Chapter 9: FIT TO TROT

Trot-lines do not all need to be of one uniform length. I just learned that from Dad. I suggested dividing my parachute cord into two equal pieces for a pair of twin trot-lines to compete with each other. Dad likes the idea of competing test lines, but suggest they be two short lines. When a good productive spot is identified, stretch a really long line there, about five hundred feet in length. It’s so obvious the way Dad explains it, and strange it never occurred to me before. Maybe I’m growing stupider. Dad says I’m being silly to imagine such things. Don’t take it all on my own shoulders. There’s wisdom accumulated before I existed and gained without my help. Take advantage of it. Don’t re-invent the wheel. Now, I’m really feeling dumb! Re-inventing the wheel? Is that what I’m doing?

“Let’s make a hundred footer tonight. Set it out tomorrow, and make the second hundred footer tomorrow night, the competitor.”

“Okay, Dad, anything you say.”

“Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Ricky?”

“Just tired, Dad, just tired.”

Only took two hours to make the first hundred feet long trot line.

Two of Dad’s identification crab-pot anchors are seized onto each end. Later we’ll cast heavier anchors so only one is needed at an end. We don’t want the crabs or current to carry away the trot line.

Using two fifty foot skeins joined together, we clove-hitched a bull-lip in the line roughly every eighteen inches, leaving ten feet near each anchored end clear. Coiled it down, cinched it off around the circumference at half a dozen places, and we’re done. Till tomorrow. More cultivation to look forward to tomorrow, today was a nice break.

While I was driving Mom to work this morning, I apologized for not collecting her at the crossroad when she returned from work yesterday. My excuse I pleaded, I was out on the skiff with Dad. Mom said it was fine, it’s not a long walk, the day was a fine one, and she needed the exercise. That exercise bit is pure BS. From the moment she arises until she retires at night, she’s on the run tending one child or another, fetching veggies from the garden to the kitchen, up and down stairs dozens of times, and that’s just the trips before breakfast, and on and on. The woman is not lacking for exercise in her normal daily routine. I promised her I’d be more considerate in the future. Mom says she’s no complaint about any lack of consideration towards her. Help Dad all I can. We all miss Johnny. In two years, my twelve year old sister Karen should be driving, and that will free up some of the scheduling we currently struggle with. She said she is proud of me, kissed me, got out and went in to work.

Mom doesn’t drive and refuses to learn. She does enjoy horseback riding, and has her mare she exercises several times each week.

I wonder if she would like riding a scooter?

Dad had several surprises waiting for me when I returned home. The best one, was he hired some of the other tenants to cultivate for us.

He’s using some of the storage rent money he’s getting from Mr. Moses, to pay them. Frees up him and me, so he can teach me the crabbing trade and now is our best chance for him to apprentice me. He considers that a higher priority for me than sweating in the tobacco. Summer is quickly drawing to a close. When school starts, school gets first priority. I’m grateful and pleased to be excused from the fields for awhile, that grueling work wears me down. I much prefer being on the water, even if there are occasional pirates.

Dad has two gifts for me, one he made, the other is store bought, but not new.

He also makes confession, which surprises me. He did not ask for my forgiveness and that’s no surprise. Dad tells me he’s glad the secret of Jeanette and Marshall being my sisters is known to me, but requests I assist keeping it from the younger kids awhile. Dad having two families may confuse them and damage their sense of security. Also he wants to avoid rivalry between his half relations children.