Assisi: An Online Journal of Arts & Letters Volume 4, Issues 1 & 2 | Page 46

! like a bass or a pike. And he’d never in his life hooked a trout, the most highly prized of all freshwater fish. He twisted the top off the jar and smelled the eggs, which had a peculiar scent, like fresh gasoline, then dressed the hook again. If he kept losing his bait, he’d have to switch to worms, which he’d brought along in a small tin can, or, as a last resort, a spinner. For some reason, the flashing silver spoon was always considered the last resort. When he got used to being alone, the islet was a good place to be. Here he could let his mind wander and he wouldn’t catch hell for it. His father always angrily accused him of being a “daydreamer,” which meant that he wasn’t focused on the here and now, on the practical things like mopping the floor or mowing the lawn. But Mack couldn’t seem to help himself. Walking around with his head in the clouds was just the way he was. Maybe there was something wrong with him; he had to consider that possibility because he so often felt different, and he was afraid of feeling too different. Maybe he needed to “get with it,” as the nuns at school always admonished him. Maybe that was why he was such a failure in life. He didn’t understand why he was already a failure, but he was convinced that he was. If he forgot it, his father or someone else would be sure to remind him. “Kid, you’re as worthless as a tit on a bull!” His old man had accused him of that once, when he couldn’t get the fender of his car to sparkle and shine. Then, like the April breeze, his thoughts meandered in another direction altogether -- to Sheila Grady. Sheila, with her platinum blond hair and cornflower blue eyes. They were in the same grade together at school. She was the love of Mack’s life and he wanted to spend the rest of it with her. How that was going to happen, he didn’t know since he’d never really even spoken to her. In his fantasies it would though, his reasoning being that if he was in love with her, she must logically the