The Baffling Call

At age 15, our middle son is an accomplished fisherman. On the water and the ice, Aaron's mastered the combo of equipment, lure, bait, presentation and execution. He knows how to apply these techniques not only to fish but also to people.

This afternoon, the phone rang. No one in our household picked up. I left my work, grabbed the cordless phone, checked the caller i.d. and saw our own home phone number on the screen.

At first, I was baffled. Then it dawned on me: Someone must be fooling with our phones. I answered, "Hello?"

"Mom, can you take me fishing?" replied Aaron. "Isaac's gone. And, Dad and Noah are outside."


This was true. Isaac was shooting hoops during open gym at the school. I'd heard Aaron turn down Isaac's offer to join him at open gym; and Isaac's decline to drive out Aaron to the lake. I also knew Dan and Noah were shooting guns at a target on our hill. They were eager to try out freshly re-loaded cartridges - fruits from Saturday's newest recycling project - and one, in which, Aaron took no interest while big northerns waited under the ice to be speared from his dark house.

Where are you?" I asked Aaron. He said, "Downstairs on the couch."

"WHAT?!!" I replied. "You're IN the house. Why are you calling me on the phone?"

"I'm too lazy to come up," Aaron admitted. "Dad said to wait half an hour when he's done shooting. I don't wanna wait. This is the time of the day when I got my big one last year."

"Well, I'm too lazy to talk on the phone. Get up here if you want to talk to me," I said, promptly ending the call.

I'll admit: My first thought had been to make Aaron wait for his dad to save myself a trip and keep my work rhythm flowing. Then I realized while Aaron had failed to gain the prompt attention of other licensed drivers in the household, he'd gained mine with that crazy phone call.

As Aaron reached the top of the stairs, I asked, "How soon can you be ready?"

"Now," he said. I nodded, "Let me get my stuff on and we'll go."

Off we went. We chatted en route. Fifteen minutes later as we approached the lake, Aaron guilted me into abandoning my fear of driving an SUV on the ice and saving him a 300-yard walk with his equipment. "Other people have been driving their cars and pickups out here for weeks," he explained. As I released my seatbelt, opened the driver's window and cracked the door, I said, "I know. The thought of going through the ice still makes me feel sick though."

I stopped the vehicle 10 yards from the fish house. Aaron unloaded his equipment. I gave him my TracPhone to call us for a ride home and drove on. As I circled back, the scene in the mirrors made me stop, take out my camera and shoot.

Several frames later, Aaron emerged from the fish house to retrieve his spear and bucket. Seeing me squatting down outside of the car in the distance, he laughed and shouted, "What! You're still here?"

Some people shoot baskets. Others shoot guns. A few throw spears. I shoot images.

Sometimes being the taxi driver has its advantages.

I'm glad
I took
the fisherman's
Baffling Call.