LeRoy and Laina go fishing

              LeRoy pulled his midnight blue truck parallel to the lake just feet from where the cool water lapped onto rock -filled shore.  He jumped out with Laina following suit and began to set up the fishing gear, pulling out tackle boxes and sifting through until he found the small orange balls he identified as bait.  Laina was filled with a little trepidation as she watched his preparations in awe.  

               She enjoyed fishing, but more often than not, the person she was with ended up spending more time untangling her line then was spent actually fishing.  Needless to say, there were few second invites.

                LeRoy had the two poles leaning on boulders about ten feet apart, lines already casted before Laina even realized he had finished baiting the hooks.  She sat down by on, gazing of into the water, watching it ebb and flow against her perch.  Small movement caught her eye; clear, translucent fish were zipping in and around each other.  Minnows, she thought.

                “Laina,” LeRoy said, standing next to her, the other fishing pole in his hand.  “I’m going to cast this out, then go down the path and set up my trout line.”

                “Ok,” she said with a shrug.

                There must be some trick, she thought as she watched him pull his arm back, and then flung it forward, the whirl of the line ended with a plop as it entered the water.  There must be some trick to a successful cast.  Or just lots and lots of practice.

                “Can you see the bobber?” he asked.  Laina nodded.  “Watch it for me, OK?” he disappeared down the path.

                Laina trained her eye onto the bobber.  It seemed a simple enough task, but then, so was making mac and cheese from the box, the unfortunate first meal she tried making for LeRoy a few months earlier.  It turned into this yellow mushy mess.  And it wasn’t the first time she had made it; in fact, she had been making mac and cheese successfully since she was seven, as long as you didn’t count the time she accidentally set her mom’s books on fire when she turned on the stove.  It was just the first time she had ever cooked anything for him.

                The white and red bobber dipped down below the surface.  She watched it, unsure if a fish was on the line or if the breeze had kicked up enough of a wave to cover it.  The bobber popped back up and Laina relaxed, thinking the later had happened.

                LeRoy and Laina had been married since the middle of April, with a month of separation when LeRoy left for training just a few weeks after.  This was the first outing they really got to go on together since the wedding and 14 hour drive to their new home, a tiny two bedroom, one bath, and a kitchen with counter space as long as her forearm split in two by the sink.  She loved it anyways; it was LeRoy’s and her first home together, even if they were renting.

                The bobber dropped back below the water.  Huh, she thought, that is really strange.

                “Hey, where’s the bobber?” LeRoy asked.

                Laina looked up, startled, “It’s right there, under the water,”

                LeRoy made a strangled noise and lunged forward.  Laina scooted back, thinking the safest place for both of them was out of the way.  LeRoy scrambled a bit, and then stood up with the pole in his hand with a triumphant look on his face.  He beckoned Laina over and had her take the rod.  He circled his arms around her, showing her where to place her hands, and then together they reeled in the fish.

                “I thought I asked to watch the bobber?”

                “I did,” Laina said indignantly, “I knew exactly where it was at.”

                “Then why was it gone?”

                “It wasn’t gone.  I watched it go under the water.  You never said what to do if I couldn’t see it anymore.”

                “Well, you almost watched me go into the lake after my pole.  It wouldn’t have been the first time.”

                “You’ve jumped in after your pole before?”

                “No, it was someone else’s.  I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

                A few more clicks on the reel and a big flopping fish emerged.  Laina squealed and if not for LeRoy, would have dropped the whole thing.

                “Not bad, I’d say this cat is about 5 pounds, 26 inches.  Here,” he said thrusting it out to her, “touch it.”

                She squealed again, and thought about running for it, but she reached out and touched it instead.  LeRoy unhooked it, and then returned the fish to its home.  They stayed awhile longer, catching two more catfish and again releasing them.  They reeled in their lines, and while Laina carried the rods back to the truck, LeRoy ran and gathered up his jug line.

                “So, what’s this story about jumping after a rod?” Laina asked once they had cleaned up and were driving away in the truck.

                LeRoy reached out and intertwined their fingers.  ‘First of, the lake was fed by glacial waters.”

                “Burr,” she said.

                “Yes, now may I continue?”  She nodded.  “I was with family…”

                Laina was an appreciative audience, laughing and sympathizing at the right moments.  There were a few times she wanted to interrupt, but somehow held it back.  Once or twice she still interjected her questions which LeRoy answered patiently.  What better way to end a fishing trip with the tale of another one?

It was a good day of fishing.