The Girl On the Bridge, (Part 1, Excerpt 42)
by Bob Kranich
This is a new story titled, The Girl On the Bridge. It’s a short kind of funny story of my Uncle and Me fishing on a bridge and a pretty girl my age cones by to fish.
The Girl On the Bridge
Robin, Sandy and I were seated at the table for breakfast. Aunt Dolores was just about to finish in the kitchen and start serving, when Uncle Norman appeared.
“Good morning, Sweetie,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Why, good morning to you, Honey,” she said.
Then with his usual fanfare, he came down the steps proclaiming, “Today Bob and I are going to go fishing!”
“We’ll go,” Sandra exclaimed.
“Take us too!” Robin echoed.
“No, you girls have homework to do. Clean your rooms, and then we will do some shopping.” Aunt Dolores announced.
“Oh no!” they both exclaimed in unison.
Then Aunt Dolores set heaping plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and powder dough biscuits on the center of the table.
Everyone was helping themselves, and Uncle Norman began to explain, “Sorry, girls, but this morning Bob and I are going out to the bridge to No Name Key and catch some Snapper for supper, and you girls will be able to go fishing soon enough.”
“Right after breakfast, Bob, meet me by the Metropolitan out front. I’m going to get some fishing gear from the trailer.”
I hurried and brushed my teeth and went out front. There was Uncle Norman’s petite turquoise and white Metropolitan. Uncle Norman had bought this little Metropolitan used in the early 60’s. It seated two adults and had a small fold-down seat behind. This seat could only be used for small children and Uncle Norman’s fishing rods. This car was made by Nash in the late 50’s. It was a gas saver, as much as 40 miles per gallon, when fuel economy wasn’t even appreciated. However, Uncle Norman drove it like a sports car. The little Austin engine with the three-speed got him around at a good pace.
“Well, Bob, we’re ready to go,” he said as he placed a couple of fishing rods in the back jump seats together with an ice chest.
“I’ve got our lunch in the ice chest. We’ll pick up some ice and bait on the way. You had better run back to the camper, and get that floppy hat you wore on your hike across Florida. It can get real hot on the bridge.”
I hurried back to the camper and came right back.
“We’re off for a great day of fishing. We’ll go by Garrison Bight, and get our ice and bait,” Uncle Norman said very cheerfully.
We zipped down Fogarty Ave, then took a right out to North Roosevelt Boulevard and crossed over to a store and bait shack adjacent to the Key West Yacht Club.
“I like to come in here to get my ice. This is where all us local conchs shop for our fishing supplies. You know what a conch is Bob?
“I think it is someone who lives here in the Keys,” I guessed.
“Almost right. Of course a conch is really a seashell. But conchs are people either born in the Keys or who have lived here a long time and have taken up the Keys’ ways. I’m the latter.”
“Let’s get going!” he said.
We pulled back out onto North Roosevelt Boulevard and moved along at a fast pace to the East end of Key West.
“What a beautiful street!” I thought.
There were coconut palms lining the street on both sides and some in the middle. Getting the green light at our turn at US 1, off we went! The little Metropolitan just purred along as Uncle Norman went through the three gears. We were through Cow Key before I knew it.
“We’ll go a little slower through this next Key. It’s got the big Naval Air Station on it. There it is, Boca Chica Naval Air Station. It would be a bit embarrassing if the paymaster of the Key West sub base got a ticket!”
I could see three big blimps on the runway next to very large hangers. There was a lumbering prop naval transport plane struggling to get air borne.
We left the Naval Air Station, and the little car picked up speed. Saddlebunch, Sugarloaf, Cudjoe, Summerland, Ramrod and then Big Pine Key. We did those 30 miles in less than 45 minutes! It had taken me a couple of days when I was walking.
Uncle Norman began his gearing down, and we turned off US 1 to the left heading north on 4A. What a beautiful day it was. I was enthralled as we crossed all the bridges connecting the Keys. I could see the clear turquoise green water now as we traveled. When I walked these bridges I was constantly looking out for the oncoming cars, and consequently I had little time to enjoy the view.
“How you doing, Bob? We’re going to take this newly paved road to the right here. It goes out to the brand new concrete bridge to No Name.”
Big Pine Key was true to its name. There were plenty of big pine trees. But they were big only in contrast to those of the other Keys. They were very small in comparison to the pine trees on the mainland that I was familiar with.
“Since this is a two-lane bridge, and it goes out to a dead end, we’ll drive out a ways. We can always move if we have to. Look, there’s a convertible out on the bridge. We’ll just park near to it, and see what’s biting,” Uncle Norman stated.
We passed and parked a couple of car lengths in front of the convertible. As we went by I noticed a lady fishing. She was leaning on the concrete rail and had on a large sun hat. We got out, and Uncle Norman grabbed the rods and his tackle box.
He whispered, “Bobby that’s a good looking girl about your age. Maybe you could strike up a conversation.”
As we walked up to within a car’s length of her, I could now see my Uncle was right-on. She was a knock-out! She turned to look at us…a beauty! Wow! I was in love!
This is a new story titled, The Girl On the Bridge. It’s a short kind of funny story of my Uncle and Me fishing on a bridge and a pretty girl my age cones by to fish.
