Pirate Matt

The hum of the motor soothed Matt as he directed the skiff to his fishing spot. It was out of their protected bay, out past Hoonah. There were some islands that looked interesting. Just a little cluster with not much going for them. But they provided shelter from the waves from the ocean. The water was like glass. A sure fishing spot.

It was unfortunate that he had to go out at all. But a bear had raided their camp the night before. It had taken all the meat. Every last piece. And with most of the family out on a hauling job, it was up to him to bring back food. Noah was completely inept at that sort of thing.

Matt would have chosen to go on a deer hunt, but again... Noah wasn't a good hunter. He wasn't even good backup for that kind of thing. He'd rather pull out a gadget as defense against a bear than a gun.

So fishing was the easiest way to go. Especially since Matt had injured his eye again. But this time he had a real eyepatch. But his eyes were now prone to watering when he looked at anything too long. The nurse practitioner said that wasn't unusual.

He squinted out at the horizon as he motored along. Past Hoonah and north out of the straight. But he stuck to the coastline of the island.

"Ah-ha!" he said as he spotted the small cluster of islands a little while later. He checked his watch and nodded. An hour and a half by skiff. Not bad. He chuckled and killed the motor.

Matt took his time setting up the fishing poles. Attaching three of them to the sides of the skiff, he was prepared for a good day of fishing. He took up the fourth and sat back to wait.

It was a warm day, so he took off his borrowed shirt and stuffed it into his backpack. It was one of Noah's puffy white poet shirts with the lacing up the front. One of the ones that Noah was always teased about. But he had handed it over with an evil glint in his eye.

Matt, it seemed, had run out of clean clothes. But his mom had promised to do his laundry while he was gone.

"I've got to do mine and your father's things, too," she had said before Matt had set out on his fishing trip.

"Make sure Noah helps you," Matt said. "He spends too much time puttering around in his tent."

"I agree," Ami had said and smiled. "But he doesn't see it that way."

"I'll see you later," Matt said and chuckled as he gave his mother a peck on the cheek.

"Be careful," she bid to his back. "Don't forget to buckle some swashes."

Matt threw his head back and laughed at his mom's pirate joke. He turned to face her and walked backward. "How much does a pirate pay for corn?" he asked her.

"I don't know, what?" she called across the distance.

"A buck-an-ear!" he said. Ami laughed and shooed him on. He waved.

"More!" she called and Matt returned it.

Matt had lost track of time. He was completely focused on bringing in as much fish as he could. He'd caught a good amount already, but didn't feel like it was good enough and was prepared to stay a while longer.

But the sky grew dark. He looked up. It was a sudden storm. He didn't like the looks of it. But he couldn't outrun it now.

Quickly, he pulled in his lines, pulling in a surprise final fish. He tossed it in the blue cooler and turned to start the motor. He could at least try to shelter on one of the islands.

When he pulled the cord, nothing happened. "What?!" he asked the motor and tried again. Nothing. "Damn it!" He slapped the silly thing on the top of the casing.