by Judy Delton
Mrs. Peters held up an orange vest with ties down the front.
“Mrs. Peters?” called Ashley, her hand waving. “We have a boat. We could all use that and we wouldn’t have to rent one.”
“Your boat is in California,” said Kenny.
“What good would it do us there?”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Ashley, sitting down.
After everyone looked at the vest and tried it on, Mrs. Peters talked about boat behavior and fishing poles and rods and reels.
“And we all must wear hats for the sun,” she said. “It can get hot out on the lake, even in spring.”
“What about food?” asked Sonny. “I don’t want to starve to death out on that lake.”
Now the Pee Wees frowned.
“What if the engine conks out and we’re shipwrecked on a desert island?” asked Tracy.
“Hey, you’d have to eat plants and ants and stuff,” said Roger.
“I’m allergic to plants,” said Tracy.
“What if there is a storm and the boat tips over?” yelled Tim.
“Or we lose the anchor and drift too far out?” said Patty.
“We could camp out and live like Gilligan,” said Kevin. “Or Robinson Crusoe.”
Suddenly the fun fishing trip was turning into a dangerous adventure, thought Molly.
“Nothing like that will happen,” said Mrs. Peters. “The lake is not like the ocean, you know. We will have picnic hampers full of food. And cold drinks in the cooler. There will be a man to run the boat who knows all about it. There will be safety rafts just in case.”
“In case of what?” cried Sonny. “I don’t want to be on a raft with all those sharks with the sharp teeth.”
Sonny’s face got red, and he looked as if he were going to cry.
“There are no sharks!” said Mrs. Peters firmly.
Roger was under the table, pretending to be a shark, nipping at knees, and pinching Sonny. “Grrrr,” he said.
“Sharks don’t growl,” said Jody, laughing, and he grabbed Roger’s head.
“We will make a trip to the bait store to learn about fishing poles and hooks and lines and sinkers,” said Mrs. Peters.
“I have my own bobbers and sinkers,” said Jody. “From last summer when I went with my uncle.”
“Mrs. Peters, are we going to fly-fish?” asked Rachel. “My grandpa does that.”
“Who wants to fish for flies?” asked Tim.
“You can catch flies in a jar, or hit them with a flyswatter.”
Mrs. Peters explained that fly-fishing was not catching flies.
“We are just going to drop our line in the lake with bait on it, and a sinker and bobber,” she said. “A bobber floats on the water, and when it goes down, a fish is on the line and you pull it in.”
“I can cast,” said Roger. He ran around the room, casting with a make-believe rod and reel.
“I had a cast on my leg once,” said Mary Beth. “I hope it’s not that kind of a cast.”
“I went to a cast party when I was in Cinderella!” said Tracy.
“We are not casting,” said Mrs. Peters, frowning at Roger. “Casting is when you throw the line away from the shore, and it is done mostly in rivers.”
“Who’s going to take the fish off the hook?” asked Patty.
“I am sure your dads will do that, and show you how, too,” she said.
Mrs. Peters held up a book with a picture of a lady taking the hook out of a fish’s mouth.
“You back the hook up so that the prongs slide out,” said Mrs. Peters. She had a real hook in her hand to show them.
“Doesn’t that hurt the fish?” cried Molly.
“A little,” said their leader. “But fish have few nerves in their body.”
Molly could not believe that it didn’t hurt the fish a lot. Mrs. Stone was passing out cookies, but Molly didn’t take any.
After the meeting, the Pee Wees stopped at the park and sat on a bench in the sun.
“That’s lipstick Ashley has on, I know it is,” said Mary Beth. “My mom wouldn’t let me wear that stuff, especially to Scouts.”
“She looks like she’s in fifth grade or something,” agreed Tracy.
“I’m not going to catch my fish with a hook,” said Molly.
The Pee Wees looked at her.
“How are you going to catch it?” asked Mary Beth.