The Girl On the Bridge
Robin, Sandy and I were seated at the table for breakfast. Aunt Dolores was just about to finish in the kitchen and start serving, when Uncle Norman appeared.
“Good morning, Sweetie,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Why, good morning to you, Honey,” she said.
Then with his usual fanfare, he came down the steps proclaiming, “Today Bob and I are going to go fishing!”
“We’ll go,” Sandra exclaimed.
“Take us too!” Robin echoed.
“No, you girls have homework to do. Clean your rooms, and then we will do some shopping.” Aunt Dolores announced.
“Oh no!” they both exclaimed in unison.
Then Aunt Dolores set heaping plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and powder dough biscuits on the center of the table.
Everyone was helping themselves, and Uncle Norman began to explain, “Sorry, girls, but this morning Bob and I are going out to the bridge to No Name Key and catch some Snapper for supper, and you girls will be able to go fishing soon enough.”
“Right after breakfast, Bob, meet me by the Metropolitan out front. I’m going to get some fishing gear from the trailer.”
I hurried and brushed my teeth and went out front. There was Uncle Norman’s petite turquoise and white Metropolitan. Uncle Norman had bought this little Metropolitan used in the early 60’s. It seated two adults and had a small fold-down seat behind. This seat could only be used for small children and Uncle Norman’s fishing rods. This car was made by Nash in the late 50’s. It was a gas saver, as much as 40 miles per gallon, when fuel economy wasn’t even appreciated. However, Uncle Norman drove it like a sports car. The little Austin engine with the three-speed got him around at a good pace.
“Well, Bob, we’re ready to go,” he said as he placed a couple of fishing rods in the back jump seats together with an ice chest.
“I’ve got our lunch in the ice chest. We’ll pick up some ice and bait on the way. You had better run back to the camper, and get that floppy hat you wore on your hike across Florida. It can get real hot on the bridge.”
I hurried back to the camper and came right back.
“We’re off for a great day of fishing. We’ll go by Garrison Bight, and get our ice and bait,” Uncle Norman said very cheerfully.
We zipped down Fogarty Ave, then took a right out to North Roosevelt Boulevard and crossed over to a store and bait shack adjacent to the Key West Yacht Club.
“I like to come in here to get my ice. This is where all us local conchs shop for our fishing supplies. You know what a conch is Bob?
“I think it is someone who lives here in the Keys,” I guessed.
“Almost right. Of course a conch is really a seashell. But conchs are people either born in the Keys or who have lived here a long time and have taken up the Keys’ ways. I’m the latter.”
“Let’s get going!” he said.
We pulled back out onto North Roosevelt Boulevard and moved along at a fast pace to the East end of Key West.
“What a beautiful street!” I thought.
There were coconut palms lining the street on both sides and some in the middle. Getting the green light at our turn at US 1, off we went! The little Metropolitan just purred along as Uncle Norman went through the three gears. We were through Cow Key before I knew it.
“We’ll go a little slower through this next Key. It’s got the big Naval Air Station on it. There it is, Boca Chica Naval Air Station. It would be a bit embarrassing if the paymaster of the Key West sub base got a ticket!”
I could see three big blimps on the runway next to very large hangers. There was a lumbering prop naval transport plane struggling to get air borne.
We left the Naval Air Station, and the little car picked up speed. Saddlebunch, Sugarloaf, Cudjoe, Summerland, Ramrod and then Big Pine Key. We did those 30 miles in less than 45 minutes! It had taken me a couple of days when I was walking.
Uncle Norman began his gearing down, and we turned off US 1 to the left heading north on 4A. What a beautiful day it was. I was enthralled as we crossed all the bridges connecting the Keys. I could see the clear turquoise green water now as we traveled. When I walked these bridges I was constantly looking out for the oncoming cars, and consequently I had little time to enjoy the view.
“How you doing, Bob? We’re going to take this newly paved road to the right here. It goes out to the brand new concrete bridge to No Name.”
Big Pine Key was true to its name. There were plenty of big pine trees. But they were big only in contrast to those of the other Keys. They were very small in comparison to the pine trees on the mainland that I was familiar with.
“Since this is a two-lane bridge, and it goes out to a dead end, we’ll drive out a ways. We can always move if we have to. Look, there’s a convertible out on the bridge. We’ll just park near to it, and see what’s biting,” Uncle Norman stated.
We passed and parked a couple of car lengths in front of the convertible. As we went by I noticed a lady fishing. She was leaning on the concrete rail and had on a large sun hat. We got out, and Uncle Norman grabbed the rods and his tackle box.
He whispered, “Bobby that’s a good looking girl about your age. Maybe you could strike up a conversation.”
As we walked up to within a car’s length of her, I could now see my Uncle was right-on. She was a knock-out! She turned to look at us…a beauty! Wow! I was in love!
From the Author:
My second full-length book , Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers is composed of 336 pages. There are 12 stories running from 6 pages to as many as 72 pages. It is fully illustrated with 88 watercolors and sketches. The watercolors I made roaming around Key West after I finished my 750 mile hike from Georgia to Key West. (See book or Don Browne's SouthWest Florida Online News records, A Walk Across Florida.) As you read these stories you will experience Key West, the Keys, and the Caribbean. These stories span the time of the early 1800’s to 1969. bkranich.wixsite.com/bobkranich
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