Read Online The Kingdom Land by Bart Tuma - Free Book Online

away from the dirt, dad and I could even talk next to the
bend in the stream where the biggest brook trout lay. The talk was
never about anything important, but it was great.”
    â€œâ€˜ Hey, first fish of the day doesn’t
have to clean the rest,’ dad would cry out to me. We wouldn’t fish
next to each other, but close enough to still
communicate.
    â€œâ€˜ Fine, the most fish doesn’t have
to clean the stove when we’re done.’ I’d yell back.
    â€œ The rules were always the same, but
we always said them. It was kinda like a secret club’s password.
Dad would even take the time to teach me the finer points of bait
fishing.
    â€œâ€˜ Put it right at the top of the
bend and let it float down until it stops in the still water next
to that branch. The trout will be lying right next to that log.
They use it as protection and to hide from the insects they are
going after,’ he’d tell me.
    â€œ I knew how to fish, but it was
great to have dad teach me. It seemed like he knew I was there. On
the farm I was just another hired hand, if he even knew I was
there.”
    Erik quickly added, “He wasn’t a bad man. That is
just you way men become when they live around here.”
    John’s lived here. He knows what
its like. I’m not sure why I keep making excuses for dad, Erik reasoned to himself.
    â€œ So it sounds to me like he was a
pretty good dad in a bad situation; trying to raise you by himself
and trying to make his farm work.” John said.
    â€œ No, he wasn’t bad. He wasn’t in an
easy place. We were only leasing the land so he was stuck with the
seed and equipment bills in the bad years, and in the good years a
good part of the profit went to pay the lease.
    â€œ He did have one problem. Same
problem a lot of people have around here. He was a drunk. Not a
constant drunk. It didn’t happen every day, but when it did, it was
bad. I was told he only started drinking when mom left, but that
wasn’t the only cause. Dad’s only escape was at the B&M Bar,
and the only way he would be comfortable with the other men was to
drink a beer. Actually, it was after several beers.
    â€œ His biggest problem was me. What do
you do with a kid too young to work, but old enough to get into
trouble? Sometimes he’d take me into town if he had to pick up
parts or something. It was an easy ride as I never had to worry
about talking since dad never had anything to say and it was nice
to go to town. The only bad part was when it got later in the day.
I’d watch every clock I could see since I knew after three Dad
would have to stop at the B&M bar ‘cause he’d need his
beer.
    â€œâ€™ I have to talk to George about
buying some more laying hens,’ or some other excuse he’d make up.
‘I”’ll just be a second so just hand tight.’
    â€œ I knew he didn’t need any chickens
and I’d have a long wait until he came back. In the summer it was
boring, but in the winter it was torture. Dad would take the keys
and my legs were too short to push the clutch and gas anyway. So I
sat in the cold that was so bad I couldn’t feel my feet after a
while.
    â€œ Twice I went into the bar to get
Dad, but I quickly learned it didn’t do any good. First time he was
sitting by himself on a bar stool at the big oak bar that was
taller than me. All he did was yell at me and call me names and
everyone looked at me like a stray dog. The second time the cold
got to me so bad I didn’t think I had a choice. Dad was leaning on
the bar almost falling off his stool. I tapped him on the shoulder,
but he wouldn’t even turn and look. The bartender told him I was
there but all Dad said was, ‘I don’t have any kid.’ I never went
back in after that. I’d curl up in a ball as best as I could and
wait.
    â€œ The drinking finally caught up with
him. One day when I was eleven I came home from