Free Tides of Truth [02] Higher Hope by Robert Whitlow

That means it wasn’t a wreck.”
    The pond was surrounded by trees, but it was possible to see a glint of dark water from the highway. The gravel access road ended about twenty feet from the pond. Zach parked beneath a large oak tree. There wasn’t a breeze blowing, and the water glistened like an opaque mirror. The twins hopped out and took off running.
    “Stay away from the poison ivy patch,” I called after them.
    “We know,” Emma answered over her shoulder. “Three shiny leaves grouped together most commonly found growing on the side of trees.”
    There was a narrow path through the grass along the southern side of the pond.
    “Are there any snakes around here?” Zach asked as we unloaded the car.
    “Plenty, but this time of year they’re more interested in getting a suntan than bothering us. Emma and Ellie will scare them away. They come to the water to drink early in the morning and during the evening after they’ve eaten.”
    “Eaten what?”
    “Motorcycle riders.”
    Zach laughed. I led him to a flat patch of ground between the water and a grove of pine trees.
    “It will be shady here for a while,” I said, shielding my eyes and looking up at the sun.
    We spread out the quilt and arranged everything neatly. The girls were halfway around the pond. They’d found a flock of butterflies and were trying to lure them to land on their open palms.
    “I have some swim trunks in the car,” Zach said. “Would it be okay if I changed? These jeans are hot.”
    I looked at him in surprise. “No, we don’t swim in mixed company. If a church group goes to the lake, the boys are always separated from the girls.”
    “Nobody sneaks through the woods to take a peek?”
    “I never did,” I replied, then pointed at the pond. “Anyway, this isn’t a good place to swim. You’d sink down a foot in the mud.”
    Zach went to the car for a final load. When he returned, he pointed at my legs. “Should we move the quilt into the sun? It would help you work on your tan.”
    My legs were stark white, but my face flushed red.
    “That isn’t funny.”
    “I just thought you’d want to sit with part of your body in the sun.”
    “My biggest goal each summer isn’t baking my skin to a precancerous crisp,” I snapped.
    “I didn’t—”
    The twins came running over.
    “We’re ready to fish,” Emma interrupted. “I’ve never seen so many yellow swallowtails in one place. It tickled when they landed on our hands.”
    “Zach, will you bait my hook?” Ellie asked.
    I grabbed my fishing pole, scooped up a chicken liver, and took the path to the south end of the pond. I walked until I couldn’t hear Zach’s voice. I baited the hook and cast into the pond. There was a lead shot on the line to make sure the bait sank to the bottom where the catfish scavenged. The twins and Zach were together at the edge of the water, not far from the quilt. I heard Emma laugh. I fumed. My fishing line lay still in the water. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as the girls cast their lines into the pond. Ellie had a much better motion, and hers sailed far out over the water. Zach returned to the quilt, looked in my direction, and waved. I quickly glanced away, then felt like an immature schoolgirl. Morning silence descended on the pond. Except for my mental funk, I had to admit it was a gorgeous day.
    “I have one!” Emma cried out.
    She moved away from the water as she reeled in the fish. Ellie dropped her pole and came alongside her. Zach looked at me. I saw a flash of gray as the fish flopped around at the pond’s edge.
    “It’s a keeper!” Emma screamed.
    “Take the fish off the hook and put it on the stringer,” I said.
    Emma’s rod was sharply bent, and from the angle of the pole, I could tell she’d brought the fish onto the grass. Zach reached down with his hand. A second later he jerked it back and shook it. I quickly reeled in my line and walked toward them.
    “He doesn’t know how to pick up a catfish,”