Down by the river

Gavin sat down on the bank of the river and squinted from the sunlight. Casting a knowing eye over the water in wonder of the stillness, the tranquillity and beauty. He took a deep breath and hoped his lungs filled with the purity of nature. Only out here did he feel himself. Away from here, he felt as though he were a stranger, a man biding his time serving penance. 

Thwak! His moment of introspection evaporated in an abrasive second. The sound had come from his son chucking a tall fishing rod onto the ground, which landed just next to him. Jumping to his feet and swivelling ninety degrees to face the boy, he fixed a hard stare into those eyes, a facsimile of his own. He could feel the roaring tsunami of anger rising up to his temples. He only had a fraction of a second to switch to his calm and sensible mode. 

“Geez, Roy. You scared me there. Be careful with that rod, son. It’s strong but not unbreakable and it costs a lot of money too”

He ruffled Roy’s thick blonde hair and smiled. Roy looked up at his father with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, dad”

Gavin could never get over how much Roy resembled his own father, Lawrence. Lawrence died just before Roy was born and before he and Gavin could reconcile their differences. The things left unsaid had caused years of irreparable damage. Looking at Roy, Gavin was determined that history did not repeat itself. 

“Apology accepted. Now, let’s see what we’ve brought from the car”

They were wearing avocado green waders that came up to their knees, khaki fly-fishing vests with pockets lined up as proud as a general’s war medals. Gavin had a pair of polarising sunglasses perched on his head, nestled on his hair that was still there, despite his fifty years of age, but now going grey. Father and son were standing just six feet from the water, underneath a small tree that afforded them a modest amount of shade from the bright morning sun. On the ground, at the foot of the tree, lay all the equipment. 

“This,” said Gavin as he waved his right hand over the gear,” is everything we need for a great day, Roy. Some of it, I know you have never seen before. So, before we begin, let’s get acquainted with each thing. It’s a lot to take in. But don’t worry, just listen as best as you can today. Each time we come here to fly-fish, you’ll become more familiar with each piece of kit. 

Let’s start with this big box. It’s the most important thing here. It’s all our sandwiches, snacks and drinks”

Roy laughed and gave Gavin a playful punch on the shoulder. Gavin felt a surge of joy that threaten to make his heart explode. He had missed Roy so much in the last few months since the divorce battle began. The cruelty of the accusations and conniving manoeuvres from his embittered soon-to-be ex-wife had drained Gavin emotionally and financially, but worst of all, it had robbed him of precious time with his boy. Never again would he allow that woman to destroy his happiness or that of his son. 

“Ok. Onto the serious bit. Over here, we have two rods. One for you and one for me. Each are nine feet long and made of TB carbon, good stuff, kiddo. The one with the blue stripe is yours and the one with the red stripe is mine. Notice, there is a handle at the bottom and a circular thing attached to the rod with wire coiled in it. This is a really important part called the reel. The wire is called a line. Inside the reel is a long line, which allows us to catch the fish far away from where we will be standing. That way, we won’t be distracting the fish and it makes it easier for them to be caught. Got that?”

Roy nodded and Gavin gave him a reassuring pat of the back.

“Good. Here’s the technical bit, which you don’t need to remember but it’s cool to know, I think. Firstly, the rod itself is very light and that’s no good when you’re catching a fish that weighs more than nothing. So, you have to counterbalance the lightness. The reel does just that and it’s got a special name, Arbor. It’s made out of aluminium. Even the line wound up inside the reel is special. That line is really long, more than a hundred feet. But it’s not just one long line. It’s actually four lines of different weight and thickness tied together.”

Roy was looking at Gavin, but it was almost impossible to tell if Roy was simply gazing his eyes on the only human around or he was actually listening to the words coming out of Gavin’s mouth. Roy was only ten years old. Gavin was more used to dealing with hardened macho men in hard hats on construction sites, who hung on his every syllable, as the architect of monumental buildings.

“Hey kiddo. Do you remember when you were in the boy’s scout? You used to come home and show me how to do various types of knots.”

Roy broke into a smile and nodded. “I can still do them, dad. Me and Ben tie up stuff all the time”

Gavin pushed down the urge to correct his son’s grammar. It irked him and, on any other day, he would have immediately corrected Roy. But today, he let it go. He wanted this boy to feel enthusiastic about a new hobby, fly-fishing. Something they could do together, bond over the calmness that they both desperately needed in their fragile lives. 

“Well, son, I think you’ll like what’s coming up. Imagine a really long line. One end is tied inside the Arbor and the other end goes into the water to hook the fish. The hook end has a bait called a fly. You get it? That’s why we call it fly-fishing. This is no ordinary kind of fishing. We don’t use worms, but we’ll come back to that later.”

