After the Rain: Holding On

Mr. Cooper, who’d been mid-story, glanced over and grinned. “You can’t even fish, yet you come here to make trouble.”

For some reason, aside from Mr. Cooper, the other anglers always seemed to have it out for my dad.

I always wondered if it was just small-town gossip, or if Dad really rubbed people the wrong way.

“Who knows where George Rivers has wandered off to again? I’m out here with Emily looking for him.”

Mrs. Parker, never one to hold back, told them about Dad getting lost.

“Mr. Cooper, how long have you been here? Have you seen my dad?”

I felt a little embarrassed, but still asked.

“Your dad wouldn’t come at this time. We haven’t even started tossing in bait yet.”

A balding old man chimed in, and others started laughing.

“Frank, don’t talk nonsense in front of the kid.”

Mr. Cooper was clearly annoyed and snapped at the man next to him.

“What did I say? Didn’t George always like to get something for nothing when he was young?”

That old man wasn’t easy to deal with, and started airing out Dad’s past right in front of me.

“I remember clearly, every time I threw small fish into my bucket, he’d always come over.”

So, one of my father’s hobbies was this. I felt a bit embarrassed.

“Tsk, just a freeloader.”

Even though I didn’t want to admit it, what the old man said hit home.

After all, my impression of Dad was always those few words—achieved nothing, lazy, biggest bragger I know.

“Nonsense, George never took a single fish home. He always released them.”

Mr. Cooper was really mad now and stood up.

“George really wasn’t good at fishing, but he was kind. Every time, he kept the little bluegill and perch in a bucket of water, then walked three miles to release them into a pond.”

Mr. Cooper was already a bit agitated, so it must be true.

“He’s sick now. Don’t wrong him anymore.”

“Mr. Cooper, it’s hot, please don’t get upset.”

Afraid the old man might get unwell, I quickly pulled him to the shade.

“Mr. Cooper, have some cold drink and calm down.”

I opened a cold soda and handed it over.

Sweat slid down his graying forehead. This middle-aged man from my memory was no longer the spirited youth of the past.

“They can talk nonsense all they want, but to say it in front of you… It’s just that your dad is a bit muddled now, otherwise I wouldn’t bother arguing with them.”

Mr. Cooper’s eyes were misty, lost in memories of the past.

“Your dad was always kind, not just to people, but also to small fish and critters.”

“Emily, don’t listen to those people. Your dad never took advantage of anyone.”

Though still sweating, Mr. Cooper’s eyes were sharp, not allowing anyone to slander my father.

“Ben, did George really love fishing? I remember he never ate fish.”

Mrs. Parker couldn’t hold it in and asked her doubt.

“He didn’t eat, but someone at home did, right?”

Mr. Cooper answered vaguely, and I immediately understood.

“At first, I loved fishing. Your dad saw it a few times and asked about it. Actually, fishing doesn’t take much skill, it’s just to kill time.”