As I sit here working on a new novel, two of the main characters find themselves floundering in a life-and-death, watery situation. The water, having nothing to do with their deadly conundrum, revolved around a fish. Now, the fact that this large disgusting fish was something they were actually attempting to catch set my mind working. You see, I love to fish and have been doing so most of my life. As a kid, and I mean a kid of 14, possibly 15, I found myself standing in the Chickahominy river from April until October.
The river was a short walk of probably three quarters of a mile from my back door til I could get a line wet. This in turn, lent itself to an amazing amount of fodder I could use in writing sessions, especially short stories.
Many smaller backwater tributaries flowed from the main river. I frequented these when I wanted to fish by walking down the middle of one of these canals casting to each side. In this way, I missed nothing due to brush along the bank. The down side came one day after I caught a Pike (Chain Pickerel). I ran this string with a sharpened metal end through the fish’s gills and out its mouth, pushing it through a ring attached to the other end of the stringer.
With the fish secured, I tied it to my belt loop and continued my angling adventure. Several minutes later, I felt a subtle bump on my rear end. I paid no attention until this continued with more repetitions. Turning to see what had the audacity to interfere with my concentrated attempt to procure my quarry; boy, did I see it. The one who dare mess with me while fishing, was the fish I had just caught. I figuratively jumped out of my skin, afraid I was being attacked by something new to this world.
There is one other scenario worth mentioning. I was standing ankle deep in a similar scenario, working my way to deeper water. A small head breaking the surface, flicked a forked tongue at me, waylaying my journey. I fled to the bank, happy I was not chest deep and noticed the serpent followed me to the bank. Upset with this creature interrupting my angling, I found a tree limb; brought it down across his head numerous times until at last my hunting knife removed his slippery head. This in turned allowed me to resume my trip into the river and complete my day of fishing. As you have probably noticed, neither man, beast, or serpent interrupts the time I allot to fishing.
So goes my antics as a young lad. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed sharing.
Take good care of yourself. May God bless you; keep you in his grace and may his countenance shine down upon you! Have a great week!