Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: ARTIFICIAL (08/11/16)
- TITLE: Girl Talk
By Cindy Duncan
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Ben crawled out of his car in the predawn light, fueled only by the extra-large coffee and donuts he’d had on the way over. His grandfather smiled at the sight of him, and wondered how he could’ve let six years pass since their last fishing trip.
“Well, you did show up,” Grandpa said, as he slapped Ben’s shoulder. “It’s a good thing, too, because I need to teach you some things about fishing. And women.”
“I know, Grandpa, I know. But can we save the women lessons until I’m fully awake?” Ben rubbed his eyes, and picked up the tackle box out of Grandpa’s truck. “Whoa, what’s in this thing? You sure it won’t sink the boat?”
“Tools of the trade, my son, tools of the trade. We’re gonna need a good selection of lures if we’re gonna catch ol’ big boy. He’s been evading me for weeks.” They turned the corner, and walked down the hill to Grandpa’s boat, tied up at the water’s edge.
“What happened to your other boat? You know, the big one,” Ben asked, looking around the lake.
“Oh, it’s the same boat. Just looks smaller, ‘cause you’ve gotten bigger, I reckon. Make sure you set that tackle box right in the middle, though, ‘cause it sure enough might sink her if you don’t.”
Ben carefully placed the box in the center of the little boat, causing it to sit at least an inch lower in the lake. Then he and Grandpa climbed carefully in themselves, and the life lessons began.
Grandpa opened the tackle box, and pulled out the first lure. “Now this here’s called a plug. Looks just like a real fish, don’t it? “Cept it’s brighter and shinier than a real fish.”
“And real fish don’t have three triple hooks hanging from them,” Ben replied.
“True. Anyway, it shimmies and shakes through the water, kinda like them girls you’ve probably been noticin’. Sometimes it shakes and splashes a little more than necessary, if you get my drift. Them big fellas can’t resist it.”
Ben felt his face turn red, as he reached in the tackle box and pulled out a lure with blades that looked like propellers. Is this a helicopter lure?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
“That there’s called a spinner. It spins and flashes when you reel it in, sending vibrations through the water. Those fish can feel this one swimming by before they even see it. You ever felt that way?” Grandpa laughed and shook his head.
“Can we get on with the fishing, Grandpa? Let’s leave the women out of this, okay?” Ben picked out a strange looking lure that didn’t look anything like a fish. “Tell me about this one.”
“These are my favorites.” Grandpa took the lure and shook it in the air. You can’t beat a good ol’ jig. It’s got these feathers and tinsel all pretty, covering the hook. Kinda like them young women I mentioned earlier, with their makeup and shiny stuff, tryin’ to lure you in. Don’t fall for it like these fish will. It ain’t real, and it’ll get you in trouble every time. Here, try casting this one.” He handed Ben a rod with a jig already on it.
Ben’s first cast sent the jig flying into the trees. “Oops, I guess it’s been awhile,” he said, as he pulled and yanked on the rod, trying to release it from the limb’s grasp. Suddenly, the line came back to the boat, but the jig remained in the tree. “Oh, man, Grandpa, I’m sorry, I never even got that one in the water.”
“Don’t worry about it, buddy. My daddy used to tell me, ‘if you ain’t losin’ jigs, you ain’t fishin’.’ Now, back to the women. Find you one that’s not all flashy. All that stuff just ain’t necessary. It’s just meant to get you on the hook. You know how it turns out for the fish, right?”
“Yeah, um, Grandpa, we used to use plain old real worms when I was little, but didn’t those fish get hooked too? Hooked is hooked, isn’t it?”
Grandpa chuckled, and nodded his head. “Yeah, you may have me on that, but think about this. At least with the real worm, the fish got a decent meal out of the deal.”
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