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That sweet smell of salt in the air brought back the memory of the endless battle and an adventure on a fishing trip with my father.
It was a frosty and bitter morning. I was in a nameless lake in the middle of the wilderness. My father and I were sitting in a small vessel waiting patiently for the kill. I watched the horizon intently as the sun slithered slowly higher. I looked at my Father; he was a tall man who had a calm look upon his face. He and I had never spent much time together before this trip. I had been a withdrawn anti-social teenager, he, a competitive, hardworking businessman.
There was a certain tension between us that chilly morning; something was bothering him but I couldn’t point my finger on it. The tension evaporated swiftly as the boat was given a massive tug and our fishing line bent to a near unrealistic C shape, where the tip was ready to torpedo into the lake below. This fear hit home as the rod ripped itself from my hands, my father thankfully caught hold before it went spiraling into the water. I scurried into the corner of the boat as the battle between my father and the beast begun.
I looked up at my father in amazement as he struggled with the beast. He stood, one foot on the edge of the craft struggling with the rod; trying to overcome the monster that was below us. The fish leapt out of the water, trying to free itself from the hook embedded into its slimy wet gill. For but an instant, the fish stood motionless, suspended in the air in a desperate attempt to survive. The distorted look upon its face showed the anguish and pain it felt. Even though my father raged to overcome the creature, I felt pity; as it flailed helplessly against the might of the fishing rod.
Suddenly the boat hit some hidden object under the surface, the front of the boat jerked upwards propelling my father and me out of the boat, into the murky depths of the lake. I was forced ever downwards into the dark liquid. I found myself struggling as I had somehow been entangled with the nylon of the fishing rod line. Trapped like a fly in a web I tried to free myself from it only to make its hold tighter. I looked around trying to find a source of light, something to give me a sense of direction. I couldn't see anything; my eyes stung from the dirt surrounding me. I was running out of time. I couldn’t hold my breath for much longer. I tried screaming, but with the help of the water, all that came was a muffled gurgle. The darkness slowly consumed me.
The father had been catapulted off the boat across the lake. Still holding the rod in his hand, there was no pressure left upon it. Dazed he stood up in the shallow water and gazed at his surroundings. His son was missing. Suddenly, the shock hit him; he dropped the rod into the water and looked across the river for any sign of his son. Peering from left to right, and then back again quickly, he caught a glimpse of bubbles of air surfacing on the far side of the lake. Swiftly, he dived into the expanse of the lake to save his son.
I couldn't stand it any longer. I couldn’t hold it off any more. This was the end. Nothing could save me now. There was no hope.
He reached the sons body, deep in the lake. Lifting his son's limp weak body, the father broke the surface of the river. He reached the bank of the lake and lay his son down softly on the dirt. Tears ran down the face of the man, as he checked for a pulse. Unwinding the coils of nylon from his son he started to beat his chest in an attempt to remove the water from the body. Realizing that it was no use he fell upon the pale, cold body mourning for the loss of his son.
I heard a soft whimper. I opened my eyes to see my father over me. I felt weak and tired. As my father saw my open his face changed from mourning to bliss. He looked like a hero, after saving the world.
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Next Stop ... Cliche Center
Posted May 21, 2008
It was a good story. It shows a loving father and a disgruntled son and how they become close again after a period of trouble.
It was a complete cliche, but I guess that there has to be one on a site like this so that people don't just keep submitting things like this. The story wa... (
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