High Country Confessions

Back and forwards, the fly skimmed across the top of the water, before drifting freely. “It is a common belief that everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. Even the simple things in life bring pleasure to people like ourselves.” William was dumbfounded, as Sid ambled a little closer to the bank, before continuing. “Let me finish, while you’re listening. These attributes are attributes that lay the foundations to many life experiences.” William did not speak as he watched, back and forward went the fly, as it had done when they had practised at the funeral home all those weeks ago. Whack, suddenly Sid jerked the line. A fish had taken the fly, not a large fish, but a decent-sized one. William stared as he reeled it in. “Our first fish,” he shrieked, wriggling closer to the riverbank. “It is mate. It is,” he smiled, picking the brown trout up in his hand, in full view of William, who was now only a foot from the edge. “Can we keep it?” he cried excitedly, staring at the fish. “Can we?” he repeated. “Wait on a minute mate. Let’s just see if I can get the fly out first.” “Can we keep it?” he nagged in an all too familiar whinging tone. “Please, please.” “Hang on. As I told you, sometimes it is important to catch and release. There will be plenty more in the next couple of day’s I’m sure,” he explained, untwisting the line. “I know,” he continued without listening. “But it’s my first fish.” Sid turned away from the task at hand to glance at him. “I appreciate that mate, but just wait for a second. If we took all the fish, we caught there would be none left to breed.” “I know,” he repeated with little conviction. “But it’s my first fish.” “Let me see,” he growled, fast running out of patience as he wrestled with the fish, a lively one. Grasping the fish in one hand and a small pair of pliers in the other, he gently removed the fly. With a final kick, the fish slipped from his hands and fell into the water. “How dare you.” William thumped the ground with clenched fists. “You let it go on purpose.” “No, I did not mate,” Sid retorted, still standing in the rapids of the river. “No, I didn’t” “Yes, you did,” he winced, tears welling in an already reddened face. “I hate you.” “No, I didn’t. Things happen for a reason.” He clenched his fists. “I want to go home, now,” he screamed throwing his arms around and kicking his legs in the grass. “I hate you.” “Don’t be like that.” “Take me home,” insisted a red-faced William. “Now.” “Come on mate,” Sid pleaded, staring at him. He had never seen him like this before, tears in his eyes, red-faced and throwing his arms into the grass. “No, no we can’t do that,” Sid yelled, stepping up out of the water and onto the riverbank beside him. “It’s getting late.” “No,” William shrieked at the top of his voice. “We didn’t really have time to stop this long.” “Well we’re keeping the next fish,” he emphasised, wiping the tears away from his face as he turned away. Sid sighed, there was no use buying into another argument. He had neither the time nor the patience for that. They had to get moving. “Especially if I catch it,” he continued climbing to his feet. “Alright.” “Good.” “Okay, enough now we need to move on,” Sid continued, re-strapping his fly rod onto Saffron’s back, and checking the bedrolls and the rest of the gear. He scooped William onto his back. “Ouch,” he grizzled, wriggling to get more comfortable. “Watch my leg.” “Sorry mate,” half-sighing and leading Saffron away from the water’s edge. “Shouldn’t be far now to that hut, a couple of hours,” he continued, picking up the pace to a steady walk. The land was no longer as flat. The gradual climb from the river was becoming steeper with every step. With William on his back and leading Saffron, the trip was difficult. He had even contemplated turning his horse loose, once they reached the heavy timberline, but this was not ideal. For now, he would press on, as is. “A couple of hours.” “That’s not long mate,” he countered quickly. “Come on, I thought you had more patience than that,” he was surprised by William’s reaction.