Scarecrow and Mrs. King
“Just Fishing”
Written by Anne Riener
Author’s note: Did I ever mention I don’t do song fiction? I detest it. I don’t do songfic. I don’t do songfic. Therefore, what did I do? I wrote a song fic story. I heard this song on the radio and this story came to my mind. Please, forgive me.
Just Fishin’ written by Casey Beathard, Monty Criswell, and Ed Hill and recorded by Trace Adkins. Lyrics offset by bold italics.
“Just Fishing”
Written by Anne Riener
Author’s note: Did I ever mention I don’t do song fiction? I detest it. I don’t do songfic. I don’t do songfic. Therefore, what did I do? I wrote a song fic story. I heard this song on the radio and this story came to my mind. Please, forgive me.
Just Fishin’ written by Casey Beathard, Monty Criswell, and Ed Hill and recorded by Trace Adkins. Lyrics offset by bold italics.
The seafoam green and white Ford Fairlane Victoria rolled to the parking spot overlooking a covered bridge. The whitewashed enclosed sideboards and shingled roof were warped and weathered with age, but still structurally sound. The man driving the car shifted the automatic transmission into park and surveyed the scenery around him. The first vestiges of day were shadowing through the treetops and vibrant colors of reds, pinks, and oranges washed over the Virginia countryside, while a doe and her baby grazed down by the riverbank. He thought about continuing to commune with nature in all its solitude, but then glanced over at his companion in the front seat next to him. She was a six-year-old pixie, dressed in a grey jumper and a pink button-down blouse and black and white saddle shoes with ankle-length creamy-white socks. Her dark brown hair was braided back for today's excursion as she leaned her pretty head against the passenger door, clutching her doll, Lois Ann.
Carl West gently nudged his daughter. “Wake up, sleepy head.”
“Are we there?” Amanda asked, yawning and stretching.
“You bet.” Carl reached over and grabbed the tackle box and the fishing poles from the backseat. Next, he grabbed the red checkerboard-lined picnic basket, his wife and Amanda’s mother had prepared for them, and handed it to his little girl. They then walked hand-in-hand toward the river. Amanda, not standing much higher than his waist, looked up at him and gave him a big toothless grin. Her dark chocolate-brown eyes, that mirrored his own, shined at him, and his heart melted.
When they reached their favorite fishing place, he baited her hook and handed her the pink rod and reel. He showed her how to cast the fishing line into the water and then threw his own. The red and white float landed with a soft plunk, before bobbing back to the surface. They sat beside each other, their feet dangling off the edge of the dock, while the morning sun burned off the low hanging clouds.
Amanda rambled a mile-a-minute, asking him endless questions about rainbows and why birds had wings and little girls did not. Carl smiled and nodded at her inquisitive nature. She chatted about the kittens she had found in the barn at Uncle Chester’s farm, and about everything she was being taught in the first grade, and her ballet lessons, and learning how to ride a bike.
Finally getting a word in edgewise, he asked, “Why don’t you get the thermos out that your Mother packed for us?”
“Okay.” Amanda opened the picnic basket, pulled out a large red thermos, and handed it to him. She then handed him two mugs.
Twisting off the cap, he poured the hot liquid into the two cups.
‘Don’t forget the marshmallows.”
“Now, do you think I would forget the marshmallows?” He tweaked her nose and she giggled. Then reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small bag of marshmallows.
She squealed with delight when he placed four of the sugary confections into the mug and stirred it into her hot cocoa.
"Love you, Panda."
"I know, Daddy,” she told him, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.
All of a sudden, her fishing line went taut. “I think I got a bite!" Amanda exclaimed. Putting her cup down on the dock, she then struggled to reel the fish in. Carl stood behind her and helped her reel in the small rainbow trout. Once they netted it, Amanda raised her hands triumphantly into the air. A large toothless grin and a chocolate mustache covered her freckled face. "Daddy, can we do this again sometime?"
"Of course, we can, Sweetheart. Are you having fun?"
“Yes, I love going fishing with you.”
After they had caught their limit and had enjoyed the picnic lunch, a sleepy Amanda began to lull her head against his shoulder. He whispered, “Hey, Honey, how about we leave here and head on over to Cobb’s Corner for a root beer float? It will be our little secret.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nodded her sleepy head, as he picked her up and headed toward the car. “I’m good at keeping secrets, Daddy.”