Roy sat down on the grass cross legged. “I got it, dad. This is the big kind of fishing”

Gavin laughed. “That’s a matter of opinion, kiddo. Let’s just call it the ‘special’ kind of fishing.”

“So, back to the line. We start with the bit tied to the Arbor itself. That bit is then tied to the thickest and strongest part, called the ‘Backing’ line, with an Arbor knot. Yeah, you see, your first knot.”

Roy grinned, clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Alright, here we go, dad”

“Here we go, kiddo. The Backing line in this Arbor is about a hundred and fifty feet long. Its wound up very tightly inside here. You’re not likely to ever need your Backing line catching trout in the river. But’s it there if you ever need it. The Backing line is then tied to the Fly-line with an Albright knot. The Fly-line inside here is a hundred feet long. You’re going to see it when you cast the line. We’ll get to casting a line later. That’s the action of swinging the rod in such a way as to get the line way out into the river. I think it’s the fun bit of fly-fishing. 

Anyhow. The Fly-line is tied to the Leader with a Nail knot. The Leader we’ve got here is nine foot long.”

“Wow! This line just goes on and on, dad.” 

“It sure does, kiddo. And we’re not even done yet. There are two more lines left. The Leader is tied to the Tippet by a Surgeon’s knot. Cool name, right? The Tippet is about three feet long. You’ll see, or maybe you won’t, when it comes out that it’s almost invisible. Can you guess why?”

“So, you can’t see it.”

“Who is ‘you’, Roy?”

“You and me, dad.”

“Sure, that’s right. But who else?”

“Oh, yeah! I get it. The fish”. Roy thrust his right arm in the air, as if he had launched a rocket, and his whole body filled with mirth. 

“Exactly! You’re a quick learner, kiddo. Last part of the line. At the very end of the Tippet, we have the fly. This is the bait. It floats on the water and looks like an insect. The fish think its food and so they grab it. At that point, we’re got ourselves a catch and we need to reel it in. Like I said before, the fly is not a worm in fly-fishing. It’s kind of an art to make a good fly. We can learn how to make a fly another time. For today, I’ve got a supply of ten ready-made flies in this waterproof box called, what for it, the fly box.”

They laughed as if it was an in-joke between them. Gavin could not remember a time he had been this close to his son. What had happened along the way? Was it because he spent so much time away from home, so much time working? Was it because, when he was at home, he and Marie argued all the time? He could not be the senior partner of the award-winning architect firm, a fully attentive husband to a depressive wife and the coolest dad in the world to a boy who simply did not know how to deal with his mother’s dark demeanour. As much as he tried, Gavin could not reach inside Marie’s world and give her the help she needed.

“Hey. Let’s take time-out and crack open the treasure trove.”

“Treasure trove? Where dad? Geez, we’ve got treasure!”

“Whoa, easy tiger. The treasure trove is the sandwich and snacks box.”

“Dad!” Roy giggled and jumped on Gavin, who swung him round onto his back and hoisted him up to his broad shoulders. 

“Roy, champion of the world.” Gavin raised Roy’s hands in the way a boxer does when he has won a heavy-weight title. 

“Don’t you mean ‘Danny, champion of the world’?”

“Nah. Dahl can keep his Danny. I’ve got Roy.”

Putting Roy back down on the ground, Gavin sat and patted the spot next to him. 

“Sit down, champ. We need to have a talk.”

Roy did as he was told and ran his hands over the short blades of grass, changing the shade from light to dark with each stroke, as though it was made of velvet. Gavin could feel his apprehension. 

“It’s been six months now since I moved out of the house into my own apartment. Mom and I are not officially divorced yet, but it’s only a matter of time. You know mom’s not that well in herself. She’s getting help with a mind doctor called a psychologist. She’s going to get better. That’s why Aunt Jenny comes around a lot to see you guys. She’s making sure mom is okay and you’re okay. I guess she takes you out sometimes. Is that right?”

“Yeah, she does. Usually to the shops to get some groceries, which is boring. Once, she let me have an ice-cream but made me promise not to tell mom.”

“And you’re telling me.”

“You’re not going to tell mom, are you?”

“No, kiddo. Your mom and I don’t talk anymore. That’s kind of what I want to say to you, Roy. Things are going to be different. Mom and I live in different places. We won’t see each other at all, except for the times when we’re picking you up for our weekends together. But just because mom and I don’t want to talk to each other anymore, doesn’t mean you and I need to stop talking. In fact, quite the opposite. I’d like us to talk a lot more. We can talk over the phone every day. We can hang out, just the two of us, and do boys stuff. Would you like that?”

“Yeah. You bet”

Gavin squeezed Roy’s left shoulder and smiled. He took a dozen frames of Roy’s gleaming face with the camera of his mind’s eye. He wanted to store the pictures in his memory bank, forever, to remind him of what mattered in this life. 

“And what do you think you’d like to do?”

“Fly fishing!”