Bad Fish

Stephen visited his dad in the house he grew up in. His wife wanted to stop their son from becoming a dreaded 'iPad kid' so her father-in-law's three acre property was the perfect playground for their son who entertained himself by climbing trees. Stephen's brother also liked to climb trees. He often studied birds, listening to their calls and sometimes mimicking them, until Stephen made fun of him. Stephen liked to open up rocks and find insects, particularly Roly-polies. He liked the sound they made when he crushed them underfoot or between his fingers. Snails were fun too. When Stephen got bored with Roly-polies and snails, he caught grasshoppers and butterflies, removing their wings or legs, condemning them to an earth-bound life. Sprawling Ant mounds were less appealing targets especially since they came with stings, he instead found they made better allies. The ant city would face all manner of unwilling invaders, grasshoppers, beetles, spiders, and de-winged butterflies. Most would be dragged down by a sea of red and black before they could escape, and if they did, Stephen would throw them back on. When he caught these insects, he was careful not to damage them, other than the butterflies wanting them perfectly healthy when fighting the ants. By the time he was beginning to get bored, their father one day bought the boys fishing poles and took them to the river for a lesson. Stephen was incredibly lucky, while his brother only caught a carp. 

“Sorry about that kiddo, we can't eat that,” said the boy's father, throwing the Carp back into the water, “That's a bad fish, try again, maybe we can catch one that tastes a little better.”

Stephen found much use for his new fishing pole. He snuck down to the river by himself and caught a large mouth bass. He plopped it in a bucket, and all of a sudden the ants would find themselves attacked by the greatest beast they encountered so far. They stung, but the bass was too large and his skin too slimy to kill quickly. The fish tried to flop its way to the river, which was an acre away. The ants targeted the open mouth and the eyes of the bass which proved much easier than his slimy scales. The ants and sun's persistence stopped the fish's flopping. Stephen put the fish back in the river to hide the evidence. Stephen fished often. His brother saw him once. It made him cry, but he didn't tell his parents. He still occasionally fished as an adult, except he did throw them back alive, or he cooked them for his family. The old way of fishing would be boring to him now, just like crushing mealybugs got boring to him when he was younger. As Stephen reminisced about his secret fishing trips walking by the river while his children were laughing up at their VRBO, he couldn't find any guilt. It brought him a strange sense of respect for himself, like he had a mysterious dark side. He wasn't like the ordinary men he worked with, having predictable thoughts and generic backgrounds. Maybe that explains his success in his career, he and his dark side are willing to be different from the everyday Joe, to do what is needed to gain success. He smiled at this thought and his uniqueness. The land that connected to the VRBO also connected to his old house, he would at least take an at-distance look and then head back. His brother climbed these trees, even the ones far away from their property. As Stephen was getting closer to his old home, he found himself looking for a very specific tree. It was the tree where his brother had found a blue jay's nest. His brother was thrilled and used his dad's camera to snap a picture of the mother feeding her chicks. Their father was impressed with the picture and told him to submit it to a contest. He did and did not receive a reply. Stephen would like it if he could catch a Blue Jay from the sky, clip its wings, and watch it get torn apart by a sea of ants, however, it was unlikely he could catch it, especially if he wanted it alive. However, these chicks were easier prey. He knew this was an entirely different realm than Roly-poly's and fish. Bugs were just bugs, and his father caught and cooked fish. This was beyond that. He definitely couldn't get caught on this one. He waited for the day his brother was at his grandparent's house. His parents didn't come down to the Millers' property, but the nest was closer to the yard than the anthill and his usual fishing spot. The mother was away, so he began climbing the tree with his plastic bag. He wasn't as good as his brother, but he went slowly and carefully and managed to get to the nest. The chicks began chirping wildly for their mother, sensing a threat. They weren't old enough to open their eyes yet. He tried to push the nest into the bag, but as he let go of the tree, one of the branches beneath him broke, sending him and the nest tumbling with him. Branch caught his fall and he was able to save himself before he fell. The chicks fell all the way to the ground. They were dead. Stephen had massive scrapes on his arms and legs, as well as a bruise on his back from him colliding with that branch. He began to cry and left the chicks for the house. He wouldn't have wanted to give them to the ants if they were dead anyway. His mother cleaned up his cuts. The broken branches on the tree combined with would be a dead giveaway to his family. His brother would spill his guts about the fishing trip, and they would know him for who he was. It took a while for his dad and his brother to come back, but as soon as they did, the rain started to pour. They started blowing lawn chairs and shaking trees. It kept up for the next three days and by the end of it there were branches scattered all over the yard backyard which their father would the next week clearing. Then Stephen saw his brother crying to his father, which he guessed why. He came back to the house for a trash bag, explaining to his wife that the wind blew the Blue Jay nest off the tree. Stephen couldn't find the tree. It all looked the same to him. He wasn't in the mood to see him anymore. He could take his whole family to see his house tomorrow. He'll tell them about the chicks and storms, at least the version his parents believe. He'll tell them how his brother eventually grew up to study photography in college. When his kids ask if he ever became a photographer, he'll say that no plans are meant and give a speech about the importance of hard work combined with passion. As he was getting his family in the car to go home, a Blue Jay landed on his windshield. It flew off leaving a white spot where it sat. The family laughed, Stephen most of all. He laughed at the universe's silly attempt to get even.