Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Like a Fish Out of Water (10/24/13)
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TITLE: A Fish Tale | Previous Challenge Entry
By
10/30/13 -
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Steering his weather beaten rowboat into the shallows, he cast a line toward the shore. “The bass should be a bitin’ today,” he thought joyfully. “Sky overcast, not a ripple een’ the water, lookin’ like a perfect mirror.” On his third cast, he knew he was into something special. Tom relied solely on feel to determine if his lure was swallowed rather than the creaking sound of a set reel. Yards of line quickly disappeared into the depths. He allowed the fish to run a bit, and then set the hook. The weight on the end of the line confirmed his hopes. “Eez a big un, six maybe seven pounder!” Maintaining his rod tip upwards, he skillfully gathered in his prize.
Ole’ Tom set his index and middle fingers within the fish’s mouth, and carefully removed the hook. He keenly lifted his wriggling trophy above eye level admiring the fine specimen imitating the pose fisherman often strike when displaying their catch. “Yeah, six pounder maybe mo’.” He gently placed the fish on the boat deck. “You beautiful feller,” he remarked with true veneration, taking note of the fine blend of phosphorescent green, ecru and smatterings of brown painted on the muscular form writhing before him.
“Wait till I git you over to the bait shop and weigh ya in, the boys ill bug out over you.” Tom boasted aloud. Minutes passed. Glancing over, he could see that the big fish’s flapping had abated. Tom murmured, “Life ain’t easy for a fish out of water.” The exhausted fish valiantly struggled to once more pass life sustaining water through its sparkling gills. Tom watched the final act intently. Oddly though, something powerful inside him had taken over his soul manipulating his vision. He swore he observed a helpless plea in the fishes bulging eyeballs to spare its life. As abrupt as a coronary attack, his heart compassionately ached for the dying fish. With one swift movement of his wide hand he lifted the bass and tenderly placed it back in the water. Ole’Tom put his face in his hands and wept.
Tom was stunned yet oddly at ease and satisfied over what he had done. He had hooked and boated thousands of fish in his lifetime and without empathy let them all meet their inevitable end. Why now did he feel such pity? “Pooh, pooh little feller. He din wanna die, he was brave, never say nuttin’ and he din do nuttin’ wrong, he din deserve to die.” The words came out from his mouth, but they were formed fundamentally within his new re-born heart.
In a flash he realized that during his encounter, God had indeed renewed his heart and reclaimed his back-slidden soul! “Pooh fishy was just like The Lord Jesus, a fish outta water on dey Earth. Didn’t do nuttin’ wrong. Too beautiful for dis world. Din deserve to die neither.” Tom raised his arms as high as his shoulders allowed. “Hallelujah!! Jus like da Lord Jesus my pooh little fishy is alive!”
The last rays of a majestic sunset cast a heavenly hue across Bear Lake as ole’ Toms rowboat cut through the golden glassy surface of the water heading to the shore. “Maybe I come back here and visit sometime. But startin’ next Sunday I’ll be at Lizbeth’s side in a real church fo sure.” A few yards before reaching the shore line ole’ Tom twirled his head around. He raised his hands high once more and commenced waving. “Hallelujah, bye bye y’all.” As he began to turn his head back, barely within his sight and earshot, he was blessed to witness a bass, a very large bass hurdle and spin high above the water plane. The fish contracted its glistening body for a long moment; then with a splash neatly vanished. “Hallelujah, beautiful feller’. You not a fish outta water no more!”
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My family are all avid fishermen, for fish and souls for God's kingdom. Since my last name is Bass, it has been the subject of much jesting. My wife boasts landing the biggest bass ever, by marrying me. A 200 pounder!
I really enjoyed this tale and can't wait to read your next one.