The two men drank whiskey and fished off the river bank. Muddy waters were high. Tree limbs floated past them. They fished for catfish but would take anything that hit their lines.

Do you remember that girl in Mississippi? Jimmy asked as he cast his line again. Now, there was a woman, they both laughed. All dolled up wearing a tight red dress. My dad always told me to beware of women wearing red dresses, his friend reeled in a tree branch he’d been pulling on, untangled it, and threw the bobber out into the Kankakee once again. Women down south are better, he said. They’re freer.

You mean easy, Bobby Lee said. Hell. You can walk into any bar in Virginia, Tennessee, even Texas, and walk out with something.

Especially Texas.

Yeah. That’s true.

Women up north are more cautious.  They take their time. Get to know you.

Not too much time, they laughed.  But yeah. Not like Dixie.

The waters rolled swiftly.  Rain clouds formed to the east. They’re all good, Jimmy said. All of them.

Yeah. I suppose so.

They pulled beers from the Styrofoam cooler. Made a toast to women and clanked their cans. Lightening was seen. Thunder was heard.

That’s a goddess, he said. Telling us it’s time to go home.

They always do.