Andrew threads a new fly onto the nine-foot leader and ties a simple knot to secure it. He shakes his head, glad that he took the time to make new flies two weeks ago.
“That tree wanted to keep that fly, didn’t it? Was that one you made?” Colin asks.
“Yes, it was one of my flies., though, at least not one of my favorites. And, I might have been able to save the fly if that hornet nest wasn’t so close. Easier to just cut the line and move on than deal with those darn things!”
Colin nods in agreement.
“Plus, you don’t chew snuff like Aunt Ada.”
Andrew smirks a bit.
“What? Oh, you know, I’d forgotten that she dips snuff. Does she still put a giant glob of wet, dirty snuff right out of her mouth onto wasp and hornet stings?”
Colin nods and points to a red welt still on his forearm.
“Got that one this week.”
Andrew chuckles, “Well, you’re right. I don’t chew snuff, and if you asked me, I would hope you never do either, or at least wait until you’re an adult and can make adult decisions about your health.”
“My FFA goat roper friends in school already chew. But I’m not interested in the rodeo or chewing tobacco. I do think it’s kinda cool to smoke cigars, just like Uncle A.C. does though.”
Andrew considers this statement from his teenage son for a minute, as he repositions the boat so both of them can better place their flies near the cattails that line the bank and chuckles a bit as he responds.
“Cigars, huh? Well, son, first, never say that around your mother. She’ll take a dim view of your opinion regarding cigars. It could also change how she feels about the time you spend with your Uncle A.C. Second, I can’t believe that kids your age are already chewing tobacco. That is a shame, given they have their whole lives ahead of them to make bad decisions. It’s not good that they start with a bad lifestyle choice so young.”
Colin is silent, trying to absorb and understand what his father says. He twitches his fly rod, and a bream gobbles the fly. As he is stripping in the line, his dad gets one too.
“We got a twofer!” Colin yells, using the phrase he and his father share when they catch fish at the same time. Once the barbless flies are removed, both toss their fish into the cooler that sits between them.
“We’re gonna fry fish tonight!” Colin says, rolling his fly back towards the nests of bream. “And I understand about Uncle A.C. I’m not ready to try a cigar now, but I won’t ever mention it to mom.”
“Good. Hey, cast over there towards that big tree. The water is disturbed a bit, might be a big bass over there.”
Colin does just what his dad says, and a largemouth bass hits the fly the second it hits the water. As he fights to bring it into the boat, his dad watches with pride. Unhooking the 2-pound bass, Colin tosses it into the cooler with the others.
“You like fishing, don’t you? It helps that you’re pretty good at it,” Andrew says.
“Yes. I like it. I think everything you’ve taught me is great. I love shooting too. I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it. One day, I’m going to be just like you.”
Andrew nods and turns his attention back to fishing.
“Son, if that’s what you want to do, then I’d be honored to have you serving in the Marshal’s Service. But you’re still young, so don’t make up your mind just yet. You might not like law enforcement. It’s not all fun and games.”
“You mean, like going camping with your family and having two cops you don’t know drive up and need to talk? Or hiding a gun in your tackle box?”
Andrew laughs and shakes his head. He realizes not much gets by his son.
“Yes. And those ‘two cops,’ as you said, came to see me for two reasons. First, they were just paying their respects. A trooper recognized me at the checkpoint where we turned around and his boss, Clint, the State Trooper, wanted to stop and introduce himself to me. The other officer was a friend of his and just happened to be working with his buddy. You may recall, he is the City Marshal over in Minden.”
He thinks about stopping with that explanation but figures his son is mature enough to understand.
“To be completely honest with you son, the second reason they wanted to speak with me was, and, when I tell you this, you need to promise it stays between us.”
Colin doesn’t wait until his father is finished speaking before he nods and agrees. “I promise, dad.”
Andrew smiles again and continues. “They are working what appears to be a homicide over on the lower lake. Remember that kind of green car in the ditch at the roadblock?”
Colin thinks for a moment and nods. He stops fishing entirely in anticipation of what his father doesn’t want his mother to know.
“Well, the driver of the car was found dead over on the lower lake, at the Methodist Camp beach just across from the public beach.”
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
“Did they get who did it yet? Do they think it’s a fugitive? Is that why they came to you?” Colin nods vigorously and finishes with, “now I understand the gun in the tackle box.”
“Well, the Captain said they don’t have any suspects for the murder. And to be clear, they’re not entirely sure of all the details regarding the victim. There’s not much left of him for the forensic scientist-types to examine. I think they knew I was here and were hoping to get my ideas on where the investigation might need to go.”
“Is it someone you’ve been after?”
“No. But, the way the man was killed is similar to a case or two that I investigated last year.”
“You mean, when you shot those robbers?”
“No. That was something completely different. Remember when I was gone all those days, over to Caddo Lake and Lake-o-the-Pines?”
Colin laughs.
“I remember. You came home mad at the FBI didn’t you!”
It’s Andrew’s turn to laugh now.
“Your mother is right; you have a mind like a steel trap! Yes, I was mad at the FBI, but that’s a story for later. Anyway, the case I was working then is somewhat similar to the case they wanted to talk to me about, over on the lower lake.”
Colin is intrigued.
“It might be the same bad guy? Texas is very close, so they could have come over here. Oh man, you better not tell mom this story. She’ll have us packed up and back home before sundown!”
“I know. This is why we’re going to keep this between us men. Got it? Now, get back to fishing. Enough talk about crime and criminals!”
“Yes, sir!” Colin says, roll casting his fly towards a big, underwater tree.
