Uncle Jimbo

When I was a kid we used to go to Arkansas every summer to visit Daddy and Me-Maw and Pa-Paw and Uncle Jimbo. Uncle Jimbo was a fisherman. He went fishin every mornin of his life. Said he'd been doing it since he was ten years old. He knew every fish that lived anywhere near his house. Every frog toad snake turtle bird or fish that lived. When he went fishin, he knew exactly what he was going to catch.

We loved to ask him “Whatchu gonna catch Uncle Jimbo?”

“Crappie and blue gills” He'd say. Or Bass, or Catfish, or a Snappin Turtle for miss Lossie. Or nothing. Or whatever. That or he'd say “we'll see”.

And he was always right. I know this because I went fishin with him lots of times. He'd drive past our house every morning around 4:30, and if I wanted to go fishin with him all I had to do was be sittin there on th' porch waitin for him. If I was there he'd pull in th' driveway and i'd jump in th' truck and off we'd go. And if I wasn't he'd drive on by, no hard feelings.

It's not easy to up and be ready to go somewhere at four thirty. But every now and then i'd meet him out there and he'd take me to these little ponds, and we'd float around and catch fish and watch th' sun rise. It was a magical time, watching th' world wake up. Watching th' sun move slowly across the sky and earth, chasing shadows. I'd see these same ponds later on in th' day and they never looked liked they did early in th' morning.

So one day he picked me up and said we were going somewhere new today. The dashboard lights were shining on his face. He had a look about him that told me this was a special day. I asked him where we were going. And he said somewhere we've never been before.

As we drove off he said he doesn't usually take people to places he's never been before. Said he likes to go and check 'em out by himself first, but since I was out there and waitin for him, well he couldn't just leave me hangin. I was getting excited. He smiled and handed me a thermos of coffee. Said there was a cup on th' floorboard over there somewhere. I picked up an old cup that used to be white and filled it with th' steaming brew. I loved coffee. Drinkin it made me feel grown up, even though I couldn't stand th' taste of it.

We pulled up near th' pond and Uncle Jimbo cut the engine and we just sat in th' truck for a long time. I managed a few sips of coffee, and after what seemed like forever asked if we were gonna go fishin. Yep he said, and got out of th' truck and put th' boat in th' water and we both climbed in. He pushed off from th' shore and then laid the oar down as we drifted out into th' pond.

“Hey Uncle Jimbo” I said after a while, “we forgot our poles”.

“Nope. You forgot your pole. I left mine on purpose. ”

I gave him a confused look but he just sat there, lookin out over th' water, moving his head real slow. I wanted to look like I knew what he was talking about, so I shut up. And for th' next two hours neither of us said a word. Barely moved a muscle. We let th' boat drift where it wanted. The sunlight slanted into th' water so you could see a good five or six feet down. We were so still th' fish weren't even scared of us. They just swam right on by, like we weren't there. I remember thinkin “wow, this pond's only twenty feet deep- and most of th' fish in here are eating right now. And they're right here where I can see them. It was at that moment that I realized Uncle Jimbo was th' best fisherman that I knew. Everyone else was just guessin. But Jimbo knew what he was doin. He could catch anything he wanted.

We stayed that way for what seemed like two hours. I saw more animals in that time than i've seen in half my lifetime.

Finally he picked up the oar and shoved us back towards th' dock. I felt a sense of accomplishment that I couldn't quite relate to. I mean, we hadn't done anything. Didn't catch any fish. Didn't even try to catch a fish.

“This is my favorite kind of fishin” he said. “You never know what you're gonna find. You saw that snapping turtle didn't you- th' big one?”

“Yes” I said.

“That was an old turtle. She's been here for twenty five years or more. This is her home. She came right up to our boat. Checkin us out just like we were checkin her out. She looked me right in the eyes. And I looked her right back. Hell TJ, I know it sounds crazy but we made friends, me and that turtle. She looked at me, she was telling me something... ”

We got to th' shore and he tied th' boat back onto th' truck and we went home.

“But Jimbo,” I said on th' way home, “we didn't even go fishin”

“Yes we did.” He told me, and that's all he said.

It took me years to realize what he meant. To realize that much more than just catching fish was going on those mornings when Jimbo was out there. He was watching the world wake up, every day. He was part of it all. He had found his place, no matter what happened throughout th' day.

Some days he'd come home with fish. Some days not. But he never came home th' same as when he'd left. He saw new things everyday. A new beginning. He was born anew every morning. Th' changes were subtle, I'm not sure if anyone ever really noticed them. But after that day I noticed. I noticed them in him, and I noticed them in myself. And while i've never been good at getting up early, those pre-dawn hours have always been my favorite time of day. Th' time when anything is possible. When there is no difference between waking and dreaming. When you get another chance. When there's nothing unusual about a turtle talking to you. Or loving a cup of coffee that you can't stand th' taste of. Of being who you are, and not who you try to be.