Fishing with Mark

I went to the ‘big city’ on business where I bumped into an old high school friend and college roommate, Mark Klawitter. He suggested we go fishing and catch up on each other’s lives. “Sure, that would be nice,” I said.

The pond was in a big city park, shady with cottonwood trees and lawn grass up to the edge of the brownish-green water. It was the kind of park where tame ducks and geese eat day-old bread from strolling pedestrians.

Mark geared up immediately, casting a dry fly at the mirror smooth water. I took my time enjoying the peacefulness of the gnarly old trees and lush grass. A few young mothers gossiped while they watched their children playing. An occasional jogger ambled past. It was very peaceful.

Finally, I walked down to the shore to collect my tackle box and spinning rod where I’d left them. On a whim, I decided to first ask Mark if it was artificial lures only, or if you could use bait. I turned and sauntered over to him. Just as I began to pose the question, the local wildlife biologist came up to us, greeted us cordially and asked to see our fishing licenses. We complied and then chatted with him for a few minutes before he wandered off. Meanwhile, I stared out across the pond and noted trout rising near the center.

After the biologist had left, I called out to Mark, “Hey, will you look at that? There really are fish in this pond. Look over there. WOW! There are three real lunkers!” Mark followed my gaze and saw the three big fish. They were maybe five plus pounds apiece. “Let’s go around to the other side. They’re heading that way, and the sun would be in our favor,” he said.

I crunched through the gravel back to the car to get my fishing pole, where I rigged up a dry fly and bobber. Mark and the Biologist said it was bait fishing for kids only. A few minutes and several casts later, Mark came down to see if I was ready yet. I was, so we wandered around to the far side of the pond. A narrow, soggy fisherman’s trail next to the pond led the way. It paralleled a graveled jogging path up the bank on a little higher ground. Several people were walking by out enjoying the day. Two very attractive young women wore only their bathing suits.

“Where do you suppose they’re going?” I asked Mark motioning with my chin.

“There’s a swimming pool over there,” Mark replied. “Wanna go check it out?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Let’s go see what’s goin’ on.”

We climbed up onto the gravel path, following the girls in their skimpy bikinis from a distance. We joined a scattered group of swimmers at the pool’s edge. Mark sat down on some steps leading up to bleachers. I leaned against the handrail. We were silent for a few minutes just watching the beautiful young women in their swimsuits.

“Does it bring back old memories?” I asked.

“Yeah, kinda,” Mark replied.

“Do you ever miss Holly?”

“Not really. I don’t ever really think about her anymore.”

“Huh,” I grunted thoughtfully.

We continued to admire the women, lost in our own thoughts. It felt good, being there, just relaxing with nothing pressing going on, enjoying the time with an old friend.