I’m lost in her there holdin’ that pink rod and reel
She’s doin’ almost everything but sittin’ still
Talkin’ ‘bout her ballet shoes and training wheels
And her kittens
And she thinks we’re just fishin’
I say, “Daddy loves you, baby” one more time
She says, “I know. I think I got a bite.”
And all this laughin’, cryin, smilin’ dyin’ here inside’s
What I call, livin’
*****
Carl leaned back on the dock and stretched his long legs out in front of him. It was a perfect late spring afternoon in Virginia. Water lapped gently against the old wooden pilings and leaves rustled in the cool breeze. The sun reflected off the river, radiating diamonds in the clear, blue sky. His fishing rod rested beside him, with the float bobbing in the swirling water. Two trout lay in the ice chest, ready to be fried for dinner at the campfire tonight. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, appreciating the scent of fresh grass, new growth, and the rich earthy smell.
Amanda sat beside him, dressed in dungarees rolled up to just above her ankles, a dark red cotton shirt, bobby socks and loafers. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tied with a red scarf that matched her shirt. She was reading her favorite book, Sky Chief Rides Again. Her beagle dog, Pinto, sat in her lap. She scratched his head and then checked her line. Feeling her line go taut, she reeled it in. Pinto barked excitedly and ran around in a circle. Amanda pulled out a fingerling – a fish too small to fry. Using a long needle nose pliers, Carl gently backed the hook out of the catch and release the creature back into the water. No longer squeamish about worms, Amanda baited her hook and cast the line again. Then laid back with her arms behind her supporting her head and stared up at the sky. Pinto hopped off the dock and began to roll around in the warm dirt.
Carl lay down beside her. “Aren't the clouds beautiful?”
“They look like giant balls of cotton,” Amanda agreed.
“I could sit here all day and watch them.” Resting on his elbow, he turned to look at her. Parental pride filled his bosom. “You know, if we use our imaginations, we can see all sorts of things in the clouds.” He pointed to a cluster of billowing clouds. “I see a duck. Look there, I can just make out the beak. Do you see it?”
“Yes. I see it.”
“And what do you see, Sweetheart?”
She stared up at the clouds and thought about it for a moment. “Well, I see President Lincoln.”
“Abe Lincoln?”
“Uh-ha. See, I can just make out his top hat.”
“Yes, I see it. Very good.”
“I also see a dragon.” She pointed to another cluster of white fluffy cumulus clouds.
“A dragon?”
“Yes. Did you know that we have dragons in our neighborhood?”
“No,” he teased in mock horror, but held a compassionate tone.
“They’re really fast and I just don’t know if I can go fast enough on my bike to get past them on my way to school.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye and continued to weave her tale. “Help, Daddy! I need a faster bike so the dragons don’t catch me.”
“Well, maybe we can see about getting you a new bike for your birthday. I wouldn’t want any dragons grabbing my Panda.”
She rolled towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He tickled her and she laughed.
“You have a great imagination and a very logical mind,” he told her. “Don’t ever change.”
“I won’t.”
Carl couldn't believe how fast his little girl was growing. It seemed like only yesterday she was six-years old and in the first grade. Now she was ten and growing like a weed. She had a wonderful personality and a cheery outlook on life. ‘So much like her mother, yet she looks like me.’ He shook his head incredulity. “Amanda?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She looked up at him with her big, trusting brown eyes.
“How are things at school?”
“Fine,” Amanda answered and then pressed her lips together. “I met this new girl this week at school. Her name is Debbie Ann. She’s kind of shy though.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. Then he lifted her off the ground and wrapped her in a big bear hug. “You’re so friendly; you could make friends with a scarecrow.”
“Daddy, you’re silly,” she giggled, rubbing her soft cheek against his rough whiskers.
And she thinks we’re just fishin’ on the riverside
Throwin’ back what we could fry
Drownin’ worms and killin’ time
Nothin’ too ambitious
She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’
*****
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and the sun was shining brightly on the warm spring day. The weather was warmer than normal for late April and Carl dipped his toes in the cool water, while loosely holding onto his fishing rod. It had been a few years since he had brought Amanda up here with him to fish. He could not believe how much time had flown by, now his sweet little girl was a teenager. He turned to observe her. She was wearing bright yellow pedal pushers, a white cotton t-shirt, and was barefoot. Her long brown hair she had worn down. He watched her perform cartwheels in the crabgrass near the riverbank.
