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The Carp
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The Carp |
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Clang Member
since 2005-12-15
Posts 222 |
July 1999 It was a hot summer day and the fish were biting as we sat upon the banks of the river below Holter dam. Only, it was the wrong fish. One by one we emptied the water of its carp. Elated, my boyfriend reeled in a twenty-pounder that fought like a trout. The excitement of the catch was soon curtailed when we saw the yellow scales. In frustration he threw the fish up onto the road, against my pleading that we should set it free. I felt bad for the fish, but Goob showed no mercy. He put forth that we would only catch it again. Although I might argue that the current would take the carp downstream to where the other fisherman down river were parked, and that hopefully they would catch it, thus increasing our odds of snagging a trout. But I kept my mouth shut-a once in a lifetime experience for me, I might warrant. So, the fish remained in the middle of the road. Soon the wisdom of this became apparent. Weekend river enthusiasts had, up until that time, been screaming up the dirt road. The dust stirred by their passing made breathing near to impossible. The fish changed all that. It was as good as a speed bump. Passers-by would slow to view the fish, and the choking dust was cut to a minimum. Another hour passed and Goob, still reeling in carp was about to call it a day. I was perfectly content with my red and white bobber out in the river and enjoying the sunshine. “Bobbers are not for rivers,” he kept reminding me, but I liked it. Besides, the dog liked to swim out to retrieve it when I would cast, so it kept her busy. Although I knew the rules, it was fun to provoke and irritate Goob’s sense of fisherman’s protocol. Then the truck stopped up on the road. We could not see it because we were hidden below the bank, but one could recognize the sound. The driver’s side door slammed shut, then we heard the creek of the window on the topper and a blood curdling scream. We heard the driver get back into the vehicle and the truck sped off. Slowly Goob and I bellied up the bank to peer at the road. Our fish had been absconded! We both laughed. “No more speed bump,” Goob muttered. |
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rad802 Member
since 2008-04-19
Posts 279KY U.S.A. |
Poor carp. A worthy legacy is the irrevocable consequence of dreaming. |
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