“I don’t know yet,” said Molly. “But I know a hook must hurt the fish’s mouth.”
“Naw,” said Roger. “Fish don’t feel anything.”
“How would you like it if someone caught you on a hook, Roger White?” said Rachel. “Would you like a hook in your mouth?”
“I’m not a fish!” said Roger.
“Well, Mrs. Peters said we don’t have to catch a fish to get the badge,” said Mary Beth. “You can draw a fish or read about a fish instead.”
“I don’t want to read about them or draw them!” said Molly. “I want to go on the trip and fish with everyone else. I just don’t want to hurt the fish.”
Molly sighed. Father’s Day wasn’t even here yet, and already she had a problem. Was she the only one who worried about a fish’s health? Would she be the only one at home reading and drawing instead of fishing on the lake?
CHAPTER
4
No Hook for Molly
On Wednesday there was a special meeting of the Pee Wees so that they could take a tour of the bait store. When they went in, they saw tanks and tanks of small fish swimming around and through green weeds.
“Hey, we could catch these fish with a little net!” shouted Sonny.
“But they are too small to fry, aren’t they, Mrs. Peters?” asked Mary Beth.
“These fish are minnows,” said their leader. “They are the bait we use to get bigger fish.”
The Pee Wees leaned over the tanks and watched them swim. The man who owned the shop picked one up and put it on a hook. Then he dropped the hook in the water.
“When a big fish comes along, he grabs the minnow in his mouth and gets hooked. Then you pull him up and have him for dinner!” he said.
To catch a fish, you had to hurt two fishes instead of one, thought Molly. Now she definitely did not want to catch a fish with a hook. There had to be another way—a nicer way to catch a fish.
The man walked over to the counter where there were little plastic containers of worms. They looked like the containers in Molly’s refrigerator that held cottage cheese or leftover spaghetti.
“You just slide the worm on the hook like this,” he said, demonstrating for the Pee Wees.
Molly quivered. This wasn’t getting any better.
“Let me do it!” shouted Roger.
All the boys wanted to bait hooks. Even Rachel and Tracy and Lisa wanted to. No one in this group was going to draw or read instead of fish.
“Ouch!” cried Sonny. “That worm bit me!”
“Worms don’t bite, dummy.” Roger laughed.
But Sonny was crying and holding up his finger. It did have a red mark on it. His mother took a Band-Aid out of her purse and put it on his finger.
“The hook probably stuck him,” said Rachel.
Mr. Olson, the owner, showed the Pee Wees tackle boxes and fishing line and bobbers and sinkers. He showed them fishing hats and lunch boxes and rubber rafts and safety jackets. There were pillows to put on the boat seats and nets to land big fish in, and even some boats and oars for sale.
“We don’t need most of these things,” said Mrs. Stone. “And we already have most of what we need.”
Even so, Lisa bought a fishing hat that said THE BIG ONE GOT AWAY.
Ashley bought a straw basket called a “creel” to keep her fish in.
And Mrs. Peters bought a minnow pail.
“We’ll get the minnows and worms on Sunday morning,” she said.
Mr. Olson talked about fishing safety and water pollution.
“Don’t throw any litter into a lake,” he said.
; “And be sure no oil leaks from your motor into the water.”
“We better check that guy’s motor,” said Kenny. “What if we pollute?”
“We will leave that up to the owner of the boat,” said Mrs. Peters. “He or she will not want us checking the motor.”
“The best fishing is in the early morning around five o’clock, when the fish are hungry,” Mr. Olson went on. “And then at suppertime.”
“Do the fish eat meals at the same time we do, Mr. Olson?” asked Tim.
Everyone laughed.
“Well, they get hungry when they wake up, just like you. And by evening they are hungry again after all that swimming.”
Molly wrote that down in the notebook she was carrying with her. She had an idea. An idea of how to keep the fish from getting hurt.
But how could she catch a fish without a hook? Would she have to get her badge the boring way and miss the fishing trip?
