CHAPTER 1
Daniel smiled as he leaned back in the boat. This was a great day.
He was right where he wanted to be, sitting in Grandpa Carl’s fishing boat. They were out in the middle of Lake Werner. It was Daniel’s favorite place to be.
He’d been there many times before. Every summer for almost all fifteen years of Daniel’s life, Grandpa Carl had taken Daniel fishing any time he wanted.
Just about every Saturday morning, rain or shine, Grandpa Carl would be at the door. He’d wait for Daniel to come out. They’d hop in the truck. Then they’d drive to the dock. There, Daniel would help his grandpa get the boat into the water.
They’d spend most of the morning together on the lake. They’d catch as many fish as they could.
They hardly ever ended up keeping the fish they caught, though. “It’s a lot more fun to catch ‘em than it is to eat ‘em,” Grandpa Carl would say.
Then he’d unhook a fish and send it over the side. The fish could swim back to freedom.
Daniel loved everything about fishing. He wasn’t sure what his favorite part was.
He loved feeling the tug of a fish at the end of the line. He loved putting bait on the hook. And he really loved battling with a big fish until he brought it into the boat.
The stories that Grandpa Carl told were almost as good as the real thing. And sometimes, they were better.
Grandpa’s best stories were always about two things. First, he loved to tell Daniel all about the annual Lake Werner Fishing Tournament. He also loved to tell stories about Big Larry.
Big Larry was the name Grandpa Carl had given to the biggest fish he’d ever seen in the lake. He had many stories about having Big Larry on his line. In all the stories, the fish got away just as Grandpa was about to pull him into the boat.
“That fish is about as old as I am, I guess,” Grandpa Carl always said. “We’ve had our share of battles over the years. Every time I see him, he’s a little bit bigger than before. I think he’s got me figured out now. Sometimes I see him swim up next to the boat. Seems like he’s almost trying to say hello to an old friend.”
With that, Grandpa would pull off his old fishing hat. “See this lure here?” he’d say. He would point to the lure hooked to the side of the hat.
There wasn’t anything special about the lure. It didn’t look like it was swimming in the water like some lures did, or anything like that.
It was just a small, orange, metal lure. But it was special to Daniel, because of the story that went with it.
“I used that lure the last time I hooked Big Larry,” Grandpa would say. “Now, that’s a story. Have I told you that one?”
Daniel always said no, even though he’d heard the story a thousand times. Then Grandpa Carl would start telling the story as if he’d never told it before.
Daniel didn’t care that he already knew the story. He liked hearing it anyway. He loved the happy look on his grandfather’s face as he told the story of hooking the giant fish.
“I fought him for more than an hour, and he still had fight in him,” Grandpa always said. He’d smile and describe it all to Daniel.
The story ended the same way it always did.
At the last minute, Grandpa had been about to pull Big Larry into the boat. And just before he did, the fish spit the hook out.
Grandpa would say, “And that’s when the fish hooked me, right in the cheek, just like I’d hooked him!”
Then Daniel’s grandfather would point to the scar on his cheek for proof. And Daniel, just like always, would laugh at the story. Then he’d ask his grandpa to tell him another one.