad whistled at the sight of it while we got me back upright.

“Whoa! That must be one of the biggest fish in this old pond!” He exclaimed, “No wonder it gave you a hard time.”

I grinned triumphantly back at him. “Seems like a perfect send off for us.”

I could see my dad’s face change from excited to a bit more melancholy even through the layers. I knew he was feeling just as I was about this whole moving business but it couldn’t be helped. “Yes, yes it does…”

He pumped his fist however. “We can talk like that after we’re done though. There’s still plenty of catching to be done.”

Both of our faces mellowed into pleasant smiles, happy for the break from all the stress of life and preparing for the move, and we resumed our places at the edge of the ice-hole to spend our last few hours of freedom doing something we love, together.