No one else seemed to mind those sharp hooks. She decided not to tell anyone her plan right now. They wouldn’t understand, and they would all laugh at her.
Now all the Pee Wees were lined up in front of lures.
“These lures are artificial bait,” said Mr. Olson. He held one up. It was red and blue and green and purple. It was bright and flashy and had feathers on it, and metal disks that shone in the light.
“The sun catches these and it attracts the fish,” he said. “They swim toward it and get themselves hooked.”
All the lures were in a glass case. Each one was in a little box. They all had lots of hooks hidden in their feathers, not just one. And they were big hooks.
“I want one of those!” shouted Roger. “I can catch a giant fish with that.”
“They are used for trolling,” said Mr. Olson.
“What’s trolling?” whispered Mary Beth to Molly.
“I’ll bet you put one of those troll dolls on your line along with the lure,” said Tracy. “I’ve got one with red hair. I can bring it.”
“I think you are better off with live bait in our lakes,” said Mr. Olson. “But some people do make their own lures. Smaller ones than these. I have some things here to make your own artificial bait.” He moved to another counter.
Some of the Pee Wees bought little feathers and sequins to make their own lures.
But Molly did not want to make artificial bait.
She wanted to make an artificial FISH!
If only she could make a fish that looked real enough so that she could get her badge without using a hook. But Mrs. Peters would know the difference between a real fish and one Molly made out of clay or cardboard. Mrs. Peters was smart. She wasn’t Scout leader for nothing.
No, Molly would have to think of another way. What in the world would it be?
CHAPTER
5
Fish Food
“Well, it won’t be long now,” said Mr. Duff at breakfast the next morning. “I’ve got my tackle ready to go.”
Rat’s knees. Now would be the time for Molly to tell her dad her worry, she thought. But if she did, it might ruin Father’s Day. It was no fun to have someone along on a fishing trip who did not want to catch a fish.
It seemed to Molly that her father should be more sensitive. He wouldn’t let her hurt little Skippy. Why, he didn’t even step on ants when he walked! Why didn’t he care about fish?
But she just said, “Good!” to her dad.
Then she excused herself to go to Mary Beth’s.
Mr. Kelly was going out the door to work when she got there.
“So the big day is coming up!” he said to Molly. “I got a new rod and reel for my birthday I’m dying to use!”
“Good,” said Molly. It was the second time already this morning she had said “good” when she meant “bad.”
The girls rode their bikes around the park. Roger was there, digging in the dirt.
“You aren’t supposed to dig in the park,” said Mary Beth.
“I’m digging my own worms. My dad says we can save money bringing our own bait.”
“I’m not going to use bait,” Molly confided to Mary Beth when they got back home.
“Fish won’t bite on a bare hook,” Mary Beth said.
“I’m not going to use a hook,” said Molly.
Mary Beth stared at her. “Well, no fish is going to jump out of the water into your lap!” she said.
“I might buy my fish,” said Molly.
“That’s not fair!” said Mary Beth. “That won’t count.”
“No one will know,” said Molly. “I’ll bring it along and tie it on my line.”
Buying a fish would solve the whole hook problem. She would fish without a hook, and then when no one was looking she would pull her line up and pretend the store fish was the one she caught! She couldn’t buy it yet because fish need refrigeration. And if she put it in the refrigerator at home, her mother would ask questions.
Molly went home and counted her money. She put all the money from her piggy bank into her purse.
The day before the fishing trip, Molly went to the grocery store. She went to the meat section. She looked at rows and rows of pork chops. And rows and rows of hamburger and steaks. A whole case was full of chickens. Finally she saw the fish.
But they all had their heads cut off! If she caught a fish with no head, Mrs. Peters and her dad would be suspicious.
Then she saw some fish with their heads on. They were on a bed of ice in a special case. They had a body that looked scaly, or like a shell. They even had tails. The sign said FRESH JUMBO SHRIMP.
“I’ll have one of those, please,” said Molly.
