Nobody's Fool Y'all

3

 It was a pleasant drive through the mountains and down the little dirt road that led to the place she had in mind. She parked her car. She donned Harry's old vest and waders and set off with her pole and a few flies for some relaxation and practice casting in a stream that held a special place in her heart. 

With any luck, she might even catch that fish for supper. Hopefully, Harry's old fishing hat would protect her mangled scalp from further injury. At least, she wouldn't have to worry about sunburn.

The path to the stream wound through the forest. Oaks and pines and other trees spread out before her. This was one of Harry's favorite spots. Her husband loved it here. 

Occasionally, they would picnic by the stream during the summer. Where had the years gone? Harry would always get very quiet as he gazed around these woods.

"Someday," he'd said, "I'd love to build a little cabin right here on this spot. It would be our getaway, Honey, our special place where we could come and relax. No phones. No electricity. Just you and me and the wonders of Mother Nature. The trees and the birds and the bees."

Hadley liked the part about Harry and the birds and bees. She wasn't too sure about the lack of modern conveniences, but if you looked at it like camping with a solid roof over your head, it didn't sound so bad. 

She'd be sure to press for a two-seater outhouse. That way, even in the worst of circumstances, no one would have to cool their heels and wait.

What a good confidant and friend he'd been. What a good lover. She was so lucky to have married such a kind and decent guy.

Harry inherited one hundred and fifty acres of land along this stream from an uncle shortly after they had married. This was the place where he returned, time after time when he needed to get away and renew his soul. Harry loved this piece of land, and Hadley kept it after he died.

So many of her friends had advised her to sell it.

"Use the money to go on a dream vacation," they said. "See Europe. Get a new car. Remodel your home. You'd love a new kitchen."

It was sound counsel, she was sure. And they only had her best interests at heart. But Hadley declined to act on it. She would keep this property.

Her nephew, Skip, came and mowed the path to the stream. He was good about maintaining the fence that surrounded the wooded acreage, too. 

Skip didn't know it, but he would one day own this beautiful stretch of God's country. It would be Harry and Hadley's gift to him. A nice legacy for the child she and Harry never had.

Harry had never gotten around to building his cabin, but that was okay. He had spent many happy hours in the middle of this trout stream trying to snag the elusive Big One with his hand-tied flies. 

Yes, Harry had spent many happy days in this lovely spot, but today, it was her time. The Big One had better watch out! Hadley Pell was primed and ready for trout!

The forest hugged either side of the broad meandering waterway. There were places where rocks created little falls and other places where the water pooled in deep pockets of clear, liquid stillness. The rippling water sounded like clogging shoes to Hadley. She carefully waded in.

She began casting – rod back, pause, and whip it forward in one smooth motion.

"Not half bad," she said.

She became lost in the rhythm of the repetitious motions.

Once she became comfortable with the rod and line, she decided it was time to see if she could read the water and find any fish. Her polarized sunglasses, which had also belonged to Harry, were great for cutting through the glare of the sun on the water.

Harry's voice came back to her.

"At high noon," he said, "the angle of the sun is perpendicular to the water. The glare is brutal. They are more active in the morning and evening, but the best time to spot one is at high noon."

She felt as if Harry were watching right over her shoulder.

Wading slowly to minimize rippling, she crept along, watching for flickering, elusive fish shadows. She knew that she might miss spotting a few fish because of their natural camouflage, but it was hard for them to escape casting their own shadows. 

Hadley looked left and right, scanning the water. She searched for places where the current was slow and where rocks rested in the stream bed. Up ahead, she noticed a gentle seam where two currents met to form a deep pool of still water. She saw fish rising to feed in the shadows of the overhanging trees.

"Perfect," she muttered.

She began casting her fly nearby. Back and forth. Back and forth. As her fly hit the water, a fish broke the surface and grabbed it.

"Hallelujah! Miranda Banana! Atta girl! You go!" she yelled.

Hadley had her first fish!

She began reeling it in, slowly, letting it play out some line as it fought to free itself from the hook. The fish swam to the deep end of the pool, and then, the line went slack.

"Shoot. I lost it," she said.

Hadley reeled in the loose line. Suddenly, it tightened. She jerked hard. It didn't give. Must be snagged. She did not want to break Harry's rod, so she took the line in her hand and gave it a big tug.

"What's the worst that could happen? Maybe, I'll break the line and lose the fly," she muttered.

The line seemed to break free a little, but there was still a weight pulling it down. She wound the line around her hand and pulled again. Guess that fish just snagged on a log, she thought, but I'll get him if he's still on the line.

She gave the string a steady tug.

It broke free!

The line snapped.

Eureka!

Oh, God!