Spanish Fly Juice

Lake Meredith in the panhandle of Texas was a dammed lake in more ways than knew. My dad, Uncle Jack, and first cousin, Ronnie invited me fishing. I hadn’t seen Uncle Jack or Ronnie since I’d mustered out of the army. Ronnie was a tough as nails cowboy a year older than I. He could rope, bust broncs, ride bulls, do any cowboying you needed done. We all went down to a wharf, the three of them had fancy ass fishing gear. Daiwa and Shimano reels, they looked at my Zebco 33 set up and shook their heads. They smiled as they set out two poles each, I only used one. I had some small nightcrawlers, I dug up. I also had a jar of salmon eggs, I rubbed each worm and added a small weight. I cast in and had a small mouthed bass about three pounds. This was while the three of were still fiddling with their gear. I put the bass on a stringer. I cast again and caught a large mouthed bass about two pounds. The three of them were getting skunked so far. I caught seven or eight more fish, then pretended to nap. Ronnie woke me and challenged me to a swim race to an island and back. It didn’t look that far. We dove in, almost there we started getting tired and finished by back stroke. We tried to signal our father’s we needed help. They had a boat but hadn’t launched it. I told Ronnie, we can make it if we dog paddle and back stroke. I told him I’m not letting my favorite cousin die. I do need some cowboy lessons and dancing, Y’all got some pretty women, like Texas toast.

I met a blonde waitress and we fell in lust. I was working in Borger and living in the motel at Lake

Meredith. I had all my bricklaying and my mechanic tools. All my clothes and possessions and fishing rod. I came home one night, and somebody had cleaned me out, even my dirty laundry. I was mad, I showed up to work the next day and borrowed a trowel and level. Ronnie had a camper trailer behind his house, he let me move in. We finished the YMCA we were working on and drew our paychecks. We loaded Ronnie’s two horses into a trailer and drove south over the Lake Meredith bridge. I saw my blondie with some bikers, I decided they needed killing. Ronnie talked some sense into me. We drove down to Palo Duro Canyon, where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid hid out with the Hole in the Wall Gang. There were strange unearthly rock formations, called Hoodoo Mania. We drank mezcal and howled at the moon.