Slippery Memories

by Liz deBeer

When an Adirondacks Park Campsite sign flashes past our station wagon, Daddy says, “Used to hike there with my pals.” Pauses. “Some never returned home from the war.” I inch closer, wondering but quiet. Later, we park and paddle to Lake George’s center, imagining catching bass, perch, trout. Daddy’s line jerks. He yanks, hoping-hoping-hoping. Too small. Then my line trembles, tugs. Daddy’s hands steady mine; we reel in together. Another loop of maybes, but—not a keeper either. Paddling back, me in the bow, him in the stern, we glide together, holding something that won’t fit into our empty cooler.

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LIZ DEBEER is a teacher and writer with Project Write Now, a writing cooperative. Her flash has appeared in BULL, Fictive Dream, Switch and others. She is a volunteer reader at Flash Fiction Magazine. You can also follow Liz on Substack.

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