by Jean Fischer
Duncan’s face lit up. “You’re a park ranger!” he said. “No way.”
“Way!” said Aunt Dee, smiling.
“But ladies can’t be park rangers—can they, Dad?”
Duncan’s father looked at the ID and smirked. “Looks like they can, Dunk,” he said, handing the ID back to Aunt Dee. “So what did the other ranger think happened to the coyote? I told the Millers that I saw something big hurry into the woods. I’m sure it was a bear.”
“You’re sure it was a bear, or you think it was a bear?” said Aunt Dee.
Mr. Lumley ignored her question. “So what did the guy ranger say?”
Duncan stood with his hands on his hips. Once in a while, he glanced toward the kitchen at the cookie sheet filled with dough balls.
The smile disappeared from Aunt Dee’s face. Sydney could tell she was as irritated with Fred Lumley as Sydney was with Duncan.
“Nothing proved it was a bear attack,” said Aunt Dee. “We saw another set of tracks on the beach, probably a wolf’s. Ranger Geissman and I agreed that the coyote’s death was the result of a dog fight. So Mr. Lumley, you and Duncan have nothing to worry about. There’s no bear, and everything is under control.”
“Come on, Dunk,” said Mr. Lumley, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” They turned and walked out the door. As they did Fred Lumley mumbled, “I know what I saw.”
“Have a nice evening,” Aunt Dee replied cheerfully.
Neither Mr. Lumley nor Duncan answered.
“Well, those are a couple of happy fellows, aren’t they?” said Sydney’s aunt, shutting the door.
“You haven’t seen the worst of them,” Sydney told her. “Duncan is a real pain, but I’m going to show him. Tomorrow, when Alex and I start fishing, he’ll wish that he’d never come to North Twin Lake.”
She went to the kitchen and loaded the dough balls into a plastic bag. “I’ve got a secret weapon. While Alex fishes with live bait, I’ll be fishing with these—some nice, tasty tuna treats for the big guys.”
“Well then, you’d better turn in early,” Aunt Dee said. “The fish bite best at dawn.”
Sydney and Alexis went to their room to study the fish booklet that Aunt Dee had brought from the ranger station. They needed to research which fish were the biggest and how to catch them.
“Muskies,” said Sydney.
“Huh?” Alexis wondered.
“We need to fish for muskies. Esox masquinongy is the scientific name. Also known as muskellunge, lunge, maskinonge, and great pike. The Ojibwa Indians called them maashkinoozhe, which means ugly fish. It says here that you catch them by casting, and they like spoon lures or live bait.”
“What’s a spoon lure?” asked Alexis. She took some hand lotion from her bag, put a glob in the palm of her hand, and offered some to Sydney.
“I’m not sure exactly,” Sydney said, squeezing lotion onto her hands. “The bait shop probably has them, but I think we should just stick to our live bait and the dough balls. It says that the world record for the biggest muskie is almost 70 pounds.”
“Oh Syd! How will we handle a 70-pound fish? We don’t weigh much more than that.” Alexis sat down on Sydney’s bed.
Sydney continued reading. “The average size for a big muskie in North Twin Lake is 35 to 40 inches. It doesn’t say how much a fish that size weighs. The rules for the fishing contest say that the fish are measured by length, not weight. Here’s a picture.” She handed the booklet to Alexis.
“Oh, it’s ugly!” Alexis exclaimed. “But it can’t help the way it looks. Poor fish.”
The picture showed a long, silver brown fish. It had brown stripes on its body and spots on its tail. The eyes were glaring and the nose was short. Its lower jaw stuck out in a long underbite.
“It has teeth!” said Alexis.
“Yeah, I know,” Sydney said. “Look at the caption under the picture. It says the teeth are as sharp as surgical scalpels, and you should never stick your hand into its mouth.”
“As if I would want to stick my hand in there,” said Alexis. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. But Sydney, do you really want to do this?”
