Diary of a Witness (11 page)

But now I have to go back and try to remember everything that happened and write it all down. Before I forget it forever.

I’ll start with the day we celebrated Christmas. It wasn’t really Christmas, it was really Saturday the twentieth. The plan was that my mom would drive Will and me up to Uncle Max’s house in Lemoore, and we’d all celebrate Christmas early, and then she’d go home and we’d drive up to the cabin the next day.

But there was a flaw in the plan. Will showed up empty-handed.

I don’t mean he didn’t have clothes and gear. He did. Two suitcases and plenty of outdoor wear and warm stuff. He even brought two of his dad’s hunting rifles. And Sampson. Well, he had to bring Sampson. There’d be nobody home to take care of him. So he brought tons of stuff, but no presents. His mom hadn’t even bothered to send him with any presents. Here we were driving up there to have an early Christmas dinner and open presents. And everybody would have presents to open but Will.

I pulled my mom aside and asked her about it. Before we left our house. She said she felt bad for him, but she couldn’t really do anything about it, because she’d gotten me one big present instead of a few little ones. She asked if I had something I could give him, but I said Will and I had already agreed not to get presents for each other, because we really don’t have much money, and the vacation together is kind of a giant present anyway.

So we just drove up there, still not knowing what we’d do.

When we got to Uncle Max’s house, he was making
Christmas dinner. Roast turkey with cranberry sauce and green beans and salad. And fresh fruit salad with chopped pecans sprinkled on top for dessert.

My mom walked around the kitchen and looked at everything. Like if she just looked hard enough, she would find where all the rest of the dinner was hiding.

“Well,” she said. “That looks very … healthy.”

You could tell she didn’t get it, and Uncle Max shot me a bad look. He gave me this look that said, Oh, Ernie. You still haven’t told her.

He was right. I still hadn’t told her.

Right before dinner he pulled me aside into his den. I thought he was going to ream me out for not telling my mom I was trying to lose weight. Or wanting to lose weight, anyway. Not really doing so hot, but wanting to. But it was nothing about that.

He took two wrapped presents out of the big oak chest in the corner of his den. Set them down on his writing desk. We both stared at them like we expected them to do something.

“Lila tells me Will’s mother didn’t get him anything. And that’s a problem, right? So let’s just say for the sake of conversation that one of these presents is for Will.” I picked one up and looked at the gift tag. It said, “To Ernie, from Uncle Max.” I picked up the other one. It said, “To Ernie, from Uncle Max.”

“Now, I hate to spoil Christmas surprises,” Uncle Max
said, “but one of them is a collapsible ultralight rod and reel. The kind that telescopes down to almost nothing and you can put it right in your backpack. But it’s not stiff, like most collapsibles. It’s a real trout rod. Nice and sensitive. The other is a book on fly tying, with a kit to get someone started. Now, I hate to even ask this of you, but you’re a young man now, and you can make tough decisions. Is one of these a present to Will from our family?”

“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely. He should have the rod.”

“You’re sure.”

The rod was the bigger, better present, and we both knew it.

“Yes. Positive. Will doesn’t have an ultralight. I
have
one, at least. It doesn’t break down, but at least I have one. And besides, I’ll get something from Mom, too. I’m the one who wants to learn to fly-fish anyway. What good would that do Will? He hasn’t even learned to trout-fish with bait yet. Will should get the rod.” I felt like I was talking too much. Like I was trying to talk myself into it.

Uncle Max looked right into my face, and I had to look away, because I knew that look was a compliment, and compliments make me nervous. In my head I was begging him not to say anything nice out loud.

He must’ve heard me.

“So be it,” he said. “Ernie has spoken.”

“Thanks, though. For the collapsible rod. That was a really nice present.”

I don’t think Uncle Max likes compliments, either. All he said was, “Yeah, well. You know you’re my favorite nephew.”

My mom had about four helpings of turkey. She’s not a big fan of anything green. She had two helpings of fruit salad, too. That was the only time she said anything about the dinner. She said, “You know, I always forget how good fresh fruit can be.”

I wondered what she was going to eat when she got home.

After dinner we opened our presents.

Will looked really surprised when Uncle Max handed him a package to open. He ripped the paper off all at once. Didn’t split the tape and keep it all nice like me and my mom. Well, like my mom. I just do it because she does it.

