Three

Ten minutes of absolute peace and tranquility passed. Eddy sat with his fishing rod in hand admiring the scenery - the serenity of the river, the willow's branches dancing in the light breeze, white clouds rolling slowly toward the east. Every few minutes a boat would ride by, powered either by near-silent oars or the gentle hum of and idling motor. To Eddy, these were the sights and sounds of a perfect summer day.

Suddenly all hell broke loose. The fishing rod was almost pulled out of his hand, saved only a second before it escaped his fingers. He secured his grip and lifted the rod tip - the fight was on. Line screamed off the spool as the fish swam away from the bank. Eddy reeled down on the fish, letting up periodically when he felt the fish surging away from him. They worked against each other in this way for a few minutes, but Eddy won the battle, bringing the fish to shore.

He slid down from his grassy perch above the high water mark to the pebbles and drying mud of the river's edge. Lying on its side in front of him was his prey - a healthy looking bull carp that he estimated to weigh four pounds. He pulled it out of the water with two hands and admired it for a moment. Its golden scales shimmered in the sunlight and reminded Eddy of a pirate's treasure. The black fins of the fish helped him to identify it as a bull carp, but other species of carp hadn't been seen in the Wise River for several years. He carried his catch to where the tackle box was, retrieved his stringer, and clipped the fish into it. After tying the other end around a tree stump, Eddy slid the carp back into the water. It wouldn't be able to escape the stringer, so his bounty was safe.

It took a few minutes to rig up another worm and cast out to a fishy looking spot. He realized that his hands were shaky with adrenaline and exhilaration. The thrill of catching a fish was the same as he remembered it from his last outing 10 years ago. His job worries had melted away, leaving only a smile on his face.

The box of nightcrawlers was empty three hours after he caught the first fish. He managed to bring five others to the bank in that time and was elated with his success. These catches were smaller, less vigorous examples of the species, but they were all bull carp.

Eddy realized with a bit of dread that he would have to dispatch these fish in order to collect the bounties. He'd never killed a fish himself, always leaving it to Darren's practiced hand. The process wasn't difficult - a strong blow to the head with the handle of his fillet knife would do the job, but his heart was heavy with the fear of causing unnecessary suffering. He knew these fish must be killed - as an invasive species, it would be illegal to return them to the water. The logic and legality did little to calm his nerves.

He fetched his fillet knife from the tackle box, took a calming breath, and set to work. He thumped each fish twice, to be sure the work was completed. Suddenly he recalled that Darren and Jason would always cut the gills of the fish, too. This was done after the fish was dispatched, and was said to improve the condition of the meat. With shaky hands he completed this step of the process, too.

He threw the empty bait box into the bottom of his tackle box and closed the latches. The hook was secured to a line guide halfway down the rod to prevent it from swinging around in transit. He picked up his gear - rod and tackle box in one hand, heavy stringer of carp in the other.

It was nearly closing time at Lucky's when he walked through the door for the second time that day. It seemed the commotion had died down, only two customers remained in the store. They were hotly debating the merits of different lure colors in the center aisle of the store, so Eddy walked straight to Darren at the checkout counter.

"Where should I put these?" Eddy asked, holding the stringer high.

Darren pointed back to the bait counter. "Take them to Jason, he's got the ledger. You know you only needed to bring the heads, right?"

"I knew you said there was a bounty 'per head' but I wanted to be safe. Besides, I didn't have a cooler, so it would have been difficult to juggle heads and fillets on my way back from the river."

Jason let out a low whistle when he got a look at the stringer. "Wow, looks like you owe me a beer. That's an impressive haul for just a few hours. Throw them on the counter and I'll get your payment ready."