Sneaky Snake...

[Terry Beeson]

An oldie for some, but a goodie...

SNEAKY SNAKE

We met at the launch point at 7:00 pm. Melvin and I had been talking about doing some night fishing for a while now, and this was the perfect opportunity to get our fix. Bass in the late evening just before and after sunset were known to be ready to feast on most anything that swam by. And by the looks of the swirling water around the edges of the lake, we were not going to be disappointed.

Melvin and I made a perfect pair when it came to fishing. We both loved to fish. I didn’t have a boat, but there was a large watershed lake on my farm. Melvin had a boat, but the property he owned was only large enough for a small water fountain. I had the fishing spot, Melvin had the boat. It was a perfect combination.

The lake was located about halfway between his house and mine. We each made the four mile trek knowing the conditions were perfect for our planned outing.

I had met Melvin at work. He worked in the stockroom, I worked in the office. One of the supervisor’s and I had been talking about playing music and came up with a plan to start a garage band. He had played in another band a few years before and Melvin was the drummer. One thing led to another and soon we were playing the clubs and festivals within a 100 mile radius of home.

It had been two years since the breakup of the band, and we had remained close friends. Melvin and I spent most of the time we were together talking about the “adventures” we had during our music days. Stories about drunks, rednecks, fights, pretty women, ugly women, and on-stage screw ups kept us laughing for hours. We missed it, but, at the same time, didn’t miss it at all.

Moving around the edge of the lake, what we had hoped for and predicted came true. Almost every other cast resulted in a Largemouth devouring my top water or his crank bait. We trolled along the west bank until the sun began to set behind Cotton Ridge then moved to the other side of the 45 acre lake at dusk.

After a full day of work, rushing to get home and to the fishing spot, and a couple more hours of hot Bass action, I began to run out of steam when the bite began to wane. Even though it was dark and late, Melvin was the type who always wanted “just one more cast” before heading home. That always led to one more, then another, then another, and so on. I knew before I came that it would be difficult to get Melvin to load the boat and head home.

My back began to ache so I decided to move down and almost lie on the floor of the boat. Melvin was standing, fishing from the right side of the boat, casting towards the creek channel that was lined with some large oak stumps. I was reclining on the left side feeling like a bored kid just making time until Melvin was ready to go. I flipped my bait out half-heartedly and slowly cranked it in not paying much attention to where I was casting or what I was doing.

The sound of something breaking the surface caught my attention and, in the moonlight, I saw the ripples expanding from the point where a nice size fish had, most likely, taken a bug from the water’s surface just a few feet less than a good cast and directly behind the boat. I put a little more effort in my cast this time, plopping the top water just about six feet beyond the point where the fish had surfaced.

Meanwhile, Melvin had decided to try fishing towards the bank. He whirled himself around, barely noticing me almost prone in the bottom of the 17 foot bass rig. Casting a few feet from the bank, Melvin began to work his crank bait back to the boat in hopes of one more strike. He didn’t even notice my line coming out of the water just to his left and up to my rod tip.

I had lost interest in my attempts since the bait on the end of my line had come through the ripples and was halfway back to the boat. I slowed my cranking down to barely a crawl, watching Melvin staring intently at his bait coming towards him. Boredom was setting in again for me as my eyes started to drift closed.

Suddenly, Melvin’s head jerked to the right. Since he was staring in the opposite direction, I couldn’t tell what he had seen. He looked back to his line then jerked his head back again as if he’d seen a snake! Sure enough, I noticed he was staring and following my top water bait slowly swimming towards the boat. He HAD, in his mind, seen a snake. And it was headed for the boat!

I quietly began to perk up. A grin crossed my face as I watched Melvin’s head pop back and forth. Straight ahead and then to the right. Trying hard to keep one eye on his bait and one on the “snake” headed straight for him! I worked the bait slowly but steadily in his direction. He hadn’t noticed me yet. His attention was focused on his line and the swimming wake now just a few feet from the boat.

Melvin’s bait came up out of the water as he reeled faster to get it to the tip as quickly as he could. Now his attention could be focused fully on his nemesis. It was all I could do to hold back my hilarity. I knew what was coming next, and I couldn’t wait to watch.

Sure enough, Melvin raised his seven foot bass rig high in the air with both hands. Coming down with the force of a jack hammer, he slapped the surface of the water with the treble hooks of the crank bait aimed at the “snake.” I stopped cranking to watch. He slapped at the creature several more times before I let out a burst of laughter heard all over the lake and the hollow it was located in.

Finally, Melvin looked at my rod tip and where the line was leading. His intensity and desperation suddenly turned to a snicker and then a laugh. After accusing me of several unspeakable acts and calling me a few names, none of which can be repeated in public, Melvin cranked up the 75 horse motor and headed for the launch and our trucks.

It was almost impossible for me to help him load the boat and gear as my laughter continued amid his moaning and rambling about my status in the world. I had to work on gaining my composure for several minutes before I was able to see through the tears of laughter well enough to drive home.