Then when you come with me, we get half the stuff. The other half go to mama for her stay at the nut house for the first couple'o'years. Dad looks me straight on. You right, son, but a man gets tired of being pushed around. That reason 'nuf for us to come out here today and reason 'nuf for it to be over.
Clouds begin to cover the autumn sky and a light rain falls.
I pack the tackle box and hook the lures to the eyes of them old rods. Dad reaches for them plastic oars to go to the shore near the house. Dad looks confused at me reachin' for the oars, seein' hows I never row the boat.