By Barbara Jorgen Nance
Something's fishy underneath that iridescent aluminum foil rainbow robe. It's something intriguing, yet fishy and slimy. Let me back up in time and we'll get to the bottom of this story that takes place on Crowley Lake, located in the Eastern Sierras of California.
One moment my memories are fading to dust and blowing away in the wind. A whisper of time ticks by and memories show up at our back door. We seem to always let them in, or at least I do. Especially if the memory involves a fish wearing an iridescent aluminum foil rainbow robe. They're like my old friends from youth. For countless hours I would hang over the edge of Dad's fishing boat searching for the glint and glitter of fish scales wrapped in aluminum foil. Was the occasional fish that scanned the surface just looking for a little light in which to shine and show off in? Was it a game the fish played with the sun? Was he daring the sunbeam to travel underwater into his territory? Or was the fish toying with me? Calling my name and telling me "just a minute, wait there just a little while longer and you'll surely catch a glimpse of my iridescent aluminum foil rainbow robe".
So I waited. I waited under the swirling clouds for the sun to peak through again and stretch its arm down into the lake. I waited for the perfect moment when the sunbeam makes contact with rainbow robe and sends glitter to the water surface. If that fish were close enough at that moment, I might be compelled to pet him, but for the slime. Yes, that beautiful rainbow colored foil robe is covered in slime.
I continued to wait and watch. I heard that fish once again say, "just wait a minute longer." Well, maybe that was Dad talking, but I'd like to imagine it's the fish. That way I can store the story away in my shoebox of unsolved mysteries. I can see how men's fish stories can easily grow to enormous proportions. Once you leave the shore and bid the world farewell, anything goes and nobody knows. Was it really a whopper or perhaps only a minnow?
We were in fact blessed with many successful fishing trips. At the end of the day, I watched Dad go through his usual ritual of preparing our fish dinner. He'd light the fire under our blackened iron skillet and gently place the fish, still dressed in his rainbow robe, into the hot oil. While crackling and sizzling, I'd watch the delicate pink meat turn to flakey white as it cooked. Dad called us kids to the table and served up his gourmet dish. We ate the fish without any frills or fancy garnish.
The next morning before dawn, we'd board the boat and go out to hunt more fish. I'd watch for the glint and glitter of another iridescent aluminum foil rainbow robe.
