This is about as perfect as it gets. Early morning sun rising in the east, a light mist rising from the water, the soft splash of my lure as I cast it along the brush lining the shore. Fishing just doesn't get much better. I love fishing in the morning like this; watching and listening to nature. A blue heron wading the shore, a lone turkey gobbling on the hillside. I wondered if the stupid turkey realized that mating season was already over, but the wondering was short lived as the water exploded a few yards from the boat where my buzz bait was chopping its way through the water as I retrieved it.
Yeah, it didn't get much better than this. I let the too small fish go back into the lake with a splash and ticked on the remote for the trolling motor, its electric driven prop cutting into the water and dragging along my big V hull with only the slightest whisper of the ripples gurgling past the hull.
I really loved these nice warm mornings, just me against the fish. What are they eating, where, how deep, what color? My tackle boxes were stuffed with what my wife considers an excess of lures in an attempt to have just the right lure at the right time. This morning it felt like I had the hot combination as yet another bass pounded my bait. There was always the instant rush of adrenalin when you first feel the fish jerking wildly on the end of the line when he realizes that his breakfast was firmly stuck in his mouth and dragging him through the water. He fought under the water, and then in a desperate attempt to throw the offending meal out of his mouth he flipped in the air; standing on his tale and shaking his whole body vigorously.
Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't. This time it did and the fish went to hide and think about how unpalatable that particular meal was. I went back to selecting the next spot to throw my lure to see if I could entice another fish to bite.
Yeah, it was almost a perfect morning...almost. What was disturbing the morning was the knock-down drag-out argument between what sounded like a young couple on another boat. Funny thing about a lake in the early morning; sound carries a long way. The other boat could be a few dozen yards through the mist, around the next point or all the way across on the other shore. Not that it really mattered all that much, the fish didn't really care about the argument and it did provide a certain amount of entertainment. Well, entertainment might not be the right word. The longer the argument went, the more obvious it became that the couple was in serious trouble.
"What the fuck do you mean by that?" The female voice shouted.
"Just what it sounded like!" The male voice shot back angrily.
"How the hell could you say such a thing?"
"It's easy. You're not enough. Not now and never have been!" He shouted.
"Is that why you're fucking some God damn bimbo?" She screamed. "Why the hell did you even marry me if you don't think I'm enough woman for you?"
"Let's face it, you're too damn skinny, your tits are too small, and fucking you is like fucking a blowup doll!" He answered angrily.
"A fucking blow up doll?! You think having sex with me is like a God damn blowup doll? How can you be so fucking mean?" She screamed.
"Hey...You're the problem here, not me. I can't help it you just lay there take it."
"Oh? And I suppose your God damn bimbo just screams her little lungs out and bounces her body all over for you?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, she does!" He shouted back.
"Well, I hope you really enjoy fucking the little cunt because it's all you're getting! I'm done. Get your shit out of the house! I don't want to ever see you again!"
"So what, you're going to walk home?" He shouted back with a laugh in his voice. "Have fun with that!"
"Yeah, I'll fucking walk home if I have to! And by the time I get home you and your shit better fucking be gone!" She screamed just before a large splash could be heard.
"Fine! Just try to walk your ass home!" He shouted over the sound of a cranking outboard.
The outboard lit up and within seconds you could hear a bass boat screaming across the lake.
"Well, that certainly sounded bad." I muttered, thinking back to some of the fights that my wife and I had over the years. I pitched my lure at the shore again just as the waves from the bass boat gently began rocking my boat and then washed against the rocky shore. I guess they were pretty close, which was not a good thing for the woman if she did what it sounded like. The piece of shore I was fishing looked like a long peninsula, but with the water over five feet above the normal level it was essentially an island.
I shook my head and cast out my lure again, looking at the rising sun and thinking about how long it would be before it started getting stinky hot. The depth finder said the water was sixty-five degrees, which explained why the fish were along the rocky shore. The heat from the sun beating on the rocks the day before warmed the water along the shore slightly higher, attracting the tiny minnows, which attracted the small fish which attracted, well, what I was interested in catching.
The sun had climbed much higher in the sky by the time I rounded the last point on the peninsula and started working the south shoreline. What I expected to see was more rocky shoreline, what I didn't expect to see was a slender twenty something year old woman, sitting on the shoreline, her feet sitting on the shore just in front of her butt and her knees up in the air, her head and arms resting on her knees. Her long blond hair was plastered to her head and her pink wind suit looked equally plastered, and still quite wet.
She looked up as I approached her eyes red from crying. I sighed and hooked my bait on my rod; stowing it in the rod holder. Yeah, I was one of those kinds of guys, unable to pass by a damsel in distress. I eased the boat away from the shore a bit farther and then swung the bow around, building up a little speed before pulling the trolling motor up so it wouldn't be broken off by the rocks. It only took a few moments to coast to shore, that whole time I was perched in the open bow of the runabout; waiting for the crucial second when I would jump out, land on shore, and still have time to turn around and keep the fiberglass hull from being bashed in by the sharp rocks.
It's a maneuver I've done on this lake dozens of times, and this time was no different. I made my leap, landed on the uneven rocks, swiveled around and caught the bow rail to stop the momentum of the boat before it hit the shore. I took the bow line that I held as I jumped and tied it to a tree to hold the boat from floating away when I pushed it out a foot or two from shore. In the still water I wasn't worried about it floating back.
"You look like you need some help." I said to the woman quietly.
"Not really." She practically whispered.
"You sure? Gonna be pretty hard to walk home from here." I said as I stepped over to her and crouched down a few feet away.
"You heard?"
"Everyone on the lake heard." I answered with a shrug.
"Great. Just what I needed. I suppose everyone knows that I suck at sex now." She said, putting her head back on her knees.
"Oh you can't take his word for that. It just sounded like he was angry."
"No, I was angry. He was just spiteful." She whispered. "I was angry."
"Well, for what it's worth, it sounded like you had good reason." I said. "Sure you don't want a ride someplace dry?"
"No, I'll walk in a bit." She said putting her head back down again.
"Actually, you probably won't. With the water up this high you won't get any place without taking a swim." I told her quietly.
"Awww shit. I can't do anything right!" She said despondently.
"Come on. I'll take you to the landing and then you can call someone to come get you." I coaxed, holding a hand out for her.
"That could be tough." She said reaching into her pocket and pulling out her cell phone. "I had this in my pocket when I jumped in."
"Ohhh that could make it harder. I have a cell in my car you can call on." Told her as I stood up, still holding my hand out.
She looked at my hand for a long time and then finally reached out and took it, allowing me to help pull her up. She let go when she was standing, so I turned to lead the way to where the boat was tied a few feet away. I untied the rope, gave it a gentle tug to pull in and used the bow rail to hold the hull just off the rocky shore. She looked at the boat hesitantly and then finally stepped toward it, reaching for the rail. She easily levered her tall thin frame up and over the rail to the open bow, sitting down on one of the padded seats. I pushed the boat away from the shore, and hopped nimbly over the railing, but in the process stepped on the young lady's foot. I tried to not put all my weight on it and fell into a seat across from her.
