Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Something Fishy’s Going On

Lydia awoke with a start the next morning, just before her alarm was set to go off. She stretched, hopped off the bed, and moseyed over to the pile of clothes they had bought the previous day. The colors seemed so dull compared to yesterday. Just as she began to wonder if she’d somehow found the wrong pile of clothes, she remembered–she forgot to turn on the lights!

After turning a lamp on, she noted that she’d have to remember about her enhanced dark vision in the future, then dug through the pile. She looked for jeans before remembering, they hadn’t bought any because of her tail. She’d have to ask her mother to order some in the future. For now, she put on a pair of leggings and a long, blue skirt. She found an extra comfy red turtleneck, and shimmied that on as well, struggling a bit with the long neck as she pulled it over her ears.

She went to the bathroom and fixed her hair, brushing it out carefully, catching a few snags along the way but nevertheless triumphing over her bedhead. As she examined her reflection in the mirror, she wondered, would it be cute to wear some eyeliner and mascara? Her mother had always prided herself on ‘natural beauty’ and wore no such things, so maybe she could ask Alexis?

It was then that she realized she hadn’t heard from Alexis in a few days. That was unusual, especially after everything that had happened. Maybe she could ask dad to check in on her? It would be unusual, given that she was grounded, but just asking about her wouldn’t be a big deal, she hoped. She checked the time, just before 6 AM, the time to go. Her father was probably upstairs with the tacklebox and rods.

She rushed upstairs to greet him, and found him drinking his morning joe, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. She hopped over to the fridge and grabbed a granola bar. It would be a long day, and neither of them were terribly good at fishing, so even though her father would bring a bunsen burner and small pan, it wasn’t likely they’d have lunch. Her father cracked his back, then turned to look at her.

“Isn’t that a bit delicate for a fishing outfit?” he asked.

“None of my jeans fit anymore, and they had nothing with tail holes,” she replied, munching on the granola, trying to lean forward over the table so as not to get crumbs on her turtleneck.

Her father nodded and sighed, checking his phone for the weather before gesturing that it was time to get going. Strangely, he got in the passenger seat.

“You want me to drive?” she asked.

“Well, you’ll have to learn to drive on dirt sometime,” he replied, “and you won’t teach yourself.”

“I look nothing like my license picture, is all,” she muttered.

He stared at her for a few seconds, pondering. Then he shook his head. “There won’t be any cops on those roads, and if you do by some miracle crash, I’ll say I was driving,” he replied.

She beamed and nodded, “Okay then! Thanks dad!”

As she got in the truck, she noticed she had to adjust the seat forwards all the way, and even then, her feet were still a little on the short side for the pedals. It would have to do, especially since her father had already started napping in the passenger side. She turned on the headlights and started driving out to their fishing hole.

About twenty minutes later, with the sky just barely turning to a murky violet, she pulled into their spot just off the road, and her father rustled away, groaning as he reached over to the back and pulled out the supplies. Normally, Lydia would be carrying all the equipment, but her father probably assumed after the bag incident yesterday that she wasn’t much capable of it.

They walked a ways down, finding the tree stump they usually sat on, and laying down a blanket for sitting. They added the worms to the line, Lydia finding it much easier than normal with her more dexterous fingers. Lydia cast her line out far, then reeled it in a little, content to let it sit for a bit until the river pulled it a ways. The river they fished on was slow-moving and calm, and her father said eventually, it fed into the Missouri. Once, she’d thought about kayaking down it a ways, but now that seemed positively exhausting. She’d have to work to regain that much muscle.

Her father wasn’t much in the mood for talking this time of morning, so she simply waited for her line to drag down the river, then reeled it in again. She got a few bites the first hour and a half, but nothing quite snagged. It was a little after sunrise, the sun barely peeking over the trees, when she got her first tug on the line. She tried to reel it in, but found it surprisingly difficult. She wasn’t sure if it was a big fish, or she was just that much smaller, or both.

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She stood up to try and get a better anchored position, when it yanked hard. She nearly tumbled in, but she felt arms wrap around her waist. She looked to her side to see her father securing her, nodding to the river as if to say, “Go on, reel it in.”

She tugged and released and tugged and released until, finally, an enormous trout came up out of the water, flapping wildly. She tried to lower it into the bucket, but quickly realized, their bucket wasn’t going to fit it. Her arms quickly tiring, she opted to toss it onto land.

“Good job, bud!” her dad said, cheering.

Her father held it down with his hand as Lydia fished a tape measure out of the box. The three foot tape measure just barely clocked it in properly.

“Thirty five and a half!” she chirped.

“Wow,” he said, “I think that’s bigger than I’ve ever caught. Why, I think I haven’t caught one that big since I was your age! We’ll have to tell your…”

“Tell who, dad?” she asked, worried at him suddenly trailing off.

“Nothing,” he replied gruffly, “let’s get going so we can clean this up at home. The pan ain’t gonna fit it anyways.”

Her father spat in the dirt, then climbed in the driver’s side, awkwardly readjusting the seat as far back as it could go, motioning for her to get in. She decided she didn’t want to upset him any more, and so she elected to remain silent for the duration of the drive, the trout occasionally making flapping noises on the floor mat next to her, before finally going still.

At home, Lydia’s mother was already awake and making her coffee, smiling at them as Lydia carried in the trout, just barely able to handle it.

“Wow!” Diane exclaimed, “that’s a big one! It’s nearly as big as you, honey!”

Lydia giggled, set down the fish, and hugged her mom, hardly noticing as her father stomped up the stairs, closing the door behind him. When Lydia did turn around to look to ask her father when they were going to clean it, he was already gone.

“He’s having one of his moments, Lydia,” her mother said soothingly, “you know how men can be. How about we put this in the freezer? We can clear some of the peas out into the fridge to make room, and have them for supper tonight…and maybe tomorrow night, if we need more space.”

Lydia nodded and smiled gently, picking the bags of peas out of the freezer as her mother positioned the trout awkwardly in the middle, shutting the door suddenly in order to not have it fall out. That was a problem for the next time someone wanted ice cream!

Her mother went to sit on the couch, and Lydia followed, curling up on her lap. She hadn’t realized how much she missed being small enough to snuggle her mom on their couch. As she got comfy sprawled across her mother’s lap, grabbing a blanket, she felt her mother’s fingers petting the top of her ears. She began to purr as she slowly fell into a light sleep. Just a nap couldn’t hurt, after all.

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