Old Man North

by Donna Poole

Maddie dropped her bucket, bait, ice-auger, and homemade fishing pole. She groaned and put both hands on her back as she tried to straighten. “Degenerative disc disease isn’t going to stop me,” she muttered.  “At least I don’t have dementia, in spite of what my family and the townspeople think.”

She’s heard the whispers. “What’s a woman her age doing on that ice every day? She’s a brick shy of a full load.”

What choice did she have?

Maddie shivered, wrapped her worn coat tighter, and pulled the old scarf up over her mouth. That north wind off the mountains had teeth in its bite today. As soon as she got a bit farther out she’d sit on her bucket and turn her back to Old Man North. That would help some.

She’d been trying to keep the wind at her back for well over seventy years, but wind is slippery and sneaky. Before you can say zip-a-dee-doo-dah, it zero-turns from a warm breeze to a blizzard that smacks you in the face and rips your heart apart.

Old Man North had torn Maddie’s heart more than once. The most recent blow had been Walter’s death. They’d had fifty years, more than most. She and Walter had laughed and cried together, raised three great kids, and built “The Water’s Edge” from a shack into an elegant restaurant, famous for its freshwater fish caught right here in Georgetown Lake.

“Don’t cry over what’s gone forever,” Maddie chided herself. “Tears will freeze your cheeks in this Montana wind chill.”

Walking on clear ice always felt satisfyingly surreal. This ice was just right at about six inches. It would easily support her weight. The cold though, the cold. . . . But really, what choice did she have?

If the fishing was good today she might catch Salmon, Rainbow, or even a Brook Trout. She’d sell a few to The Water’s Edge. They were always willing to buy her fish. She hoped they didn’t pay extra because they felt sorry for her.

Maddie was short of breath after drilling a six-inch hole. With her back to the wind, she pulled up the scarf that had slipped and sat down. She expertly baited two maggots on a glow hook, dropped the line, and twitched the bait slightly up and down. Trout sure would taste good. She noticed how loosely her coat hung. She needed to eat better.

It was a good day. Within minutes she had two Rainbows and a Brook Trout.

That’s when she noticed the two little boys on the shore, shouting and waving their arms. Had someone broken through the ice? Were the boys crying? No, it sounded more like laughing.

Maddie stood and squinted to see. Was that. . .?

“Grandma!” Their voices carried. “Hurry! We’ve come to see you!”

Her family had driven ninety miles from Missoula to Anaconda without telling her they were coming? Why?

The little boys ran out on the ice to help. Kaleb carried the bucket with its fifteen pounds of fish.

“Kaleb, that’s too heavy for you.”

“I’m almost eight, Grandma. I have more muscles than you.”

She laughed. It was probably true. Well, she wouldn’t be selling fish to The Water’s Edge today. They’d need all the fish for supper.

Kaleb and Reece laughed and talked all the way to shore, but her son and daughter-in-law met her with tight lipped frowns. She knew a lecture was coming, but maybe they’d wait until they got home. That was always an issue too. They didn’t like her living conditions either.

After a lovely fish dinner prepared by Maddie’s cook, they sat in the luxurious living room in front of a roaring fire. The boys romped with Blackie the old lab and Sunny the golden retriever. The six cats curled up on laps and wound around feet.

Max pushed a cat away. He wanted Maddie to get rid of the menagerie.

“Mom.” Max sighed. “Why do you keep ice fishing every day? It’s not safe.”

“I have to.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“The menagerie likes fresh fish.” It was lame; she knew it.

“And with all your money, you could afford an entire fish store.”

“You don’t understand. I have no choice. It’s how I keep Old Man North at my back.”

She thought he’d be angry. Suddenly, he roared with laughter. “Everyone has to get old sometime, Mom, even you! Will you at least buy a warmer coat?”

“I always wore that coat when I fished with your dad.”

He waited.

“Okay! I’ll buy a new coat.”

“And you’ll call every time before you go out on the ice and when you get back?”

“I will, but the day I don’t call, don’t think Old Man North won. He never will, because I’m going where Dad already is, and they don’t allow any north wind there.”

“No,” Max said, “I’m pretty sure Old Man North loses the game there.”

Maddie stood in the curved driveway and waved goodbye to her family before she walked back inside. The cook was gone now, but it didn’t feel lonely. Old Man North howled around the chimney, but she was safe and warm; he couldn’t get in here yet. Maybe not for a long time.

Thank you to my friend, Lonie Hutchison, for helping me locate this picture of Georgetown Lake, and to her friend, Pam Burgess Morfitt for the beautiful photography!