“Wow,” he said. “That is so cool.” He extended it to its full length. Only about four and a half feet. Whipped it back and forth and watched it whistle through the air. Sampson got scared and hid behind the couch. “It’s so light.”

“It’s an ultralight,” I said. “That’s what you use for trout.”

“That’s so nice,” he said. “That’s so nice that you guys got me something. Something really nice.” His face looked serious and deep. It worried me. It reminded me of the time he instant-messaged me and thanked me for being his
friend. And I knew right away something was wrong. Because it isn’t like Will to get mushy.

But the moment blew over because I opened my present from my mom. It was a big one, all right. It was amazing. It was this 49ers jacket with leather sleeves. This really warm, thick, padded black wool jacket with brown leather sleeves. And these SF patches and NFL patches and stuff. And on the back this special white oval patch sewn on, and on it was Terrell Owens’s autograph. It was just the coolest thing I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t even talk. All I could do was stare at it with my mouth open and touch all the different parts of it, like I couldn’t believe they were all true.

Uncle Max said, “I think he likes it, Lila.”

The first words out of my mouth were not the very brightest. I think I was still in shock. Good shock, but shock. “Oh my God, it must’ve cost a fortune.”

“You don’t worry about that,” my mother said. “You just enjoy it.”

“Oh my God, it’s amazing. It’s the most amazing thing ever.”

I got up and put it on, suddenly scared it wouldn’t fit. Even though it was really big. What if I was bigger? It fit. It even snapped up. It was kind of tight around my stomach, but it had elastic at the waist anyway, so it didn’t really matter. Much.

“This is the most amazing present I’ve ever gotten.
This is amazing.” I knew I was saying the word amazing a lot, but I couldn’t seem to stop. All of a sudden I was really glad I’d given the best Uncle Max present to Will. I would’ve felt so bad if I got that jacket and he got nothing, or even nothing very good.

“I can’t take this up to the cabin, though. It’ll get dirty.”

“Nonsense,” my mom said. “It’s to wear, not to hang on the wall.”

“But what if something happens to it? What if it gets messed up?”

“Then we get it cleaned.”

“No, we can’t get it cleaned, it might ruin the autograph.”

“The autograph is done in permanent marker. It can be dry-cleaned.”

“You’re sure?”

“I checked.”

I figured I would take it up there with me. But I wasn’t sure I would wear it. I just wasn’t sure I could bring myself to take a chance with it. What if I caught it on some barbed wire climbing over the fence? What if I hooked it with a fishhook or something?

But when I had to go back to school, then I’d wear it every day. All the time. Even in class. I felt like I’d be cool if I just wore that jacket all the time. Like I wouldn’t even be the fat boy anymore. Or, anyway, like it wouldn’t even matter that I was.

*   *   *

When Will and I were lying in the twin beds in Uncle Max’s guest room that night, trying to get to sleep, Will said, “Did your uncle really get the rod and reel for me? Or did he just give it to me at the last minute so I’d have something to open?”

I hate to lie. But I made an exception. “He really got it for you,” I said. “We talked about what to get you. He got you the rod so you’d have something to learn to trout-fish with. And so you can do it on your own if you like it.”

I could hear Sampson snoring in the corner.

“Well, that was pretty nice. I thought maybe he got it for you, because … well, the fly-tying kit is okay, I guess. If you’re into fly tying. But the rod really seems like a much better present.”

“Yeah, but he knows I want to get into fly tying. Besides, he knew my mother was getting me something really big.”

“Yeah, the jacket is cool. Even
I
think so, and I hate football. Your family is a lot better than the Manson family. Not that the Manson family sets the bar very high or anything. What if I don’t like trout fishing, though?”

“You will,” I said. “I know you will.” I had to believe it. I felt like trout fishing could really save Will. Give him back something he loved to do, like saltwater fishing used to be. Before you-know-what happened. Besides, if he really loved it as much as I did, maybe he wouldn’t want to
take time off to go hunting. Maybe we could just fish the whole time. And maybe, just maybe … we could even talk for real.

We drove up to the cabin the next morning, which is up in the mountains, at like six thousand feet. The four of us. I say four because I’m counting Sampson. Good thing Uncle Max has an extra cab. Peaches didn’t get to come. My mom would have been too lonely without Peaches for the holidays.

