The Fishing Trip - Jessica

“Grandpa, hurry up!” called 7-year-old Frilla over her shoulder as she joyfully skipped down Turrett Road. Frilla and her grandpa were going fishing at Lake Mariah over Spring Break, and she was practically jumping with excitement. Grandpa Lanen walked quickly up to his granddaughter and put his arm around her shoulder to calm her down, but it didn’t do much good.

“Can you believe it? My very first fishing trip! I can’t wait to catch a fish!” she exulted.

“Frilla, remember, you must be patient to catch a fish. It is not all fun and games, you know. If you are jiggling and wiggling as you are now, all the fish will be scared away,” Grandpa warned for about the hundredth time.

Frilla stopped jumping and walked solemnly and silently next to her grandfather, but in less than three seconds she erupted in giggles again, “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun!”

Finally they reached Lake Mariah’s dock. A brown wooden dinghy sat in the water, tied up to the dock by a thick red and blue striped rope.

“Here it is,” Grandpa announced, “The Peacemaker.” Frilla leaped into it and it rocked precariously from side to side. She quickly jumped out again, biting her nails nervously.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes, I am sure,” Grandpa Lanen chuckled at her foolishness of jumping, not stepping, into the boat. He stopped the boat with one hand and helped Frilla into it with the other. He laid the rods and bait in the bottom of it, stepped in, picked up the oars, and cast off into the sparkling blue waters of the lake. He paddled around for a bit, looking for a quiet place to fish, while Frilla peered eagerly over the side of the boat for fish, nervousness forgotten.