Page 21 of Unspoken Words
“Please. I want to learn.”
“You want to learn how to bait a hook?”
She cringed and tried to hide her distaste by over-smiling and over-nodding. “Uh huh.”
“You want to learn how to cast a line, hook a fish, reel it in, and unhook it?” I took a step toward her. “That involves touching the actual fish.”
“I know,” she said, continuing to smile, except now her teeth were clenched.
I laughed like Mr Burns from The Simpsons and handed her the rod. “Okay, but first things first, we need to bait your hook. And we need to do itquietly.”
“Can’t you do that bit and I’ll watch?”
“No.”
She whined. “Okay, but if I’m really going to put my life on the line to do this, you have to answer some questions.”
“Your life is hardly on the line, Ellie.”
“Sure it is. What if I get that hook stuck in my finger?”
“Then you’ll get the hook stuck in your finger and I’ll help get it out.”
“But … but what if I—”
I handed her the container of worms. “Find me a big, fat, juicy one.”
The panic on her face was real—eyes wide, cheeks rosy—and a small part of me felt guilty for putting it there. But it was so funny, and I really wanted to see how far she would go to prove a point. I wanted to know exactly how stubborn she was, how strong and determined. I wanted to see if there was more to Eloise Mitchell than the girly clothes, books, and notebook.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I held my breath as she lowered her trembling hand toward the container, her fingers pinched as she secured a worm between them.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeew. Now what do I do?” she wailed, jumping up and down on the spot, the worm dangling from her fingers.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You thread it onto this hook,” I instructed while handing it to her.
She tried twirling the worm around the sharp, silver prong. “It won’t stay. Why won’t it stay?”
The worm wiggled loose and fell to the ground. Ellie screamed and jumped back.
I continued to laugh. “Because you have tohookit.”
Her eyes widened. “Hook it?”
I nodded.
“You mean stab it and kill it?”
I nodded again.
“NO!” She took another step back and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s so mean. Uh ah. No way. I’m not doing that.”
“Why not? It’s gonna die and be eaten anyway.”
“I know, but the fish will be the murderer, not me.”
“What?” I shook my head and laughed some more, confused by her logic. “But you murder the fish in the process, so you’ll be a murderer as well.”
She stared at me, her eyelids barely apart, her lips pressed before a sly smile spread across her face. “I like it when you laugh, Connor.”
