Another Date Fishing - Everett
Chapter fifteen
One thing I thought I would never do. Go fishing. Actual fishing pole, hook in the water, fishing. But I was up earlier than my normal butt-crack-of-the-morning time and on my way to meet up with Cameron to do just that.
We met at Harrington’s to pick up some supplies.
Cameron said he had some things but would like to get a few more.
I didn’t think the store would open that early, and it wasn’t.
I pulled into a nearly empty parking lot with only one vehicle, Cameron’s truck, parked.
He got out and met me at the rear of the vehicle and pulled his tailgate down.
“We’ll be waiting for a bit, but I wanted to be sure we got here as soon as they opened. ”
“I could have waited.” I glared at him until he handed me a large to-go cup of coffee, and after taking a sip, I realized he’d fixed it exactly how I liked it. How the heck did he know that? “Mm…”
“Glad you like it. I also got us some tacos.”
“Tacos?” I liked the truck but it was entirely too early for that.
“No, not that kind of taco. These are like burritos with eggs in them.” He pulled one out of the sack, and I smelled the bacon calling to me.
“Yum. Gimme.” I reached out and he chuckled as he handed the bundle over.
“I have taco sauce if you want.”
I swallowed a bite. “Nope. This. Cheesy. Mmm…” It was perfect, like heaven. I took another bite. “Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome. I thought you’d like them. There’s a second one for you, if you want it.” They were big, but I hadn’t been hungry until I started eating the first one, so I was pretty sure I’d be diving into the second as well.
We ate our morning breakfast-deliciousness while waiting for the store to open, sitting on the tailgate and watching the sun come up. “I have to admit this is pretty cool.”
“Glad you think so. Oh, they’re opening. Come on.” He took my hand and led me to the store.
As soon as we pushed through the doors, we were greeted by a happy guy. “Hey, Cameron. You’re here early.”
“Ryan, this is Everett Lundy. He owns the new brewery, and I’m taking him up to the lake this morning.”
“Fishing?” Ryan asked.
“Yep.”
“Got it. Come this way. I’m sure we’ll find what you need.” He led us over to some shelves full of all kinds of fishing stuff. In fact, they had two full aisles of it. Cameron picked out a couple of rods, reels, a tackle box, and a bunch of stuff to go in it.
“Is that all for me?” It was too much, especially when I’d probably never go fishing again.
“Yes and no. I needed to replenish my supplies anyway. I lost a rod and reel last year.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but Ryan started laughing.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Shut up, Ryan.”
“What happened? You have to tell me now.” I shoved Cameron’s shoulder.
He growled and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Had a stupid walleye rip it out of my hands.”
“What’s a walleye?”
“It’s in the perch family, I’m sure. They’re kind of a silvery green. This one had to be damn near twenty-five pounds.”
“More like fifteen,” Ryan added with a shrug.
“Whatever.”
“It was at a tournament, and everyone was there. Cameron was standing there, walking back and forth with his line in the water, when suddenly it just took off.” He made a gesture with both hands, one clapping the other, then sailing off into the air.
“Gone. Just gone. Lost a good jig that day too.”
I laughed along with them because Cameron was so remorseful, but Ryan seemed like he’d never let him forget the incident. It warmed my heart a little. Was this the inviting, family-like side of small-town living? Would I ever be included in that?
Cameron put his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t scare my man off with this nonsense, Ryan. Come on, let’s check out.”
In no time, we were headed to the lake together in Cameron’s truck. He said he had a favorite spot he wanted to show me.
“Is it where that walleye ate your pole?”
Cameron snorted. “He didn’t eat my pole. Don’t say things like that.”
“Well…” I snickered.
“No. It’s better.”
We parked in a tiny lot and walked down, carrying our gear. When we hit the lake, I was ready to stop, but Cameron kept going to the left. “It’s down here, out of the way of most other folks.”
I didn’t know how to judge a fishing spot, but this one seemed nice. He set the gear on a relatively flat piece of land beside the water. The trees all around blocked us from view and provided much-needed shade. Honestly, it was lovely. “Uh, what do I do now?”
“Get comfortable. Sit by the water, and I’ll hook you up.” I sat down, and true to his word, he fixed up a pole and showed me how to toss it out. “If that bobber goes under the water, you yank the pole up and start reeling.”
“Is that all there is to it?”
“Not always, but since it’s your first time, we’re keeping it simple.” He fixed his own pole, similar to mine, and sat beside me. “It’s too early for beer, but I’ve got some packed in the cooler for later.”
“It better be FBB IPA.” That was the craft beer we bottled and sold around town, including in the grocery store.
“You know it.”
“Good.”
We waited quietly with nothing happening for a long time. It was a little boring, but also peaceful. “It kind of feels good to be still.”
“Mmm…this is the life, right. You could use more fishing time. It’s not even about catching anything, you know.”
“It’s not?”
“Uh-uh. It’s about finding some zen, quieting everything else in the world, and just being in the moment.”
I watched my bobber float on the water, but nothing was happening.
“I think I understand.” I breathed deeply, taking in the smell of sweet peas coming from the redbuds blooming around us.
The sun slowly crept up into the sky. And Cameron was next to me, giving off a peaceful vibe.
“I could get used to this.” I leaned back on one arm, holding the pole with the other. “Next time, can we bring chairs?”
“What’s the fun in that?”
“Saves my back so I can have more fun later.”
“Good point. Actually, I have chairs, but this felt like the old days, when I was a kid.”
“You really are a gremlin. I’m not a kid. Get the damn chairs, Cameron.”
“Gremlin? Really?”
I growled at him.
“Okay, okay.” He stood and moved to hand me his pole, but just then the bobber dunked down. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He jerked his rod up and started reeling, like he’d told me to do earlier, instead of handing it to me, but the line was going out rather quickly, despite him wrestling with it.
Everything happened fast after that. He took a step toward the lake, still reeling and jerking the rod. A little way out in the water, the fish jumped. “Did you see that?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Looked like a damned walleye. I should cut the line.” But he didn’t. He kept reeling, moving closer and closer to the water.
Then in the water.
“Ever! Grab that net and help me here.” He reeled and jerked, and I saw the olive-green fish shining silvery in the sun as it jumped around much closer than the last time.
I did grab the net, but I wasn’t excited about getting in the water with him. Cameron was up to his knees, but at least he had started moving back toward the shore. “What do I do?”
“Get ready. When I get him close, get that net under him.”
I crouched much like a baseball player in the field, keeping my knees bent and ready to launch myself at the fish. “I’m ready. Bring ‘er in, Cam!”
He grunted and reeled again, turning sideways to pull the fish closer to shore. Then it was splashing out of the water near the bank, and I rushed to get the net under it. “You got it. Move it to the grass.”
We worked together to get the fish to where we had been sitting. It flopped around, but it was caught in the net and on the hook, so it wasn’t going anywhere. Cameron squatted next to it. “Damn walleye. See what happens when you hit my line? Fool me once, mother fucker.”
“You’re chastising a caught fish.”
“Damn straight.”
I found my phone and took a series of pictures. How could I not? Cameron holding the shiny fish, wet to his knees. “I think you need a beer.”
“Let me get his guy unhooked so we can let him go.”
“Let him go?” He’d just worked very hard to bring it in.
“Yeah, don’t you think he deserves to live another day and give some other fisherman trouble?” Cameron had a soft heart that I was beginning to adore. “Besides, like I said, it’s not really about the fish.”
“It’s the experience. Right?”
“Right.”
“One more picture, Gremlin, then let old walleye go.”
“Gremlin…” he muttered my nickname for him under his breath. What a great day this was. “I need a beer after this.”