Carl couldn’t help but marvel how blessed he was to have such a wonderful daughter, yet he also felt a pang of regret. She was as gorgeous as her mother and was turning into a very beautiful young lady, yet still very much a “Tomboy.” Part of him looked forward to seeing the woman his daughter would become, but part of him wanted her to stay just as she was today. Nevertheless, soon her interests would change and boys would be catching her eye and she would want to spend time with them, instead of her old man. However, he also looked forward to the day he would be walking her down the aisle and watching her raise children of her own. He had no doubt she would be a great mother. Suddenly, her voice broke him from his reverie.
“So, what do you think?”
“Huh? What was that, Panda?”
Her eyes narrowed and she wrinkled her nose. “I'm too grown-up for childish names.”
“Sorry, you’re right.” He took the fishing rod out of the water and rested it against the dock. “What do I think about what?”
“About me trying out for the cheer squad?”
“I think it is a great idea. You would be the most beautiful cheerleader on the team.”
Her cheeks blushed a slight shade of pink. “You think so?” She then gave him a radiant smile.
He grinned back at her. “How are things at school?”
“Good. I got an ‘A’ on my history quiz.” She sat down beside him and dipped her bare toes into the water.
He placed his hand on her knee. “Way to go. You studied hard for that test. I am proud of you.”
She then bit her lip and swung her long legs back and forth. Water sloshed against the pilings. “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“What do you think of Jeff Hawkins?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins son?” he asked.
She nodded her head, but averted her eyes.
“He seems like a very nice young man. Why?”
She placed her hands in her lap. “Well, he invited me to the Spring Fling dance.”
Understanding dawned on his features. “And you want to go with him?”
She slowly nodded her head again, and then brushed her hair back behind her ears.
“Will your sentence be over?”
Amanda turned to face him. “Yes.”
“And you asked your mother?”
“She told me to ask you.”
“I see.” He took in the deep breath and slowly blew it out. “As long as you are no longer grounded, I guess I am okay with you going to the Spring Fling with Jeff Hawkins, but next time, no hiding friends in the attic.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, baby girl.”
She then grabbed her fishing pole and after baiting the hook, she cast a line, just as he had taught her so many years ago. ‘Time may be ticking,’ he thought. ‘But this is living and she just thinks we’re fishing.’
She’s already pretty, like her mama is
Gonna drive the boys all crazy
Give her daddy fits
And I better do this every chance I get
‘Cause time is tickin’
Yeah, it is
And she thinks we’re just fishin’ on the riverside
Throwin’ back what we could fry
Drownin’ worms and killin’ time
Nothin’ too ambitious
She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’
Carl West gently nudged his daughter. “Wake up, sleepy head.”
“Are we there?” Amanda asked, yawning and stretching.
“You bet.” Carl reached over and grabbed the tackle box and the fishing poles from the backseat. Next, he grabbed the red checkerboard-lined picnic basket, his wife and Amanda’s mother had prepared for them, and handed it to his little girl. They then walked hand-in-hand toward the river. Amanda, not standing much higher than his waist, looked up at him and gave him a big toothless grin. Her dark chocolate-brown eyes, that mirrored his own, shined at him, and his heart melted.
When they reached their favorite fishing place, he baited her hook and handed her the pink rod and reel. He showed her how to cast the fishing line into the water and then threw his own. The red and white float landed with a soft plunk, before bobbing back to the surface. They sat beside each other, their feet dangling off the edge of the dock, while the morning sun burned off the low hanging clouds.
Amanda rambled a mile-a-minute, asking him endless questions about rainbows and why birds had wings and little girls did not. Carl smiled and nodded at her inquisitive nature. She chatted about the kittens she had found in the barn at Uncle Chester’s farm, and about everything she was being taught in the first grade, and her ballet lessons, and learning how to ride a bike.
Finally getting a word in edgewise, he asked, “Why don’t you get the thermos out that your Mother packed for us?”
