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A Different Pond

はるじぇー

A Different Pond

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(1) 0:33

Dad wakes me quietly so Mom can keep sleeping.

It will be hours before the sun comes up.

In the kitchen the bare bulb is burning.

Dad has been up for a while, making sandwiches and packing the car.

“Can I help?” I ask.

“Sure,” my dad whispers and hands me the tackle box.

The streetlights look brighter and the roads aren’t so busy before the sun comes up.

Dad turns on the heater and tells me stories.

A kid at my school said my dad’s English sounds like a thick, dirty river.

But to me his English sounds like gentle rain.

(2) 1:25

We stop at the bait store on Lake Street.

It always seems to be open.

“You’re here early today,” the bait man says.

“I got a second job,” my dad explains. “I have to work this morning.”

“On a Saturday?” the bait man asks.

My dad nods.

I feel the bag of minnows move.

They swim like silver arrows in my hands.

(3) 2:01

It’s still dark when we get to the pond.

We park the car and climb over the divider between the road and the trees.

My dad holds my hand and walks ahead through the tangle and scrub.

“Step where I step,” he says.

I am thinking about what Dad told the bait man. “If you got another job, why do we still have to fish for food?” I ask.

“Everything in America costs a lot of money,” he explains. I feel callouses on his hand when he squeezes mine.

(4) 2:41

Sometimes a Hmong man is at the pond. He speaks English like my dad and likes to tell funny jokes.

Sometimes there is a black man there, too. He shows me his colorful lure collection.

This time it is just me and my dad.

It is a little bit cold. I rub my hands together, yawn, and look up to see faint stars like freckles.

(5)

As Dad sets up in a clearing, I gather small, thin twigs for a fire. They need to be dry and clean.

I count one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and then ten more for later.

I put some rocks in a circle and set up the twigs. “Like a volcano,” Dad reminds me.

I set one end of each twig down, the other up, leaning them in so they rest against each other and hold each other up.

I get it to light with just one match. Dad nods.

(6)

“You want to put a minnow on the hook?” Dad asks.

I want to help, but I shake my head no. I don’t want to hurt that little fish, even if I know it’s about to be eaten by a bigger one.

My dad smiles. He isn’t upset with me.

(7)

Dad hands me a sandwich, cold bologna between two pieces of bread.

“Careful of the spicy stuff,” he says.

There’s half a peppercorn, like a moon split in two, studded into the meat.

“I used to fish by a pond like this one when I was a boy in Vietnam,” Dad says, biting into his sandwich.

“With your brother?” I ask. He nods, then looks away.

Dad tells me about the war, but only sometimes. He and his brother fought side by side. One day, his brother didn’t come home.

(8)

The bobber dips in the dark and Dad pulls. “Got one!” he says, almost shouting.

A crappie!

And soon another. “Can I help?” I ask.

He nods and I use two hands to help guide the fish into the bucket. The fish feels slimy and rough at the same time. Dad laughs at the funny face I make.

(9)

Dad smiles, his teeth broken and white in the dark, because we have a few fish and he knows we will eat tonight.

Time to go home. Dad must get ready for work. He washes his hands with a small nub of green and white soap. Then I do the same.

I look at the trees as we walk back to the car. I wonder what the trees look like at that other pond, in the country my dad comes from.

(10)

By the time we get home, the sunlight coming through the windows is just a faint tint, blue and gray instead of gold.

At home Mom looks tired, but she smiles at the fish in the big white bucket.

My dad changes his clothes and gets ready to go to work.

He pats me on the back and says to Mom, “Our boy did a good job with the fire today.”

“You learn so quickly!” Mom says. Then she asks me to help with the fish before she has to go to work, too.

I’m sad that she and Dad must leave, but not too sad. I know that later on they will both come home.

“Look after your baby brother,” Mom reminds my brothers and sisters. She means me. Then she gets on her bike and goes to work.

I am not a baby, I think to myself. I helped catch dinner.

(11)

Tonight, when we are all home, Dad will put rice in the cooker, and Mom will fry the fish on both sides until they are crispy. I will bring out the jar of fish sauce that has flecks of chili pepper and carrots floating on top.

At the table, my brothers and sisters will tell funny stories. Mom will ask about their homework. Dad will nod and smile and eat with his eyes half closed.

“Good fish,” he will say to me.

And I will smile and nod, and later, when we sleep, we will dream of fish in faraway ponds.

英単語・英語表現

(1)

(2) 1:25

(3) 2:01

(4) 2:41

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