Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage - Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

Excerpt from title story "Hunting Muskie":

Tom watched as Norman cast his Lil Ernie far out along the rock ridge that ran below the surface. He cast his own line on the other side of the boat as the look in Arianna's eyes flashed in his mind again.
"I've got cancer."
Norman made the announcement as he cast his line a second time.
"What?!"
"Kidney cancer. Renal Cell Carcinoma, if you want to know the official name for it."
"My God, Dad." Tom let his line go limp in the water. "When did you find out?"
"Does that really matter?"
"Well ... they can operate, right? You can live with one kidney. Lots of people do."
"It's already metastasized. It's in both kidneys."
"Damn. When do you start treatmen"The sixth island from the head of the lake. An oval island, remarkable for its evergreens."ts? You're going to need help. I could take a leave of absence."
"Chemotherapy? I'll tell you the same thing I told the Oncologist. I'll be damned if I'm going to spend what time I have left feeling like hell warmed over."
"But you can't just give up. You've gotta fight it."
Norman cast again.
"Yeah, I know. Catherine Par Traill describing Black Island in one of her stories. I remember everything you taught us. Are we going to talk about this or not?"
"Not."
"Then why even tell me?"
"Muskie take their prey head first. One gulp and that's all she wrote."
"So we're talking about muskie behaviour now?"
"At my age, Thomas, cancer is like a muskie. Once it has got its teeth into you, you're not getting away. Why would I even want to? Your mother is gone. Benjamin is gone. You live 2,000 thousand miles away. And I'm too old to keep coming up here. I may be stubborn. But I know when it's time to bow out gracefully."
A wave of guilt assaulted Tom. He had become too absorbed in his own life, and its fraying edges, to see that his father's life was unraveling to the end of its spool.