I thought it was a stupid thing.
Maybe wanting to impress a pretty girl who will never like me is my first “guy thing” thing. And maybe a stupid thing, too.
Julia climbs out of the front of the boat as soon as it’s clear of the water and sprints off into the trees, crashing through bushes and ducking under tree limbs. She wants to catch up to Charlie. She doesn’t want him to steal her favorite spot.
Sarah and I are alone.
It’s a small island. Tiny, really. Long and thin and pointy at the ends. Shaped kind of like a canoe. You can walk from tip to tip in about ten minutes, and that’s only because it’s overgrown with trees and bushes and prickers.
“Does this island have a name?” Sarah asks as I tie the canoe to a tree.
“We call it Barracuda Island.”
“Why Barracuda?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “My uncle used to take me here when I was little, and he said the water around the island was filled with barracuda. I believed him until I learned about barracuda in a book. Maybe it’s because the island is shaped kind of like a barracuda.”
“Or maybe your uncle made the whole thing up,” Sarah said. “Uncles like to terrorize their nieces and nephews.”
“Maybe. He died, so I can’t ask him.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah says. Her voice changes when she says this. Her whole face changes. She shrinks. I’m so annoyed with myself. She was happy just a second ago. We were talking, and I wasn’t even thinking about talking. I was just doing it, the same way I talk to Jeff. Then I had to mention a dead person and ruin everything.
“It’s okay,” I say. “He died a while ago.” It takes me too long to say this, so now she’s looking at me like I’m broken and stupid.
“Still,” she says, “I’m sorry.” She looks down at her feet. “Dying is the worst.”
I nod. I nod slowly because that’s the cool way to nod, but I want to nod fast enough to knock my head right off my shoulders. I want to nod in the way that screams, Yes! I agree! You’re right! My God! You’re right!
And just like that, I feel like I should tell Sarah about Dad. Like I can tell her. Like a door is open and I can step right through. It’s the first time that door to my dad has ever felt open. I can already feel the weight slowing lifting off my chest.
I’m about to open my mouth, to say words I can’t yet imagine, when Sarah speaks. “Should we follow Julia and Charlie?”
Just like that, the door slams shut, if it had ever been open in the first place.
“Let me get the gear first,” I say. I turn away so she can’t see my face. “We can’t fish without poles and tackle.”
“Do they always abandon you like this?”
“I don’t mind.” I pull the buckets from the bottom of my canoe. “They’re excited, and they stink at lugging the gear.”
“You’re a good big brother.”
“Or just a big, fat sucker,” I say.
Sarah laughs. I’ve never made a pretty girl laugh before. It’s fantastic. I want to do it again for the rest of my life.
I carry the pickle buckets full of tackle and worms. Sarah carries the poles. I lead the way through the trees.
“No path?”
“Nope,” I say. “I mean, not really. It’s not a real path. Just a way to get to the other side of the island without running into the big patches of prickers. No one comes here except us.”
I push through the brush, making sure not to send any branches whipping back at Sarah. For a few moments, the sun disappears behind a canopy of leaves and branches overhead. The air seems warmer. More humid. It really is like Lord of the Flies for a minute.
“How much farther?” Sarah asks. She feels it, too. We’ve disappeared into another world.
“Just around this next bend,” I say.
We step out of the trees on to a small patch of flattened grass and dirt. Near the water, the grass falls away to a muddy bank that drops off about three feet into the pond. Charlie and Julia are sitting on the edge of the bank, throwing stones into the water.
Julia is sitting on her favorite rock. I knew she would be. She always gets what she wants, at least when it comes to her and Charlie. It would be nice to think that Charlie lets her win, but he doesn’t. She’s just faster and smarter than he is.
“Hey, idiots,” I say. “You want to scare away all the fish?”
“Told you,” Julia says. She elbows Charlie in the ribs.
I’m worried again. We only have three fishing poles. If Julia offers to share her pole with Sarah, then the two of them will be stuck together like glue all day along. Part of me wouldn’t mind this because sharing a fishing pole with Sarah scares the hell out of me, but a lot more of me thinks that sharing a fishing pole with Sarah Flaherty might be the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
I’m in luck. Julia and Charlie have made a bet about who will catch the most fish today, so Julia can’t afford to waste a second sharing her pole with anyone. In our family, every bet comes with a wager. It’s Dad’s rule. “A bet without a wager is just talk, and talk is cheap.” Today’s wager is dessert, which is one we use a lot. Within a minute, Charlie and Julia have hooks in the water, waiting for the first bite.
I teach Sarah how to fish. We have plenty of worms, but I decide to use lures. Julia’s right. Casting and reeling is the best thing about fishing. Even better than catching fish. Plus I don’t want Sarah to see me baiting a hook. Watching me slide worms on to hooks, watching them wriggle and smear black guts on my fingers, won’t impress her one bit, so I take out a yellow and black lure instead. It’s harder to catch fish with a lure, but if we do catch one, it won’t be a kiver or a perch. It’ll probably be a bass. A bigger fish. An impressive fish.
“We’re going to use a lure that moves,” I tell Sarah. “The sun is still too low for my shiners.”
“What’s a shiner?”
I take a lure out of my tackle box. It’s silver with a metallic tail. “This is a shiner,” I say. “My favorite one.”
Sarah takes it in her hands. She turns it over.
“Shiners reflect the sun,” I explain. “They attract fish with their reflections. When the sun is low, shiners are no good. That’s the time to use movers. Movers are lures that jump around in the water. Some of them even make noise underwater. The trick is to find the right lure at the right time for the right fish.”
“So you get them with either your looks or your moves?”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “I guess. There are lures for different kinds of fish, too, and if we were fishing in the weeds, there are lures that won’t get hung up in the gunk, but we won’t worry about any of that for a while.”
“There’s a lot to know,” Sarah says.
“I never thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right. When you spend years learning something, it doesn’t look so complicated, but for someone who’s never held a rod before, it’s a lot. But looks or moves is a good way to think about it for now.”
“Sounds a lot like flirting,” Sarah says. “Like you’re flirting with the fish.”