“I suppose all we can do is just buckle up and hang on for the ride.” Carla smiled as Erica’s three sons splashed and played in the creek that ran the length of the Sims property. It was just down the hill from Grandma Betty’s house. “You especially,” she said. “With those three little guys, you’re going to need to cinch that seat belt real tight and probably wear a helmet as well. Because your ride is going to be a bit bumpy.”
“Oh, I’d be happy with bumpy. I’m afraid I’m in for more of a rollercoaster type deal at this point. Deep dips and crazy loops.”
“If anyone can handle it, it’s you. You’re a wonderful mother. And the boys…they are beautiful.”
“Quit,” Erica said, tossing bits of grass at her. “I done enough crying this past week.”
“Ya’ll stop it!” Denny, Erica’s oldest, yelled at his two younger brothers. “You’re scaring away the crawdads!” But his brothers continued to play and screech, and Denny picked up his fishing pole and pulled the line from the water. He threw up his hand in obvious frustration when he saw that his hook was void of bait. Again.
“Carla, will you put more bread on for me?” he asked as he carried his rod to her.
“Sure, Bubba,” she said, calling him by the endearment his mother and brothers used for him. She opened the bag of white bread and tore off a small piece. “You don’t need much, see. Just a little piece. Then you just roll it up into a ball and stick it through your hook.” She demonstrated.
“Are you sure bread’s gonna work?”
She smiled. It was their first time fishing for crawdads, and he’d been confused when she said they didn’t need typical fishing bait.
“Oh, it will, I promise.” she said. “Bread is all I ever used as a kid and I caught all kinds of crawdads. And fish, too.” She’d promised the boys she’d take them fishing for crawdads upon their arrival from Asheville a few days before. Needless to say, that’s all they’d talked about. Somehow, she and Erica had managed to put them off until after the funeral.
“Fish? In this creek?”
She smiled again, amused by his disbelief.
“You bet. Quite a few, actually.”
“You probably mean those little tiny fishes, huh? Those don’t count.”
“No, I’m talking some pretty good sized fish. In fact, I lost three poles in this creek to big fish.”
Denny’s eyes widened and his two younger brothers, Victor and Val, who were twins, came up beside him, having overheard the story.
“Really? How big were they?” Victor asked.
“Huge. They got hooked on my bait when I left my pole on the ground and then they flew down the creek, dragging my pole along with them.”
“What did you do?” Val asked.
“What did I do? I ran after my fishing rod! All three times. But I wasn’t quick enough, and those dang fish took my poles with them, right on down the creek. I never saw those fishing poles again.”
“For really, Carla?” Victor, who was only discernible from Val by the small freckle below his eye, asked in his four-year-old fashion.
“Yes, love, for real. But after that third time, I sat my butt down, sat real still, and I held my pole. Because Grandma Betty made it very clear that I wouldn’t be getting another one.”
The boys looked at one another.
“We better hang on to our poles,” Victor said.
They returned to the creek, grabbed their poles, and sat promptly on the ground. Denny, however, turned and gave her a big, toothless smile.
“Thanks, Carla,” he said.
“For what, Bubba?”
He cupped his mouth and whispered. “For making them sit still. Now maybe I can catch something.”
He sat next to his brothers and they looked like three little towheaded urchins, sitting side by side.
Carla leaned back on her hands once again.
She and Erica soaked up the sun and the silence.
“I’m worried about Daddy,” Erica eventually said, referring to Cole. “He ain’t said very much since we got here. Not even to the boys.”
“You noticed that, too, eh?” She could tell he was shutting down, but she’d hoped having Erica and the boys here would help.
“You know how he thinks he should be able to save everyone. And when he can’t, he can’t deal.”
I can relate.
“Someone very wise recently told me that there is no one way to grieve. Everyone goes about it in their own way.”
Truth was, none of them were doing great. And they probably weren’t grieving in what was considered a healthier fashion. But they hadn’t faced a loss of this magnitude since Carla’s mother passed some thirty-five years before. Taking that into consideration, along with the fact that they were all very sensitive people who loved big and loved deeply, she thought they were doing pretty good to be functioning at all.
“And don’t think I haven’t noticed your behavior too, Carla.”
“Me?”
“You’ve been despondent, and you’re damn near skeletal.”
“Oh, come on, Erica.” She waved her off.
Erica rolled her eyes. “I ain’t the only one worried, Carla. Maurine—”
“Maurine’s not one to talk.”
“No, she’s not. But she’s noticed. And so has Janice. She talked to me about it at the funeral.”
“Janice?” She wondered if that was before or after their private conversation under the tree.
“She said you looked exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” she said, still thinking about Janice and her concern for her. Was she wrong or did she seem to be more concerned about her now than she ever had before? Was that simply because of her loss, or was there something more? “Would I be out here with you and the boys if I was as despondent as you say?”
“Yes.”
She shot her a look.
“You would, Carla. Because you wouldn’t want me to worry and you wouldn’t want to disappoint the boys.”
Carla sighed, defeated by Erica’s accurate insight.
“Janice is right. You are exhausted,” Erica said. “That’s very obvious.”
“I won’t argue with you on that.”
Val turned around with a big grin, oblivious to their conversation. “I think I got me one!”
“Really?” Carla went to him, glad to be distracted. “Okay, pull your line from the water real slow.” She helped him lift it carefully from the creek. And all three boys guffawed when they saw the dark brown crawdad dangling on the end, one claw gripping the bread.
“Whoo, doggie!” Val said. “I got me a big one!”
“Set him down,” she said gently, leading them away from the water. “Once he feels the ground he might let go.”
They gathered around as Val lowered his line to the ground. The crawdad released the bait and Carla pinched it behind the head and held it up.
“Okay, you want to be gentle when you hold them so they don’t get hurt. Anyone wanna give it a try?”
They backed away. “Nuh-uh.”
She laughed. “Okay, then get some creek water in your bucket and bring it here.”