The Sky Fisherman Read Free Page B

touched it lightly to her lips. "I have interests," she said. "There's the boy." She tipped the glass slightly in my direction. "And I'm very interested in travel. Now you must excuse me. I've got to think about supper." With that she folded her magazine and headed into the house.

    From Griggs, it was three miles to Griggs Junction, a combination restaurant and truck stop crested with a blue neon eagle whose flashing wings imitated flying. On paydays, Riley enjoyed taking us there for what he called a fling, and as we drove in he'd wave at all the truck drivers and call out, "How's it going, George?" He had greeted strangers the same way ever since I had known him, and when I was younger, I had marveled that he knew so many men named George.
    This night my mother had put on a cool green dress that emphasized the green in her hazel eyes. As she looked out the window at the parking
lot filled with trucks, she seemed restless. When she put on a pair of new sunglasses she must have bought in town, I swear she could have been a movie star, sharp nose or not.
    Grinning, Riley looked at me as if to say, "How'd you think I ever got so lucky?"
    "Do you have any fresh fruit?" my mother asked the waitress when she came to take the orders. "It's so hot today, I'm feeling like a fruit salad would be just the thing."
    The waitress scowled at the question. "We had some bananas but the flies got them." She tapped her pen against the pad to get the ink going. "Sure has been hot. Earlier, they couldn't get the kitchen fans working, and it's like a boiler room back there. Honey, let's see now, we've got some canned peaches and cottage cheese. Or some pears."
    "Pears and cottage cheese would be just fine," my mother said and handed her the folded menu.
    "I sure do like that dress," the waitress said. "It probably doesn't come in my size."
    Riley and I had cheeseburgers as always, and I had a large chocolate shake. This was only late June, and I figured July and August were going to be unbearable. I'd written a letter to my uncle Jake about trying to fix me up with a job in the sporting goods store, and I was wondering if it was air conditioned. I hadn't told Riley or my mother, but if the job came through, I knew she'd approve.
    A golden curtain above the counter opened and a little puppet band played music along with the juke box. My mother tapped her fingers to the tunes.
    "We should go dancing sometime," Riley said. "We haven't been dancing since that night in Black Diamond. Geez, that seems years ago."
    "It was," my mother said. "Black Diamond was Culver's first year in junior high school—five moves back."
    Riley winced a little. "I'm getting old fast."
    My mother glanced in his direction, but she didn't say anything.
    When the food came, Riley and I started eating ours, but my mother asked for a salad plate and then separated the pears from the cottage cheese. The cottage cheese did appear affected by the heat, and when she held a forkful to her nose, she wrinkled it. She cut the pears into very small bites and ate slowly. When she had finished and laid down her fork, Riley asked, "How was your salad, Flora?"
    "It's a sorry business, Riley," she said. "A very sorry business altogether. Excuse me, I'm going to need the ladies' room."
    After she was gone, Riley put another quarter in the jukebox, so the puppet band played again. "She's in a mood," he said.
    "It's been hot," I said, and sucked on my milk shake.
    He tried singing along with the music but he gave it up shortly. After what seemed a long time, he took the railroad watch from his pocket. "She must be having a session in there." A few more minutes passed. "She had one of those after we ate Chinese food that time in Grass Valley. You remember? She was gone over half an hour that time."
    "I remember all right," I said. I was only eleven then and didn't remember too clearly.
    He put a couple quarters on the table. "You pick them. Play something that snaps along a little. I'm