Brass Hook
Brass Hook
A Michael Lee short story
July 28, 18
J.P. Grant, the great great great grandson of Ulysses Grant (okay 7 generations since U.S. Grant), is 36 years old and not truly doing much with his life other than working a nine to five dead-end job, growing old, and putting the minimum into his retirement fund against his mother’s weekly encouragements. He has a five-acre homestead and a few livestock animals that cost more than they are worth. His father stops by most days to tend to the animals while J.P. is at work, has been known to name the chickens here and there, and only charges a few eggs a day for his services.
J.P. Grant woke late Saturday morning, like most other Saturdays this year; still drunk from the night before and head spinning. He rolled out of bed, tangled in worn cotton sheets onto the floor; his head hitting the nightstand on the way down before his arms could free themselves from the sleep-made straight jacket, created after a night of drunkenly tossing and turning. Pushing the nightstand over with his head, his phone and lamp crashed to the carpet with him; he groaned with regret, had no desire to untangle himself, or to get up off the cool floor. Grant lay there on the soft matted carpet saying to himself for the first time “never again.”
His phone lay on the ground, the speaker as close to his ear canal as possible without actually being in his ear, began to ring at full volume. Grant rolled over with a start; struggled to untangle his arms and lifting himself up on his elbows threw up in his mouth a little bit, swallowed then grabbed his phone and said hoarsely. “Hello, mom.”
“Where the hell are you John Paul? Have you been smoking cigarettes? You sound like you’ve been smoking! Your dad’s birthday is today and you two were supposed to go fishing! Remember?” She said as unhappily as any mom could sound when her son misses an important outing with dad.
“Mom, I don’t smoke and Dad’s birthday is tomorrow, not today.”
“No John! It’s today! You are five hours late; your dad said just come out to the lake and he will come to get you in the boat. Maybe you can salvage his day. So get your ass up and go meet your father before I come over there! Don’t forget his present either, you forgot it last year, and even though he didn’t say anything I just know it hurt him.” She exclaimed.
“Okay ma, I’ll be there in a little while. Can you call him and tell him I’ll be there?” Grant asked knowing that if he called his dad, he’d be told not to worry about coming so late in the morning.
“Yes, J. P. I’ll let him know you are on your way.”
Grant got along with his parents pretty well and didn’t actually mind going fishing with his pops a few times a year. He didn’t forget the present this year either. A brass fishing hook with “Love you Dad” engraved along the side of it. So yeah, not a real hook. It’s one of the hat clip hooks but J.P. got a quality one that his dad wouldn’t mind keeping around for a while.
Grant got up off the floor, not stepping too far from his bed, looked around his room for a clean shirt to wear. He hadn’t always been so messy, or even a drunk, seeing his room like this made him feel gross inside. His eyes still a little blurry, mouth dry and filmy he could feel the room spin just a little before falling to the bed and going back to dreamless drunken slumber.
“Hey, son. Wake up. We need to talk.” Grants father said calmly as he gently rocked his son’s shoulders as to not surprise the sleeping young man half off the bed like he had just fallen there.
Grant opened his eyes a little thinking he was dreaming, then sprang up shouting. “ah shit dad I am so frickin sorry! I didn’t mean to go back to bed for real. What time is it?”
Grant’s father looked at him brokenheartedly, chin down he said. “It’s 3pm son.”
“Hey dad, you know, let me get cleaned up, maybe we can go get an early dinner or something, please let me make it up to you.”
“That sounds good but we still need to have a little talk before we go anywhere okay.”
Grant nodded his head, grabbed the clothes he attempted to put on earlier, and rushed to the shower leaving his dad in the bedroom doorway still glum-looking.
“Hey Dad, how did you get in the house?” Grant yelled from the shower. His father didn’t yell anything back and Grant figured he was a bit too far to hear him or was watching the news by now. Grant got out of the shower just as the steam finished filling the bathroom, dried off with a towel that still smelled fresh from the laundry mat then took a blow dryer to the bathroom mirror to dry away the fog. J.P. Grant didn’t have the dad-bod of his friends and still checked himself out in the mirror after every shower, asking himself where the beach was and what the shape of the world was even on his worst days.
“Hey, dad, where you want to eat?” Grant said while trying to shave off a week’s worth of hair with a two-dollar razor. He finished getting ready skipping the hair gel and settling for the trucker hat his dad got him last Christmas, blank with just a patch sewn on the front displaying a colorful rooster, and headed to the kitchen passing his living room where his dad was patiently watching the news, turned up just loud enough to drowned out a shower, waiting for his only son to hurry along. Grant rifled through the fridge trying to find something to drink to get the strange taste out of his mouth. Two cans of cola sat in the back of the fridge. One of the cans said in cursive along its side “Share one with dad.” Grant rolled his eyes and said to himself “just rub it in why don’t you.”
“Hey dad, you never said how you got in or where you want to go eat,” Grant said curiously as he walked from the kitchen to the living room sitting on the couch across from his recliner that his dad was occupying. His dad’s head was down and his eyes were closed and a house key on his knee. Grant smiled, cracked open the can just right to make it noisy but not spray soda everywhere, took a sip of his drink, and looked around at his clean house. “Hey there sleepy head, you cleaned my whole fricken house? I’m going to miss more family gatherings if you keep that up.”
