Wandering Aimlessly

 

Last Day of Freedom

by Phil Burkhouse

 

I had been promising the three grandsons since April that we would spend a day fishing for natives real soon.  Early in the season the boys didn’t want to hear about natives because the big waters held denizens of the deep recently released from the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission’s great white fleet.  Summer flew by; after our return from Wyoming Big Jake said, “Don’t forget, Papa, we still have to go native fishing.”  More time flew by and finally Jake informed me, “I only have one more day of freedom left, and I want to go native fishing tomorrow.”  All three boys had been working hard with me on a variety of chores, so on their last day of freedom before school we dug out cash and bought worms instead of digging them and headed for natives.

 

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