“Okay.” Amanda opened the picnic basket, pulled out a large red thermos, and handed it to him. She then handed him two mugs.
Twisting off the cap, he poured the hot liquid into the two cups.
‘Don’t forget the marshmallows.”
“Now, do you think I would forget the marshmallows?” He tweaked her nose and she giggled. Then reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small bag of marshmallows.
She squealed with delight when he placed four of the sugary confections into the mug and stirred it into her hot cocoa.
"Love you, Panda."
"I know, Daddy,” she told him, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.
All of a sudden, her fishing line went taut. “I think I got a bite!" Amanda exclaimed. Putting her cup down on the dock, she then struggled to reel the fish in. Carl stood behind her and helped her reel in the small rainbow trout. Once they netted it, Amanda raised her hands triumphantly into the air. A large toothless grin and a chocolate mustache covered her freckled face. "Daddy, can we do this again sometime?"
"Of course, we can, Sweetheart. Are you having fun?"
“Yes, I love going fishing with you.”
After they had caught their limit and had enjoyed the picnic lunch, a sleepy Amanda began to lull her head against his shoulder. He whispered, “Hey, Honey, how about we leave here and head on over to Cobb’s Corner for a root beer float? It will be our little secret.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nodded her sleepy head, as he picked her up and headed toward the car. “I’m good at keeping secrets, Daddy.”
I’m lost in her there holdin’ that pink rod and reel
She’s doin’ almost everything but sittin’ still
Talkin’ ‘bout her ballet shoes and training wheels
And her kittens
And she thinks we’re just fishin’
I say, “Daddy loves you, baby” one more time
She says, “I know. I think I got a bite.”
And all this laughin’, cryin, smilin’ dyin’ here inside’s
What I call, livin’
*****
Carl leaned back on the dock and stretched his long legs out in front of him. It was a perfect late spring afternoon in Virginia. Water lapped gently against the old wooden pilings and leaves rustled in the cool breeze. The sun reflected off the river, radiating diamonds in the clear, blue sky. His fishing rod rested beside him, with the float bobbing in the swirling water. Two trout lay in the ice chest, ready to be fried for dinner at the campfire tonight. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, appreciating the scent of fresh grass, new growth, and the rich earthy smell.
Amanda sat beside him, dressed in dungarees rolled up to just above her ankles, a dark red cotton shirt, bobby socks and loafers. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tied with a red scarf that matched her shirt. She was reading her favorite book, Sky Chief Rides Again. Her beagle dog, Pinto, sat in her lap. She scratched his head and then checked her line. Feeling her line go taut, she reeled it in. Pinto barked excitedly and ran around in a circle. Amanda pulled out a fingerling – a fish too small to fry. Using a long needle nose pliers, Carl gently backed the hook out of the catch and release the creature back into the water. No longer squeamish about worms, Amanda baited her hook and cast the line again. Then laid back with her arms behind her supporting her head and stared up at the sky. Pinto hopped off the dock and began to roll around in the warm dirt.
Carl lay down beside her. “Aren't the clouds beautiful?”
“They look like giant balls of cotton,” Amanda agreed.
“I could sit here all day and watch them.” Resting on his elbow, he turned to look at her. Parental pride filled his bosom. “You know, if we use our imaginations, we can see all sorts of things in the clouds.” He pointed to a cluster of billowing clouds. “I see a duck. Look there, I can just make out the beak. Do you see it?”
“Yes. I see it.”
“And what do you see, Sweetheart?”
She stared up at the clouds and thought about it for a moment. “Well, I see President Lincoln.”
“Abe Lincoln?”
“Uh-ha. See, I can just make out his top hat.”
“Yes, I see it. Very good.”
“I also see a dragon.” She pointed to another cluster of white fluffy cumulus clouds.
“A dragon?”
“Yes. Did you know that we have dragons in our neighborhood?”
“No,” he teased in mock horror, but held a compassionate tone.
“They’re really fast and I just don’t know if I can go fast enough on my bike to get past them on my way to school.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye and continued to weave her tale. “Help, Daddy! I need a faster bike so the dragons don’t catch me.”
“Well, maybe we can see about getting you a new bike for your birthday. I wouldn’t want any dragons grabbing my Panda.”
She rolled towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He tickled her and she laughed.
