Author: R. J. Erbacher
I was going catching with my Grampie. He weren’t really my Grampie but that’s how I’d always referred to him. He was old, had a bushy white moustache, a scratchy beard and a big belly. And he was good to me, not like my Pa which tanned me all the time, even when I wasn’t messing up. Pa didn’t understand me like Grampie.
He never talked, my Grampie. Something happened to him in the war, not rightly sure what it was. But he could talk just fine with his eyes, and his smile. I always knew what he was thinking by reading his face. Sometimes he’d use his hands, like this morning when he made a little reeling motion with his wrist. I knew what he wanted to do. Most people called it fishing but we always called it catching.
I was carrying a small metal bucket with a bunch of crawlers mixed in with some wet dirt to use for bait. He carried a sack with some cheese sandwiches and a couple mini hydration canisters. We both had poles.
We followed the ancient tram tracks that were rusted and growed over with weeds. It would lead us right to the best catching spot where we’d always go. We walked for a ways and it was getting warm along towards full sunrise, the sky a real pleasing orangey-yellow. The tracks ended at a broke bridge halfway across the river. We went right to the edge, sat our butts down, hooked up a couple crawlers and lowered the lines into the water to wait for a nibble.
I looked over to my Grampie and he gave me a smile that said it was real nice to be here together on a beautiful day doing something that made us both happy. Like I said, he could say a lot with just his face. I nodded my agreement. There was only the call of birds and frogs and crickets.
Then a sound came from behind us. We both turned around and there were two silvery guys right there, or maybe they were wearing radiation suits, I couldn’t tell. My Grampie stood up real fast and stepped between them and me. They spoke with some weird voices and pointed a blue metal rod at him. Before I knew what was happening some beam shot out of the rod and hit my Grampie in the chest and he buckled for a second, but didn’t go down. With one hand he knocked the weapon out of the guy’s grip and with his other he shoved me back. I tried to catch my balance, but the push was hard and I went over the edge of the bridge. Just before I fell, I saw my Grampie lighting into them guys for all he was worth.
I fell for two seconds before I splashed into the water. I popped up right away and looked up to the bridge. I couldn’t see much through the slats and the snapped beams but I could hear quite a tussle going on. I swam to the shore as fast as I could but it took me a minute or two, then I scrambled up the bank to the tracks and got to the bridge. I saw my Grampie and the two silvery guys all laying down, not moving. I ran over to my Grampie.
His belly was huffing up and down and there was lots of blood leaking through his clothes. I held his hand and he managed one last smile. Then he died.
I looked at the other guys and they was dead too. Then my Grampie moved. His head tilted back and his mouth opened. A black shinning ball that glowed like a tiny sun, rose out and hovered in the air for a few seconds. It floated over in front of my face and stopped there. I opened my mouth, cause it seemed like that’s what I was suppose to do, and it went into me. I gasped as it caught in my throat, burned going down, and I got dizzy for what seemed like a half minute, then it all passed. I blinked.
I was not quite sure how I was going to explain this debacle to my father, but I had a confident suspicion that I would have to accomplish that task with only my facial expressions because I would not be speaking anytime in the future. I also doubt he will be disciplining me anymore. Events in my domain have changed dramatically.