Shared Casts

As a golden hue spread across the sky and glinted off the lake, a mist hovered over its surface. It lingered there as if the water were releasing a frosted breath. Along the shore, pine trees reached toward the clouds, hemming in the thinning haze. Two men emerged from the treeline before a rickety dock, worn by generations of use. The old pier stretched out like a patient man’s crooked finger.

The taller figure grinned as he pointed at the fishing pole resting on the dock’s railing with his own. “Is it normal for you to leave your rod out like that?”

A soft chuckle slipped out from the smaller fellow as he turned and poked his friend’s chest. “Marcus, considering I left it here to meet you about twenty minutes ago, it wasn’t an issue.”

“Touche,” Marcus said, “though why’d you come pick me up?”

“You caught me between casts.” Daniel grabbed his resting fishing pole and tapped the nearby open tackle box with his foot. The hooks glinted in the morning light. He placed the bucket beside the equipment. “I also needed to resupply my bait.”

“Why would you need to replace it?” Marcus peered at Daniel’s empty chair as he licked his lips. “By the looks of your spot, you haven’t had much luck.”

“Nope, been catching and releasing today.” Daniel pulled a fresh worm from the pail and prepared for his next cast.

“Too bad.” Marcus drew in a silent breath as he stared at his baited hook. “Have you ever noticed how worms always look offended, despite being faceless?”

Daniel took his seat and readied his line. When he finished, he rested the pole on his lap as he turned toward his friend. “That’s not a topic conducive to deep thought.”

“Why?”

Daniel gestured at his baited hook and leaned closer to Marcus. “I’m pretty sure you’d be upset if a stranger stuck a piece of sharpened metal through you.”

With a wry laugh, Marcus nodded as he laid his rod on a shoulder. He shook his head as he finished preparing his pole. He dropped into the spare seat and cast with a smooth flick of the wrist. The lure landed with a quiet plop, and ripples spread outward. He turned toward Daniel as he reclaimed the slack in his line. “Have you just been catching runts all morning?”

“Does it matter if I haven’t claimed a single fish?”

“What’s the point of fishing if you don’t?”

Daniel shook his head as the lines sat in the lake. Before long, silence settled between their chairs as they waited for the fish to test their hooks. In between silent moments, somewhere across the water, a lone bird called once before disappearing into the thinning morning air.

Marcus reeled in his line, frowned at the empty hook, and cast again.

Daniel watched his bobber as his fingers rested on the line. “Do you remember the first time you joined me on this dock?”

A soft chuckle escaped Marcus’s lips as he reclaimed the slack. “Are you referring to when you insisted that fishing requires absolute silence?”

“You’re misinterpreting what I said.”

Marcus’s head turned toward his friend as his eyes widened. “You shushed me every minute for at least half an hour.”

Daniel released an exasperated breath as he sank into his chair. “It’s not difficult to frighten fish. And you were doing your best to keep them away from our hooks.”

“You dropped your open thermos of coffee into the water less than ten minutes later.”

Daniel rubbed his face as he drew in a lungful of the crisp air. “That was an accident.”

More laughter rang out as Marcus rested a foot on his knee. “If that’s true, why did you dive in after it?”

“It was a good one.” Daniel’s shoulders hunched over his chest as he pressed his lips together. “You’ve never reacted like that after losing something you cared about?”

Marcus’s laughter intensified as the sound rolled out across the lakeside. “When you climbed out, you were covered in algae with water dripping off you.”

“That’s what happens when you dive into a lake.”

Marcus shook his head as he reeled in his line. “How does screaming that the trip was successful mesh with the idea that fish prefer silence?”

With a harrumph, Daniel retrieved his line and recast it. When the lure vanished beneath the rippling waters, he turned to Marcus and clicked his tongue. “We caught a couple fish that day.”

“Not quite,” Marcus said, with a twitching finger. “If I remember right, they were yours. All I got was a tree branch.”

Daniel smirked as laughter bubbled up. “Don’t feel too bad. That fallen limb fought harder than my bites, and I honestly can’t recall ever seeing anything put up much of a battle since.”

Marcus tilted his head toward the water. “I’m still convinced my empty hook snagged it after the lucky fish gave up.”

Another stillness settled between them. When Daniel reeled his line back in, he turned toward his friend and grinned. “Moments like those are the point. The fish are only the excuse.”

After a moment of consideration, Marcus retrieved his lure and turned toward Daniel. “You know, we’ve been doing this for what, twenty years now?”

Daniel nodded as he cast into the deeper part of the lake. “Closer to twenty-five. But who’s counting?”

“That’s a lot of mornings.”

“True, yet it’s never enough.”

“Well,” Marcus said, clearing his throat, “we’d better catch something today.”

“Why?”

Marcus gestured at the empty bucket between them. “If I go home without anything of value again, my wife’s going to ask what we do out here.”

Daniel laughed as he gripped his pole. “We sit on a dock and solve the world’s problems, one cast at a time.”

“What about the fish?”

Daniel glanced at the still water stretching toward the far shore through the vanishing mist. “They get to listen and field test our solutions.”