Banana Man (a Novella) (4 page)

He loved making a fire on a cold day. The warmth and the smell of burning wood made the house cozy.

The kindling crackled and popped, and soon the pine logs burned at a steady pace.

CHAPTER FOUR

The photographs

The firelight cast shadows about the darkened living room
while the afternoon rain tapped at the windows. Danny dragged a heavy blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around himself, and then sat in front of the fire, trying to get warm.

On the brick mantel stood three photo frames. One was empty. Danny didn’t think much of it and turned his attention to the other two.

The first was a snapshot of Danny and his father after a morning of fishing. His dad knelt on one knee beside a creek, triumphantly holding up a bunch of trout on a string line. The fish were big, at least eighteen inches each. Danny stood next to his dad and struggled to help lift them.

They had gone fishing to a local stream outside of town a few weeks after his last birthday to test the fishing pole his dad gave him as a present. Danny remembered that morning pretty well. In fact, he would never forget it.

They got up before sunrise one Saturday and loaded his dad’s truck with fishing gear. Not his work truck, but his personal truck: an old four-wheel drive pick-up truck. It had plenty of dents, and one fender was painted in grey primer. His mom called it a gas guzzler. His dad called it reliable. Danny liked the big truck with its big tires. He thought climbing into the cab was fun. He loved the hum of the tires on the highway, and he liked being higher than all the other cars.

While they loaded the truck in the early morning darkness, his dad whispered to him several times to keep quiet and not wake his mom. Danny and his dad asked her to go with them the night before – she had a pink fishing pole and a bright pink tackle box of her own – but she didn’t want to go because of the storm coming into town. Fishing in the rain and getting wet didn’t sound like fun to her. Besides, she usually slept in on Saturdays, always waking up later than she planned, and his dad wanted to leave early.

The storm that was coming in that morning wasn’t just any storm; it was a newsworthy one. Forecasters predicted it might flood one end of town, and the police closed a stretch of highway as a precaution. His mom became worried when she saw the news on television. She got worked up pretty good. She didn’t want her little boy and her husband going near a stream during a rainstorm. She asked them to stay home instead, but Danny’s dad insisted they would be all right in the truck. They would be safe even if it started pouring. She wasn’t happy about his answer. She thought it was dangerous. But she still promised to buy eggs and cheese and have breakfast ready when they got home. She always made scrambled eggs with melted cheese on top for Danny. He called them cheese eggs.

On the way out of town, they stopped at Buttery Donuts. Danny picked out a glazed Old Fashioned from the display case, and the donut man plucked it with a pair of tongs and slipped it into a white bag. His dad bought a large coffee with cream and sugar. Danny got chocolate milk. Once they were back on the highway, his dad slid out the twin cup holders in the center console. He slipped his coffee into one and Danny set his milk in the other.

Danny remembered the drive out of town and how the morning sun peeked over one side of the mountain range. His dad called it a fire in the sky. That sunrise glowed hot behind the mountains for several minutes. Then it crept over the hills. Crimson light streaked across the sky, igniting several trapped clouds that floated high above the valley floor.

Not far outside the city, his dad spun the wheel and that big truck took a hard left off the highway and onto a bumpy dirt road with big rocks and boulders. The truck jostled and shook its way down a narrow dirt path. Danny could still remember the dust and the occasional sound of tires spinning freely beneath the truck. His dad slowed the truck down to a crawl, pressed a button on the dash, and the truck lurched to a stop. Then he pulled down hard on a big lever on the floor of the cab. That kicked in the four-wheel drive, and the engine growled low. The truck pushed forward once again, steady and strong, but at a much slower pace.

The slow, bumpy drive continued for another twenty minutes. All the while, Danny watched the sun inch higher into the sky, and took his time munching on his donut and drinking his milk.

It wasn’t long before the big truck stopped beside a shallow creek. They got their poles ready under the rising sunlight. He remembered his dad’s words of wisdom:
The best time to fish a river is sunrise, sunset, and especially after a hard rain. That’s when the fish come up to eat because rain knocks debris into the rising water, and goodies float downstream.

He could see clusters of fish just off shore, wading casually beneath the clear water’s surface, their little mouths gaping open and shut.

While his dad tried to educate him on the fineries of casting and reeling, Danny simply plunked the bait into the water, let it float a bit, and then repeated the process. He didn’t bother casting. He could see the bait floating directly in front of the fish’s mouth; there was no reason to cast. Just keep teasing the fish and they would eventually bite. And they did: the third time he dropped the bait into the water, Danny snagged a fat trout that caught him by surprise and almost yanked him into the creek. The fishing pole bowed and the reel screamed as the fish fled downstream. His dad grabbed hold of the pole and took over for the most part, but Danny kept his hands on the reel and helped land that first one.