“Just one?” asked the butcher, with a smile. “Do you want some seafood dip to go with it?”
“No, thank you,” said Molly. “I’m not going to eat it. I’m going to catch it.”
The butcher looked surprised, but he didn’t ask any more questions. He wrapped the shrimp in some white paper and wrote “$1.05” on it and handed it to Molly. Molly had a little money left over, so she stopped in the bakery department and bought a big bag of donuts. She had another idea.
Molly put the fish under her bed for the night. Now at last she could have a good time on the fishing trip, too! Without hurting a single fish herself! Buying one already dead didn’t count, she thought.
The next morning she heard her dad up early.
“Happy Father’s Day!” she called.
“Well, you’re in a good mood today,” said her dad. He looked relieved.
“I am,” said Molly.
She pulled her jeans on and washed her face and brushed her teeth and combed her hair.
Something smelled bad. What in the world was it?
Then she knew. It was her fish! It was not cool under her bed.
She put the package of fish and the package of donuts into her tote bag. Her dad had all the fishing equipment ready.
Molly and her dad drove over to the Peterses’ house. When they got out of the car, the Bakers drove up. Everything Ashley wore had a nautical theme. Even her tote bag had a fish on it.
Rachel and her dad were waiting with their equipment.
“Phew, what smells around here?” shouted Roger, looking at Molly.
“I think it’s your tote bag,” said Mary Beth. She looked into the bag.
Rat’s knees! Why hadn’t Molly put that fish in a Ziploc bag?
“Why are you bringing donuts?” she asked. “We get lunch on the boat.”
“Shh,” whispered Molly. “They are for the fish.”
“We’re supposed to catch the fish, not feed them!” said her friend.
“Mrs. Peters said the fish were hungry in the morning,” said Molly.
“They will eat the worms on our hooks,” said Mary Beth. Then she walked over to look at Tracy’s fishing pole.
The fish wouldn’t eat the worms on the hooks if Molly had anything to say about it. If she fed them first, they might turn their noses up at the worms on the hidden hooks and swim away. The donuts wer
e far better-tasting than worms. They were chocolate and had frosting with little sprinkles. She would be able to protect not only her own fish but all the other fish, too!
The Pee Wees piled into the vans with their dads and buckled their seat belts.
“Here we go!” shouted Roger. “Watch out, giant fish, I’m going to get you!”
Not if I can help it, thought Molly.
The dads and the uncles laughed and joked. Jody’s wheelchair was folded and tied to the top of the van.
Tim was pretending he was a fish and was using his arms for fins.
His uncle Roy pretended to swim after him. “Got you!” he yelled, making Tim giggle.
“We have a wonderful day for the trip!” said Mr. Peters. “Just look at that sun! It’s a perfect Father’s Day.”
“We won’t know if it’s perfect till we see how many fish we get,” said Roger’s dad with a laugh.
Kevin’s dad was passing out flyers to all the other dads. The flyers said VOTE FOR MOE FOR SCHOOL BOARD.
He told them all the changes that needed to be made by the school board. He told them about one school that was overcrowded.
“And that’s why I’m running for school board,” he said.
“No wonder Kevin is such a politician!” whispered Mary Beth to Molly.
Finally they got to the lake, and the launch was waiting.
“All dads on deck!” called Mrs. Peters, laughing. “And uncles, too!”
Hank, the man in charge of the launch, helped them load their things aboard. Then he told them about the safety rafts lined up on the deck, and how to press a red button to inflate them in case of emergency.
“But we probably won’t ever need those,” he said, and he smiled.
All the Pee Wees smiled, too, except Sonny.
“It’s not funny,” he said. “I don’t want to be sitting on one of those things out there.” He looked over the railing at the water. The wind was blowing, and the water was wavy.
“How deep is it?” he asked Hank.
“It’s good and deep out there where we get the pike,” Hank said cheerfully. “Way over your head, little guy.”