Was that a ripple? I sit up. Yes! The bobber on my line is moving. I twitch the pole slightly to get the fish to bite. That’s called setting the hook. A second later, the red ball goes under the water then pops back up. I’ve got something, all right! I get a firm grip on my pole with my left hand and start winding the reel with my right.
Joe’s ears go up.
Will stops hoovering marshmallows. He shoves Doyle. “Scab’s got a bite.”
Doyle opens his eyes. I am winding the reel like a madman. At last, the lead sinker breaks the surface. I see the top of the hook, my sister’s dragonfly barrette, a marshmallow, a slice of hot dog, a wiggly piece of shrimp . . . and . . . the sun is blinding . . . I’ve got . . .
I’ve got . . .