I heard that when white folks go fishin they do somethin called 'catch and release.'Catch and release? I nodded solemnly, suddenly nervous and curious at the same time.'That really bothers me', Denver went on. 'I just can't figure it out. 'Cause when colored folks go fishin, we really proud of what we catch, and we take it and show it off to everybody that'll look. Then we eat what we catch...in other words, we use it to SUSTAIN us. So it really bothers me that white folks would go to all the trouble to catch a fish, when when they done caught it, just throw it back in the water.'He paused again, and the silence between us stretched a full minute. Then: 'Did you hear what I said?'I nodded, afraid to speak, afraid to offend.Denver looked away, searching the blue autumn sky, then locked onto me again with that drill-bit start. 'So, Mr. Ron, it occurred to me: If you is fishin for a friend you just gon' catch and release, then I ain't got no desire to be your friend.'I returned Denver's gaze with what I hoped was a receptive expression and hung on.Suddenly his eyes gentled and he spoke more softly than before: 'But if you is lookin for a REAL friend, then I'll be one. Forever.