The Great Catch

”Cast out farther!!” I shouted to my son, as he cast his line for the first day of fishing this season. I demonstrated for him my technique, landing squarely where I’d directed the baited hook to land and set the reel. I watched as he cast over and over, sometimes hitting the mark, and occasionally catching tree branches behind us.

“It’s ok, you will get it!” I encouraged him as we continued. It was, after all, a beautiful morning. Frogs chirping, birds chatting with one another, the water lapping at our toes as we enjoyed this Saturday morning in May together while my husband was out of town working. 80 degrees in the early morning was a grand treat these days. My son was enjoying the thrill of hopefully landing a great catch. His older sister was nearby, scouring the water for anything she could find, sketching in her notebook to pass the time.

I sat in my reclined chair, enjoying the calm and the refreshment nature brings to my soul, and feeling the artistic inspiration returning. I took a sip of sweetened coffee just before my son bellowed out, “I CAUGHT SOMETHING!!!!!!” I showed him how to reel it in, excitement mounting in his frantic turning of the reel. “How big is it, Mom??” There was a big chuckle and a huge sigh of dejection when we finally brought in the catch: a tree branch with an apple hanging from it still! “Well....” I chuckled to my son, “might not be a fish, but it could still be a meal...!” He groaned as teens who think their parents are ridiculous tend to do. He baited his line once again, and lofted a beautiful cast.

My own line had been very still, so I pulled it in. The bait had been all but eaten off, likely taken by a thieving crab, just the head of the old fish remaining. No sooner had I cast than my son shouted, “I CAUGHT SOMETHING!!! For reals!!!! It’s taking my line!!! HELP!!!” I secured my own rod, and jogged over to help him. Sure enough, his line had something attached that was swimming round n round. After much maneuvering, we finally brought it close enough to scoop up with the net my daughter had grabbed for us. “WOW!!” His beaming smile grew larger when he saw the 20 inch Red drum flopping around in the bucket. “I caught a keeper!” “Yes, you did!!!” I replied proudly. We strung it up on a stringer, and continued on after all the necessary photos were taken, of course.

I sat back to enjoy more coffee and looked around. There were fishing boats out in the distance, sailboats even farther beyond. Not too far out, kayakers were trying their luck at fishing too. I moved my chair into the sun and set my toes in the water again, chuckling as I saw a sea turtle swim on past.

“OK, son... time to bring it in. We need to get going before it.....” I paused mid sentence when my rod started bouncing around. I quickly grabbed it from the holder, only to have it nearly stripped from my hand. “SON! Get over here! Help yer ma hang onto this! It’s a big one!” He ran over and helped hold on, while we struggled to reel in the big creature on the other end. I gasped as we hauled it up. It was no ordinary fish!!!! No... it was a great white shark! This being the time of pandemic and meat in short supply in the stores, I knew I could not let this slip away. I pulled my Ruger revolver from the holster at my hip, and waited till the shark was within sight again, fin showing at the surface. I fired once; my line went still. We reeled it in, excited to have meat for the freezer.

We finished of my son’s fish and set it in the bucket for the ride home. We loaded it, the shark and the rest of the gear onto the bed of the truck. We piled into the cab, all abuzz with this great catch.

After we arrived home, we brought the fishes inside for processing. I modeled how to gut a fish, and my son copied all my actions. He was very proud of his personal catch and with how good of a help he was with mine. I took the knife blade and sliced open the belly, showing the contents of her insides. I’d always taught my kiddos that we could see what the fish had eaten, because some of what they ate wasn’t digestible, building up in their tummies. This shark was no different. It’s belly was full of bobbers and lures, pieces of undigested fish, plastic bags and more. We pulled all this stuff out, along with the rest of the intestines. One plastic bag, however, seemed a bit heavy. Furrowing my brow in puzzlement, I pulled the slimy bag apart. To my amazement, inside the bag was safely nestled a little black notebook, along with some change and candy wrappers. I took the book and examined. It’s black elegant cover was closed up with an elastic band around it to keep the pages snugly contained, so the pages inside were barely wet. “What is it???” my daughter asked, as she had been observing the gutting process. Drying my hands, I gingerly opened the sleek cover. The book contained what I presumed were various passwords for different accounts, none of the accounts listed, of course. After flipping past that first page, I found various sketches that seemed vaguely familiar, and came to the middle of the book where the pages had been seemingly glued together. I gently pried the top page off, only to discover the pages beneath had a rectangle cut out, and a brown leather pouch was nestled inside.