We had chains for the tires, just in case, but we were lucky. There was no snow.

I was wearing my new jacket, and I felt like a whole new me. But I was still worried a little about it, too, so I asked Uncle Max, “Did the jacket cost a fortune? I mean, can she afford this?”

“Let that be her worry, Ernie. Yes, she went all out, but that was her choice. She knows you’ve been having a rough time, and she wanted to do something special for you. She’ll manage.”

We stopped for gas at that little town where the gas station sells bait.

“How many cartons of worms should I get, Uncle Max?”

“Oh, if they have the twenty-five count, I’d say two. We can always get more down at the store by Marble Pools.”

Will and I went in while Uncle Max filled the tank.

“Worms?” Will asked. “You fish for trout with worms?”

“You don’t have to,” I said. “You can use artificial bait.

Power Bait. Or spinners. Or salmon eggs. But I always have the best luck with live night crawlers. Why? You have a problem with worms?”

“Well, they’re just kind of gross is all.”

“Oh, come on. This from a guy who hooks squid heads right between the eyes?”

“Yeah, but the squid is dead. It doesn’t wiggle.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fine.
I’ll
bait the hooks.”

“No, no. I’m not a total wimp. I’ll deal with it.”

While we were there, we also had to get a freshwater stamp for Will’s fishing license, because his license was for salt water only.

While the lady was ringing us up, he lifted one of the lids off a worm carton and looked in. They always lie around on the top if they’re good and fresh. I thought I saw him shudder just a little bit.

Turned out Will wasn’t big on getting up early, so in the morning Uncle Max and I drove in his truck down to Brightwater Creek. Just as the sky was beginning to get light. So we could cast our lines into the water just when it was light enough for the trout to see our worms. That’s the best time to fish. And it was nice, in a way, just me and Uncle Max, like in the old days. Like for as long as I can remember.

I caught one in the big, flat pool by the campground, and he caught two, all about twelve inches or so. Uncle Max has an old-fashioned creel, kind of a little wicker basket for fish, with a carrying strap. We put them in that and let it sit in the water.

It was cold at that hour. Man. Probably high twenties. I was wearing gloves with the fingers cut away, but when I had to handle a fish, it just left my fingers numb. I could hardly feel well enough to bait my hook again.

When it got light enough, Uncle Max asked if I felt like hiking up to the waterfall. That’s, like, my favorite place in the whole, entire world. There’s a trail up to it, so you don’t have to rock-hop. We hiked up there, and the hike made me feel much warmer.

The waterfall is about fifty feet high, and it’s really hard to get up above it. It can be done, if you don’t mind sweating. Or getting scratched, or getting poison oak. But the best fishing pool I know is right at the base of it. Right at the back of the basin, where the waterfall carves out an extra-deep pool. I have no idea how deep it is, but it’s just about deeper than any other part of the creek that I know of. Plus it’s really bouldery up there, so I know there are lots of spaces for the fish to hide.

We baited our hooks again at the base of the falls. I looked up, and it was just as beautiful as I remembered. Green moss hanging down on the rocks, with three thin strands of water pouring down. I think I love the sound
more than anything else. At the end of a good fishing day I like to lie in bed and remember the sound of the falling water.

I picked out a big, fat crawler so I could cast over to the deep part of the pool without having to artificially weight my line. I cast, and watched the worm land right where I wanted him to, right on that big dark patch that spells deep water. At first he just hung there under the surface, wiggling around. Then he sank, slowly, swishing his long body back and forth. I love to watch that. And so do the trout. I let out a little more line so he could go all the way to the bottom. Left my bail open the way I like to do. Next thing I know, more line was pulling off the reel. Three or four more wraps, like the line was swimming away. I love that moment. I snapped the bail shut, set the hook, and reeled in, waiting to see what I’d hooked. Hoping to see a great, giant natural brown. But what I saw was a rainbow. You can tell right away. There’s a special flash to a rainbow. I pulled him all the way in and up out of the water, and he thrashed at the end of the hook, throwing droplets of freezing water into my face. I looked up and saw a little rainbow of colors in the mist thrown up by the waterfall. The other kind of rainbow.