A Different Pond – Bao Phi

They need to be dry and clean. I count one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and then ten more for later. I put some rocks in a circle and set up the twigs. “Like a volcano,” Dad reminds me. I set one end of each twig down, the other up, leaning them in so they rest against each other and hold each other up. I get it to light with just one match.

Dad nods. “You want to put a minnow on the hook?” Dad asks. I want to help, but I shake my head no. I don’t want to hurt that little fish, even if I know it’s about to be eaten by a bigger one. My dad smiles. He isn’t upset with me. Dad hands me a sandwich, cold bologna between two pieces of bread. “Careful of the spicy stuff,” he says. There’s half a peppercorn, like a moon split in two, studded into the meat.

“I used to fish by a pond like this one when I was a boy in Vietnam,” Dad says, biting into his sandwich. “With your brother?” I ask. He nods, then looks away. Dad tells me about the war, but only sometimes. He and his brother fought side by side. One day, his brother didn’t come home. The bobber dips in the dark and Dad pulls. “Got one!” he says, almost shouting.

A crappie! And soon another. “Can I help?” I ask. He nods and I use two hands to help guide the fish into the bucket. The fish feels slimy and rough at the same time. Dad laughs at the funny face I make. Dad smiles, his teeth broken and white in the dark, because we have a few fish and he knows we will eat tonight.

Time to go home. Dad must get ready for work. He washes his hands with a small nub of green and white soap. Then I do the same. I look at the trees as we walk back to the car. I wonder what the trees look like at that other pond, in the country my dad comes from. By the time we get home, the sunlight coming through the windows is just a faint tint, blue and gray instead of gold. At home Mom looks tired, but she smiles at the fish in the big white bucket.

My dad changes his clothes and gets ready to go to work.

written by Bao Phi illustrated by Thi Bui A Different Pond is published by Picture Window Books, a Capstone imprint 1710 Roe Crest Drive, North Mankato, Minnesota 56003 www.mycapstone.com Text copyright © 2017 Bao Phi Illustrations copyright © 2017 Picture Window Books All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Phi, Bao, 1975- author. | Bui, Thi, illustrator. Title: A different pond / by Bao Phi; illustrated by Thi Bui. Description: North Mankato, Minnesota : Picture Window Books, an imprint of Capstone Press, 2017. | Summary: “As a young boy, Bao Phi awoke early, hours before his father’s long workday began, to fish on the shores of a small pond in Minneapolis. Unlike many other anglers, Bao and his father fished for food, not recreation. Between hope-filled casts, Bao’s father told him about a different pond in their homeland of Vietnam”— Provided by publisher.

Identifiers: LCCN 2016058060| ISBN 9781623708030 (paper over board) | ISBN 9781479597468 (library binding) | ISBN 9781515806943 (eBook PDF) Subjects: LCSH: Vietnamese Americans—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Vietnamese Americans—Fiction. | Immigrants—Fiction. | Fathers and sons—Fiction. | Fishing—Fiction. Classification: LCC PZ7.1.P5153 Di 2017 | DDC [E]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016058060 Editor: Kristen Mohn Designer: Kay Fraser Printed and bound in China. 010313F17 For my family, and for refugees everywhere. —B.P. For the working class and all the young dudes.

—T.B. Dad wakes me quietly so Mom can keep sleeping. It will be hours before the sun comes up. In the kitchen the bare bulb is burning. Dad has been up for a while, making sandwiches and packing the car. “Can I help?” I ask. “Sure,” my dad whispers and hands me the tackle box. The streetlights look brighter and the roads aren’t so busy before the sun comes up. Dad turns on the heater and tells me stories.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: d8bc201fa2b6f4b5
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 8,532,844 bytes (8.138 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• ISBN: 9781623708030, 9781479597468, 9781515806943
• Pages: 34
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 10.4 minutes
• Total Words: 2,081
• Total Characters: 11,864
• Average Words per Page: 61.21
• Average Characters per Page: 348.94

Most Frequent Words

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