My kids, ever curious, and always watching Mr. Beast and other YouTube giveaway videos, were SURE it had to be something fantastic! I told them it was probably just a diary or something that someone was trying to conceal, like a whistle-blower information or something. “OPEN IT!!!” the kids shouted impatiently. I untied the package and opened it , revealing a stack of cash. Breathlessly, I counted out twenty grand, counting it twice because I was certain I had miscounted. Indeed, in my hand, sat twenty thousand dollars. My heart raced. We had been saving money so we could build a building for my art studio and gallery.

I shook my head in disbelief. I opened the book back to the beginning, noticing the pocket on the inside of the front cover. I opened it up, only to discover my own art studio business card. I know I’ve given out many cards, but what were the odds? I looked at the next page, which had printed on the bottom of the page in a box, “In case of loss, return to:” text with lines following. The ink was somewhat smudged due to the moisture, but I was able to discern the writing. The directions that followed read, “If this book should venture into your hands, something obviously happened to me. Use this book to fund your dreams, because that’s what I was going to do. If you look through the pages, you will see sketches. I had planned to have an artist create this mural for me. I just ask that you support her by buying one of her works. After that, use the rest of the money for something you dream of doing.” The words swirled in my head as I swam through various possible clients had chatted with. I then flipped through the pages, studying the sketches that now suddenly meant something to me.

“What are you going to do with this, Mom?” I heard my daughter ask though my swirling thoughts.

“Well, I suppose I am going to call the police and ask if anyone has lost any large amounts of cash,” I replied calmly, as I picked up the phone.

“But, Mom! What if someone claims they lost it?” my son asked fearfully.

“Then, so be it. If I lost 20 grand, I’d be awfully upset if it was lost and kept by someone else.” He sighed and walked to his room, telling his sister how stupid I was, being a typical teen child. I dialed the local police station, where I spoke to the appropriate person, who would call me back after asking around.

In the meantime, a quick internet search revealed that someone had recently died in a boating accident, but the person was never found. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or fearful, because that could mean the previous owner would return. I looked again at the sketches, and a faint memory came to mind of a marine biologist who had wanted an underwater mural painted on his building, depicting sea life that needed to be protected. I could not recall the name, but I was in shock of such a strange coincidence. Soon enough, the police department called back, stating that if no one claimed it in three days, as there’s been no missing money of such a large amount reported, then it would be mine to keep, and that I was to bring it to the police station. Heavy hearted, I took the book and its contents to the station. After taking photos of the once upon a time that I had held twenty thousand dollars, I handed it over. Waiting three whole days was going to be agonizing.

Three days later, the police station called. A couple of people had called in, claiming they’d lost large sums of money. However, no description matched what this money was found in, and so to my great delight, I was allowed to keep it!!! We sped home. I put together all the savings I had, and bought one of the properties I had been eyeing… a fixer upper in the country with 5 acres… enough to start a small farm, and have my own art studio again. There was already a separate building on the property I had decided would be my studio after it was renovated. Of course I was also going to paint the mural that was sketched in that little black notebook. I was ecstatic. So chuffed in fact, that I had forgotten to tell my husband of this grand adventure while he was away! He returned the next day.

“Honey! I bought a farm! Oh, and a studio! Oh, and it has a garage!” I gushed, as he walked in through the door. “Excuse me?”he retorted, disbelieving. I regaled the story to him of the past few days. Utter amazement crossed his face. “Well, it’s near that town you like so well, so you can bring the boat to the dock that’s five miles away, and you can get the job at that new dealership down there. It’s perfect!”

And so it was that my dream came true because of that never-forgotten great catch!