“Aye, nice fer a change too, been a bit slow round here lately. What are you two fine fellers up ta this mornin’?”
“We came in to have a little coffee and a malt,” Evan said, shifting Shaun to his other hip. “Did the twins give you my message yesterday?”
Jacob scowled for a second, then smiled. “Ah, yes. Sorry, boyo, got home late yesterday evenin’ and thought ’twas too late ta call. Was on me list this mornin’, though.”
Evan nodded. “No problem. Actually, Arnold helped me out quite a bit. I’m working on an article concerning that clock that’s in the basement at the house, and I was looking for some background information on it. I didn’t know if you knew anything else about Abel Kluge and his wife.”
Jacob shook his head. “Those boys would know a fair bit more’n I would, all I ever heard was the man was a recluse, and not a kind one at that. No doubt they mentioned Cecil ta ya?”
“Yeah. She hung up on me when I called her.”
Jacob laughed. “Oh, that’s Cecil all right. She don’t come ta town more’n twice a year. Gets some groceries delivered every few weeks. You’ll be lucky if ya get ’er ta talk.”
Evan knew he was right. Part of him wanted to drive out to the woman’s house right then, bang on her door until she let him in, but that wasn’t how these things were done.
“We’ll see,” Evan said, with a smile. “Anyway, we wanted to do some fishing today, and we’re going to need some bait.”
Jacob’s face lit up. “Oh, that’ll be great. Sure, I’ll setcha up with some minners and crawlers.”
“I’m guessing I’ll need a license too,” Evan said.
“Let’s take care of that first,” Jacob said.
In a matter of minutes he had the small page filled out for Evan, asking him the occasional question. He then bustled around the shop, gathering a couple of small cartons, filling one with dirt and the other with water. When he’d finished, small, dark shapes flitting against the inside of the minnow container.
“Thanks so much,” Evan said.
He tried to walk toward the cash register at the far end of the store, but Jacob tightly held on to the bait and herded them toward the door.
“Get on with ya, can’t carry young Shaun here and the bait all at once.”
“Jacob, I’m going to pay you,” Evan said, reaching for his wallet.
“Three beers,” is all Jacob said, winking at him as he walked with them down to the pontoon.
After filling up the boat with gas, Jacob pointed to a small bay down the shoreline and told them about two other spots on the north side of the lake that were always good for a walleye or two. Evan thanked him and then piloted the craft away from shore, waving once at Jacob, who hurried back up the ramp to his store.
They stopped at the island to grab two fishing rods and then set off, eventually dropping anchor at the first spot Jacob had pointed out. Evan sat behind Shaun, helping him hold his rod and cast into the cool water, shaded by an overhanging birch tree. At first Shaun became frustrated as he tried to crank the reel, but soon he got the hang of it. Evan had to slow down his furious pace, otherwise the bait barely touched the water before the boy had it back in the boat.
After some time, he noticed something missing. Doing a mental check, he sat back, still steadying Shaun’s hands on the rod. The sun shone down on them from a cloudless spring sky. A few waves rocked the pontoon, and the far-off whine of a boat motor could be heard intermittently. He finally realized he felt peaceful. His mind wasn’t clogged with worry or apprehension, and the lack of it had thrown him off. Hugging Shaun close, he kissed his hair, just above his small ear.
“Shaun, are you having fun?” he whispered.
“Fun,” Shaun said, yanking the pole back as something tugged on the other end of the line.
“Wooo, you got one, buddy,” Evan exclaimed. “Reel it in. Reel it in.”
Shaun cranked and fought the fish until it gradually surfaced, flashing and leaping from the water in a shower of droplets beside the pontoon. Evan hauled the fish aboard when it got close enough, and Shaun shrieked with delight, flapping his arms so hard it was a struggle for Evan to balance him and unhook the bass at the same time.
“We’re keeping him, pal,” he said, putting the fish on a stringer. “Supper.”
“Sup-por,” Shaun echoed.
They whiled away the time until early afternoon, catching a small mess of fish for a meal. Shaun’s head kept dipping on the ride home, and Evan held him tight, smiling as his son fought to stay awake. Evan docked the pontoon and carried Shaun up to the porch, laying him on the most comfortable reclining chair. Shaun grinned at him once and then shut his eyes, exhaustion dragging him into sleep before he could say or do anything else.
While he slept, Evan cleaned the fish on a small wooden table he found to the north side of the house, his eyes shooting to the porch over and over.
We’re both going to have to sleep in the house tonight anyway.
He threw the fish guts in the woods and took the white fillets into the house to soak them in cold water. The urge to pick up the phone and invite Selena over for supper struck him, and he went so far as to pull her business card out of his wallet. Sliding it carefully into its slot again, he put it back and went to the porch.
Evan lay down on the daybed beside Shaun, the sleeplessness of the night before finally claiming him. The sun and fresh air paired with the low tinkling of the wind chimes became too lulling, and his last thought before he fell asleep was he should’ve propped a chair against the basement door.
He barely makes it into the hospital bathroom before throwing up. The vomit courses out of him, sloppy ropes landing in the toilet water. As he heaves he feels the round container in his hand, even though it isn’t there anymore; he’d dropped it back into the bag the moment he pulled it out.