Five

BZZT BZZT BZZT

Eddy's phone vibrated loudly on his nightstand. The first of two alarms, he found that sound wasn't usually necessary to wake him. The second, set for five minutes later, would be obnoxiously loud if he slept through the first. He didn't need the second alarm today.

Within ten minutes of the alarm's first buzz, he had showered and dressed for the day. He slipped into his dusty work boots at the back door and stepped out into the yard. He tended the livestock from largest to smallest - first the hogs and goats, then over to the coops and hutches that housed rabbits, chickens, and quail. After he was sure all the animals were fed, watered, and looked healthy, he set to collecting eggs from the chickens and quail. Eddy placed them in a picnic-style basket with a divider in the center. Chicken eggs went in one side, quail eggs in the other.

The sun had begun its ascent, turning the sky from black to grey, grey to purple, and purple lightening into blue. Looks like good fishing weather, Eddy thought. He walked back into the house, first putting the egg basket on the kitchen table, then kicking off his boots. His parents were milling around the kitchen in a groggy stupor, pouring coffee and rubbing their eyes.

"You sure got after it this morning, did you leave any work for me out there?" his father asked after he'd had his first drink of java.

"The animals are all present and accounted for, fed and watered. I didn't look in on the garden, but I'm sure you've got more than enough to do there."

His mother poured a third cup of coffee and gestured toward the egg basket. "Bring those eggs over here, we need them for breakfast. I made your coffee." She was already wearing her apron, and had butter melting in a cast iron skillet on the stove. "How does an omelet sound?"

Eddy took the basket to her and opened the lid to the chicken egg compartment. She pulled out a half dozen and set them on the counter. "Sounds delicious, thank you. If the fishing is good today I may skip lunch, so I'll need the energy." Eddy set to work emptying the rest of the eggs into cartons. When he finished, he put the cartons in the fridge and hung the basket on the coat rack.

After breakfast and some idle small talk with his parents, Eddy went to the garage to fetch his cooler. It was a rather massive chest cooler, the sort that you'd pack with drinks and food for a weekend of camping. He filled it with ice from the freezer and tossed it in the back of his pickup truck. He drove rarely; his mother would drive them to the bakery in the mornings and everything in town was within walking distance. It would be a nice change of pace to get back behind the wheel. He threw his fishing rod and tackle box into the truck bed too, checking that the worms he bought last night still looked fresh - they were.

All loaded up, he drove off just as his mother was getting in her car to go to the bakery. He waved and headed up the road going north. His destination was another of his favorite fishing spots from childhood. Cattle Creek was a small tributary that dumped into the Wise just outside of town, he and Jason used to ride their bikes there during the summer to catch and release just about every species of fish they'd ever known to live in those waters. Today he was hoping to repeat their past success, but with his sights set on bull carp specifically.

He pulled off the road into a small parking lot. This was the boat launch area people used when travelling up Cattle Creek. Much more shallow and narrow than Wise River, this stretch of water could only be used by paddle-powered craft and flat bottom boats. A sign by the boat ramp declared "NO GAS MOTORS TO BE USED IN CATTLE CREEK - DEPT. OF WILDLIFE" to hammer home the point.

He chose to set up directly at the junction of the two streams. He cast his line far, hoping to avoid snagging bottom in this shallower water. As he waited for a bite, Eddy surveyed the water. Both waterways moved slowly and gently here, but he could see upstream to a set of rocky rapids in Cattle Creek. Piles of driftwood littered the banks and provided fish cover from predators like birds, otters, or muskrats while also slowing the current of the stream. This sort of structure made ideal habitat and was an encouraging sign.

The first sign of action was a modest bite, but he wasn't able to hook the fish. He reeled in his line to cast again and found that the worm had been stripped from his hook. This happened two more times before he changed tactics and moved from using his trusty nightcrawlers to the smaller mealworms.

His new strategy paid off well. Not a minute after the ripple of his cast had settled and he had hooked something. The fish swam aggressively away from the bank at first, but it simply didn't have the strength to compete with Eddy's fishing rod. Eddy lifted the fish from the water and found himself looking at a vibrant green and purple sunfish. It was a large example of the species at nine inches long.

"It's your lucky day, little guy." said Eddy as he unhooked and returned the sunfish to the water. He planned to catch enough carp that he had no need for sunfish fillets. The fish swam off to the safety of the sunken driftwood.

The morning was less of a success than he had hoped for. Eddy only caught three bull carp and spent a lot of time throwing back sunfish. He decided to grab an early lunch and find a different place to fish. He carried the cooler and tackle box to the truck first, leaving his fishing rod wedged between the branches of a young birch tree.

He returned for his pole and was somewhat disappointed there was no fish on the line as he reeled in. He heard an unusual knocking noise from upstream, and looked to see an abandoned canoe spinning freely through the rapids.