“You have a great imagination and a very logical mind,” he told her. “Don’t ever change.”
“I won’t.”
Carl couldn't believe how fast his little girl was growing. It seemed like only yesterday she was six-years old and in the first grade. Now she was ten and growing like a weed. She had a wonderful personality and a cheery outlook on life. ‘So much like her mother, yet she looks like me.’ He shook his head incredulity. “Amanda?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She looked up at him with her big, trusting brown eyes.
“How are things at school?”
“Fine,” Amanda answered and then pressed her lips together. “I met this new girl this week at school. Her name is Debbie Ann. She’s kind of shy though.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. Then he lifted her off the ground and wrapped her in a big bear hug. “You’re so friendly; you could make friends with a scarecrow.”
“Daddy, you’re silly,” she giggled, rubbing her soft cheek against his rough whiskers.
And she thinks we’re just fishin’ on the riverside
Throwin’ back what we could fry
Drownin’ worms and killin’ time
Nothin’ too ambitious
She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’
*****
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and the sun was shining brightly on the warm spring day. The weather was warmer than normal for late April and Carl dipped his toes in the cool water, while loosely holding onto his fishing rod. It had been a few years since he had brought Amanda up here with him to fish. He could not believe how much time had flown by, now his sweet little girl was a teenager. He turned to observe her. She was wearing bright yellow pedal pushers, a white cotton t-shirt, and was barefoot. Her long brown hair she had worn down. He watched her perform cartwheels in the crabgrass near the riverbank.
Carl couldn’t help but marvel how blessed he was to have such a wonderful daughter, yet he also felt a pang of regret. She was as gorgeous as her mother and was turning into a very beautiful young lady, yet still very much a “Tomboy.” Part of him looked forward to seeing the woman his daughter would become, but part of him wanted her to stay just as she was today. Nevertheless, soon her interests would change and boys would be catching her eye and she would want to spend time with them, instead of her old man. However, he also looked forward to the day he would be walking her down the aisle and watching her raise children of her own. He had no doubt she would be a great mother. Suddenly, her voice broke him from his reverie.
“So, what do you think?”
“Huh? What was that, Panda?”
Her eyes narrowed and she wrinkled her nose. “I'm too grown-up for childish names.”
“Sorry, you’re right.” He took the fishing rod out of the water and rested it against the dock. “What do I think about what?”
“About me trying out for the cheer squad?”
“I think it is a great idea. You would be the most beautiful cheerleader on the team.”
Her cheeks blushed a slight shade of pink. “You think so?” She then gave him a radiant smile.
He grinned back at her. “How are things at school?”
“Good. I got an ‘A’ on my history quiz.” She sat down beside him and dipped her bare toes into the water.
He placed his hand on her knee. “Way to go. You studied hard for that test. I am proud of you.”
She then bit her lip and swung her long legs back and forth. Water sloshed against the pilings. “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“What do you think of Jeff Hawkins?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins son?” he asked.
She nodded her head, but averted her eyes.
“He seems like a very nice young man. Why?”
She placed her hands in her lap. “Well, he invited me to the Spring Fling dance.”
Understanding dawned on his features. “And you want to go with him?”
She slowly nodded her head again, and then brushed her hair back behind her ears.
“Will your sentence be over?”
Amanda turned to face him. “Yes.”
“And you asked your mother?”
“She told me to ask you.”
“I see.” He took in the deep breath and slowly blew it out. “As long as you are no longer grounded, I guess I am okay with you going to the Spring Fling with Jeff Hawkins, but next time, no hiding friends in the attic.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, baby girl.”
She then grabbed her fishing pole and after baiting the hook, she cast a line, just as he had taught her so many years ago. ‘Time may be ticking,’ he thought. ‘But this is living and she just thinks we’re fishing.’
She’s already pretty, like her mama is
Gonna drive the boys all crazy
Give her daddy fits
And I better do this every chance I get
‘Cause time is tickin’
Yeah, it is
And she thinks we’re just fishin’ on the riverside
Throwin’ back what we could fry
Drownin’ worms and killin’ time
Nothin’ too ambitious
She ain’t even thinkin’ ‘bout
What’s really goin’ on right now
But I guarantee this memory’s a big’in
And she thinks we’re just fishin’