At the River Pools

It was a clear spring morning when Tom was recounting the adventures he had had at the river
near the outskirts of town to his little brother Jim, a river frequented by boys who occasionally
went there fishing with their dads. But to Jim it was a place he had never been allowed nor had
the chance to venture. First of all, his dad didnt seem keen on fishing, being the type who
mostly spent his time dozing on the porch and not doing much else. Secondly, his brother was
hesitant to risk any other attempt at taking Jim there. The last time they had sneaked off
(unbeknownst to their parents, who had made it strictly clear that they were not allowed to cross
the town border) Jim only made it halfway because he complained that he was too tired to go on
(in reality he was afraid because it had been getting dark...but he kept that to himself).

Presently, in the garden, Tom couldnt stop jabbering about his new adventures (Its a wonder
their parents hadnt found out that he continues to sneak off to that river, Jim thought). It made
Jim feel left out, and he wished that he had not been so scared the last time, and so he took the
chance to show his bravery.
Let me come this time, he pleaded, looking at Tom with decision.
Ok, but if you start complaining again, you return home on your own, dark or not, Tom said.

So it was agreed upon.

That afternoon after lunch, at the convenient time when their father was dozing away, their
mother back at work and, in Jims case, the dark not immediately upon them, they took out their
bikes and creeped out of the shady garden into the hot bare pavement. They peddled along as
Tom told a story about a giant fish he had seen in one of the pools. Jim was fascinated, and
almost swerved off the road with his awe and distraction. But in the end they both made it in one
piece. They ditched their bikes near an orchard and walked down a narrow bushy trail until they
arrived at the river that was bursting and bustling with the recent spring showers, the fragrance

of orange blossoms sweet in the air. Tom led the way along a bank of lilies, heading upriver
towards the pools. The fish was all that was in Jims mind. In fact, he couldnt take his skittering
eyes off the water in search of it. Until he heard the calls, that was.

They trudged along, jumping over logs and rocks, and it suddenly came and stopped them dead
in their tracks: Their father calling their names. They stood there, flabbergasted, unable to
believe their ears. Had he seen them sneaking away and then followed? Surely he couldnt
have given up his doze.
But surely enough, it was their father, calling just around a bend.
Dont you boys be hiding. I seen your bikes near the road, he called.
The boys kicked themselves for not hiding their bikes amongst the bushes, and they continued
standing there, frozen like statues, until their father turned the bend and came staggering
towards them, huffing and puffing with rosy cheeks and sweat trickling down his face...and they
couldnt believe their eyes either.
I.. I knew you boys were coming up here during me naptime, little sneaks that you are he said,
and your mother knows as well. Now help me here with this fish basket.
The boys just stared at him, dumbfounded, holding a fish basket, and a fishing rod tied to his
back.
Since I cant stop yuh, I thought I should come down here and teach you boys how to fish, like
your old grandad taught yuh dad,
It was a lucky outcome, and they quickly helped with the fish basket, almost stumbling in the
attempt as if afraid their father would change his mind and berate them after all, and up they
went to the pools. They spent the whole afternoon, soon accompanied by older boys and girls
who noisily arrived, with Jim quite cheerful amidst it all, at his first ever trip to the pools.