Grant sat back and smiled; he was holding the brass fishing hook so when his dad looked up he wouldn’t be able to miss it. Thinking to himself, “Shit, my dad can be so damn cool sometimes.” His dad just lay reclined back as still as could be, the news lady on TV was complaining about something, and Grants eyes grew big body lunging forward.
“Oh fuck… DAD!”
Can you sing in your dreams?
An evening to type; how great it can be. How I wish more of it.
Chickens and Ducks,
They are doing great and are all so much like a flock 
(the ducks with the chicken) that it really amazes me that I am now a keeper or birds. Lol. My Roo, the Jersey Giant, is now almost up to full crow and I believe size; with this I need to find a good inexpensive vet, who knows birds, to cut out Rex’s (the roo’s name) little but load voice box so I can keep his giant self around longer. He is a beautiful, some what tame, black with red bumpy dangle things, monster of a large bird with all the makings of a great flock keeper someday. The white ducks like him so much, that when I pick him up one of the little buggers bites at my toes when I am wearing my old worn out Rock Port sandals. It tickles really as it nibbles away at my little toes, but every once in a while they hit a tender spot and I cant help but to laugh like crazy and pretend to run from the little guy; it of course chases me as a laugh until I almost cry. The homemade chicken coop is staying together quite well and looks pretty good too.
The six birds stay in the yard now that the ducks can’t get out. Just the other day there were many openings in my front gate that could allow the birds, dogs and pig to get out as they
please. I had some fencing to put up to try to keep them in, but it has been so hot out that trying to put up the galvanized steal was out of the question. Since we have been getting this little bit of cool rain here lately I was able to trap in the yard so non can just walk out; the chickens can fly over the short fence if they so choose, but they wont leave the ducks for long and come right back. Now that the yard is secure I let out miss piggy for a little while each day and she just loves getting into all my plants and eating them. She is cute but is not so cute that I won’t eat her. I can’t wait for the chickens to start laying eggs so we can start eating nice fresh eggs.
I don’t know how many of you know how much I hate to shave. Well I hated it until now, I purchased a new double edged chrome safety razor made by Merkur. The blades are super cheap and the shave is closer than any shave from home I have ever had. I have used so many expensive disposable razor and two electric razor and could never get a good shave. The razors that did do an expectable job only lasted about three shaves before I started getting razor burn. My electric razors never cut it and I only kept them for when I ran out of expensive disposables and didn’t want to buy refills. I thought about learning how to shave with a straight razor but a good blade is pricey and I am not sure how good at sharpening I am. So I started looking into old school safety razors. I found the Merkur on Amazon and it had like 369 five star comments for 
it. I put it in my shopping cart and waited. When it got here I raced to the bathroom washed my face with some warm water and a clean rag (no soap), I lathered up my face with some Barbasol Beard Buster and cautiously went to town on my hairy face. At first I was really taking my time and being overly cautious, but after about the first cheek being clean I started speeding up and shaving like normal. By the time I was nearly done I was flying, three days later when I shaved again it was like second nature and the fear was gone. I cant wait to shave tomorrow before work. I will most likely be getting Sarah one to since I read a few comments put up by women who said they would never go back to any other razor on the market. Sarah is just nervous about cutting herself.
Arianna Lore Shirk, Aunt Connie and Cousin Alicia got to see the very few pictures I have of you yesterday. They say you are the most beautiful little girl and that they are going to be praying that you will get to know me soon. I know you will find me someday and your family here will be waiting with open arms.
Thanks to Uncle Mike, Macey and Reagan got to go fishing for the first time ever. We were at Sarah’s grandmothers for my weekend and the four of us tried to catch some fishies. All the while Reagan wanted to look over the edge of the old wooden dock scaring the crap out of us and his mom who sat on the boat ramp watching . Macey almost hooked all of us at least once and wanted nothing to do with anyone casting for her. Reagan just wanted to sword fight with the poles. So there were five of us, Macey, Reagan, Sarah, Mikey and I. We had a good time until the mosquitos attacked.
The same weekend as above we all went to Swan Lake and took some great pictures. This one is amazing. I love Reagan’s curiosity and the time we got to spend just looking at the fish here in this little pond. Reagan was so amazed by the fish and wanted to just grab at them as they swam by us. We hung out here for a little while after everyone left us just so I could enjoy some daddy son time. I wanted to put him in the pond but there is a camera beamed on the pond; plus I wasn’t sure if Reagan would have liked it much. lol.
On the 28th Sarah and I celebrate our second wedding anniversary. Two whole years have just flown by and I have loved every second of of it. Our plans are to start the day with a fresh new tattoo, then nice tasty dinner; from there we are going to a strip club and finish the night with a walk home from our local bar. all of that is great fun and way cheaper than a hotel on the beach where we have to be out by eleven. I love you baby, I cant wait till our 60th anniversary.
Goodnight my friends
Goodnight Arianna Lore Shirk
Michael Trump 