One Fish, Two Fish, No Fish

A fish jumped out of the water not fifteen feet from the rowboat where my father and I sat.  On shore, I could hear the wind as it flowed through the gold and red leaves of the trees surrounding the lake.  Small waves tapped against the aluminum hull of the boat as my father cast out a line with a soft whir and a hollow plop as the lure landed in the water.
            “It’s so nice out here.  Quiet.”  He paused and scratched his chin. “So uh…Anything you wanna say to me, or talk about, Charles,” my father asked.  He was squinting.  He always seemed to be squinting.
            “Uh-uh.” I muttered, looking into the cold, inky-blue waters of Gull Lake.  The wind was kind of cold; it was almost autumn, but the sun felt warm on my face.
            “Not even about school or friends,” he paused, “or the house…or mom?”  He asked me, offering a smile I rarely saw.  I was quiet as I leaned over the side and watched my reflection on the surface of the water.  A large bubble floated up from the depths to break the image and I felt the cold water on my face from the splash.  Slowly, my dad reeled in his line. “I know it was only a month ago, but you gotta say something about it, Chuck.  You gotta talk about this sorta thing.”  Another fish leapt free of the water and he cast out toward that one.  I still remained silence.  I didn’t want to think about it.  He frowned some and leaned on his knees, pulling on the rod some to ‘tease the fish’ as he called it.  “I’m here for ya, Chuck.  Just remember that.”
            The silence of Gull Lake was somewhat soothing.  We’d gone every year.  This was the first time without mom.  Slowly the sun lost more of the sky to night, and light blue slowly turned a deep purple.
            “Dad, I think…I think I killed m-…” I began to speak, just as his fishing pole jerked and bent.
            “I think I got one, Chuck!”  He interrupted as he tugged on the fishing pole, locking the hook as he reeled the fish in madly.  “Quick!  Get the net.”  My confession stopped as I scrambled for the green nylon net.  The rowboat rocked with our movements, and the fish turned and swam under us in the boat.
            “It’s huge!”  I yelled excitedly, laughing some as my father fought it, trying to pull it back to the other side of the boat.  Unfortunately, it was in vain.  A slight twang of the line and a ping announced the fishing line broke.
            “Holy crap, Chuck.  That fish broke my ten-pound test.”  My dad said, amazed as he sat back in the boat.  I nodded solemnly and set the net down, sighing.  I had managed to get out of confessing yet again.  My father looked up at the stars that peered through the darkening sky.
            “Dad, lets head back in.”  I looked at the diamond reflections on the lake as he nodded and began to row us to the dock.
            It seemed two fish got away that day.