For the next hour, they both hauled in good sized trout. His dad strung them up through the gills on a yellow string line. Right before they left for home, another fisherman happened to show up. His dad asked the man to take a picture of the two of them using his Vivitar camera, which he always kept in the glove box.

They were done fishing within a few hours after they left the house. Then the rain came, and the stream swelled. Black clouds poured over the mountains and down into the valley. Thunder and lightning followed thereafter, and a heavy downpour seemingly came out of nowhere. During the ride home, Danny remembered hearing a weather warning on the radio about flash floods hitting certain parts of the county. But like his dad promised his mom, they were safely in the big truck and on their way back home before the storm worsened.

The next photo frame on the mantel contained a strip of black and white snapshots of Danny and his mom. They took a family trip to a beach town and spent a sunny afternoon and a cool evening at an amusement park built right on the sand. It was the first time he had ever been to the beach. The strip of photos was from a photo booth. Danny and his mom climbed into one, stuck a bunch of quarters into the slot, and then smiled and laughed and ate pink cotton candy for the camera.

He remembered the throng of people on that summer night, and the giant Ferris wheel spinning on the edge of the wooden pier. He also remembered being so afraid and nervous that he almost puked up the cotton candy and the plain hot dog he ate for dinner.

All those spinning lights in the night sky made the steel structure look too big and too heavy, like its weight would crush the pier at any moment. And all those people, hundreds of them, milling around on the old pier, eating buttered popcorn, drinking sodas, and walking around under the stars without a worry on their mind. Danny kept thinking the pier’s wooden planks would snap and dump everyone into the sea.

His mom convinced him to go on the Ferris wheel. At first he was apprehensive, but when they climbed into one of the cages, and the attendant pulled down the safety bar, Danny got excited – he suddenly couldn’t wait to get up in the air.

He bounced in his seat, and dangled his feet out of the cage. He waved excitedly at the other little kids on the pier. He kept looking up at the top of the Ferris wheel, eager to get higher so he could see what the city lights looked like from high above.

His excitement didn’t last long.

When that Ferris wheel rolled their cage close to the top, an ocean wind kicked up, and the cage started swaying and squeaking. Danny got scared. It was just too high in the air. He almost got sick right then and there. His little hands squeezed the safety bar real tight. He crammed himself into the corner of the cage as far as he could, and braced himself with his legs, pushing his feet against the floor, as if he might somehow slide out and fall.

His eyes widened and he looked down at the pier, realizing they were high in the sky. If he fell out, it would be a death fall. He’d go splat on the pier in front of everybody. He didn’t want to die.

He glanced over at his mom and saw that she wasn’t scared one bit. Her eyes were closed. She had a pleasant smile on her face and her hair was flying around in the wind. She took deep breaths, enjoying the ocean air. She looked happy. She looked free.

And when they started to roll back down to the bottom, it felt like the entire Ferris wheel was going to tumble off the pier and sink into the ocean. The sensation of rolling into the water frightened him.

When Danny started trembling, she felt it, and she snapped out of her enjoyment and saw her terror stricken child backed into the corner of the cage and holding onto the safety bar for dear life. She scooted real close and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and held his hand. The moment she held him, a warm, safe feeling swept through his body, and his fear vanished. His tension eased. His muscles relaxed, and he took a deep, calm breath. She held him close until the Ferris wheel returned them to the ground. Then she promised he didn’t have to go on that ride again.

Danny never forgot that ride on the Ferris wheel, and he never forgot how his mom could make him feel safe whenever he got scared.

While Danny and his mom ate cotton candy and threw darts at balloons and rode the rides, his dad sat on an old wooden bench at the end of the pier facing the water. He sat silently and enjoyed the night, taking tiny sips from his coffee and listening to the sound of crashing waves.

Between the two of them, his mom was the fun one, and his dad the practical one. When his dad taught him how to build a fire, his mom taught him how to play hop scotch. That was the way it worked when it came to gifts as well. His dad bought useful stuff while his mom gave him what he wanted. For his last birthday his dad bought him a fishing pole and a tackle box full of gear, and his mom bought him a new bike and a comic book. His mom wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to have fun and she did everything she could to keep him smiling.

While Danny daydreamed about the photographs, the rain slowed to a drizzle. The crackling fire was the only sound in the shadowy living room. With the slowing of the rain, the clouds dispersed and let some of the afternoon sun escape. The living room filled with a warm glow.

C
HAPTER FIVE

Earning A Dollar

His dad’s work truck rumbled outside the kitchen window, its steel service bed squeaking and groaning as metal rubbed against metal, the truck easing its way onto the slab of concrete on the side of the house. A moment later the engine went dead, and his dad slammed shut the truck door. He entered the house through the kitchen, and then entered the living room. The big man wore layers of thick, dirty clothing and weathered construction boots.

“Hey Danny.”