The Truth Beneath the Surface

Wait, how did he become a manager now?

If it was just Mrs. Parker’s memory, fine, but now another person—no one could coordinate a story this quickly, right?

“Mr. Jenkins, do you remember my dad too?”

This bespectacled man looked refined, with a bit of that old-school leader style.

“Your dad was famous back then. Whether it was overseeing production or reform, he was top-notch.”

“I remember he was the office manager, working late every day. On the only two days off a month, even the plant manager wanted him to organize training sessions for everyone.”

Thinking of the past, Mr. Jenkins spoke with some regret: “It was only because your dad insisted on transferring to the workshop that, when the plant manager changed, who would take over became uncertain.”

Faced with this sudden fact, I was clearly a bit stunned.

For a man, his future is almost the most important part of his social existence.

Why give up such a good future and go to the workshop instead?

The only answer could be—maybe his priorities were different, even when he was young.

“Why did he want to go to the workshop?”

“Because the office had long day shifts, but you couldn’t leave at night. There were only two days off a month. But a worker’s position was different—four days on, then three days off.”

He looked at me, smiling with some regret and affection. “Your dad said his daughter was too young, and even if he slept at work, he couldn’t rest easy. George Rivers didn’t waste it when he gave up his future for you. Now you’ve finally made something of yourself.”

Mr. Jenkins’ words were full of the older generation’s sense of sacrifice.

“Oh right, you said Mr. Rivers is sick. What’s wrong?”

Mrs. Parker began to talk in detail about my dad’s illness.

I was a bit anxious.

I wanted to find my dad and ask him clearly.

“I’ll visit Mr. Rivers when I have time.”

After saying goodbye to the enthusiastic Mr. Jenkins, Mrs. Parker and I hurried to the next place.

I bought a cold drink for Mrs. Parker, feeling more and more guilty. “Mrs. Parker, you really have worked too hard.”

“It’s nothing. In this hot weather, where could your dad go?”

She waved me off, taking a long sip from her drink, sweat beading on her forehead. Even in the heat, she never complained.

I soon had an idea. If he’s not at the mill, he must be by the lake.

“There’s a fishing lake up ahead. Let’s check there.”

“Mr. Rivers likes fishing? Really?”

Mrs. Parker looked doubtful. This was the second disagreement we’d had today.

But that’s nothing. After all, Mrs. Parker and my dad were just neighbors and colleagues.

They didn’t live together 24 hours a day, so it’s normal not to know each other’s hobbies.

“He likes it. He used to go a lot.”

To confirm, the meticulous Mrs. Parker immediately started searching her memory for evidence.

“Impossible. Your dad doesn’t even eat fish. How could he spend a whole day fishing? I remember once at a big mill picnic, we set up grills for fish fry…”

“The smell was amazing, but he didn’t eat a single bite.”

Mrs. Parker was adamant, as if it had happened yesterday.

Hearing her recall, I seemed to remember some past life fragments.

I especially love eating fish—sea or river, grilled or fried.

Even sushi, which many people can’t stomach, I always enjoy immensely.

“Eat more fish, it’ll make you smart. My daughter will definitely be the brightest.”

In my memory, Dad always picked out the bones for me, leaving just the tender fish meat.

And he, really, didn’t seem to eat fish.

At least, in front of me, I hardly ever saw it.

“Hmm… let’s look anyway. It’s not far from home. Maybe he just wandered over.”

“Fine, finding your dad quickly is the main thing.”

Half convinced, Mrs. Parker followed me on.

The dog days of summer were sticky, but it didn’t stop the anglers from gathering at the lake.

Sweat trickled down my back as we made our way toward the water, cicadas humming in the trees, the air thick with heat and anticipation.

From far away, I heard Mr. Cooper, an elder from my childhood, chatting loudly.

“I’m telling you, fishing is a test of patience. Those who can stick it out here are all…”

“Ben, still bragging here.”

Mrs. Parker called out to Mr. Cooper without hesitation.

“Mrs. Parker, you’ve scared the fish away.”