“I do!” said Sydney. “We’re going to show Duncan Lumley how to fish. Tomorrow we’ll catch the biggest muskie in North Twin Lake.”
“Well then,” Alexis said, standing. “We’d better get ready for bed and get a good night’s sleep. We have to be up before dawn.”
She headed for the bathroom holding her toothbrush and pajamas. “And if we catch one of those things, you’re going to take it off the hook.”
Before long, the girls turned off the light in their room, said their prayers, and settled into their beds. Sydney rolled over and faced the window. She opened it a few inches to let in some fresh air.
“Hey,” she said. “I can see that purple glow.”
Alexis climbed down from her bunk and looked. “Oh yeah,” she said. “The tops of the trees are glowing lavender. Is that spooky or what?”
Sydney sat up in her bed and made room for Alexis. The two of them gazed out the window at the purple light.
“What do you think causes it?” Alexis asked. “It’s pretty in a strange way.”
Sydney put the window up a little more. “I can’t think of anything in a forest that lights up,” she said. “When Bailey came to visit me at my grandparents’ house at the ocean, we saw the waves glowing at night. It was something called bioluminescence. Billions of living organisms in the water glowing from a chemical reaction. It was really pretty. Everything glowed sort of green and blue.”
Alexis put her face nearer the window screen. “So do you think maybe some sort of giant organism is out there in the forest that’s causing it to glow purple?” she asked.
“You mean like a giant glowworm, or a monster mutant firefly?” Sydney grinned.
“Very funny,” said Alexis. “But what if billions of tiny organisms live deep in the forest, and they glow purple? That’s a possibility, isn’t it?”
“I suppose,” said Sydney.
Suddenly, Alexis gasped. “Did you see that?”
Sydney did see. Something big was out there again lurking near the picnic table. It was in the shadows, just like the night before. And this time, the girls were certain that it was the mountain man. The moon was bright enough for them to see his form. He walked about slowly with a long stick, picking at the earth.”
“What’s he doing?” Sydney whispered.
“I’m not sure,” said Alexis. “I think he’s digging in the dirt.” She moved over so Sydney could get a better look.
“He has some sort of bag,” Sydney said. “It looks like he’s collecting things. He is! I just saw him pick something up and put it in the bag. What do you think?”
“I think you’re right,” said Alexis. “Shhhh! Listen.”
From just beneath the window, came a soft, rhythmic panting sound. Someone, or something, was breathing hard like it had just run a race, and then—
“Oh!” Sydney cried, slamming down the window. Looking in at them was the head of a huge, black dog. Its eyes glowed, and its open mouth was filled with sharp menacing teeth.
Girls Can Fish
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Sydney and Alexis went out to fish. Neither girl had slept much the night before. The dog’s head had scared them both. It disappeared so quickly when Sydney shut the window that she wondered if they had only imagined its wild eyes and spiky teeth.
No. She was sure of it. The mountain man and his dog were real.
Sydney carried her fishing rod and the bag of dough balls onto the dock. Alexis followed with her pole and a small pail filled with minnows.
“You dropped a dough ball,” Alexis said. She bent over to pick it up. “Hey, this isn’t a dough ball. It’s a big mushroom!”
Sydney set her fishing pole on the end of the dock. She looked at the brown mushroom, about as big as a ping-pong ball, in the palm of Alexis’s hand. “That’s weird,” she
said.
“Look, I see more floating in the water,” said Alexis.
A dozen mushroom caps floated in the water beside the dock.
“Someone must have made a salad or something and tossed them away,” Sydney said. She took the mushroom from Alexis’s hand and threw it as far as she could into the lake. The mushroom barely landed on the water’s surface when a big fish leaped up into the air. It made a narrow arch and plunged back into the lake with a splash, taking the mushroom with it.
“Wow, did you see that?” Sydney asked.
“I think it was a muskie,” said Alexis.
The girls sat on the dock and got their fishing lines ready.
“I hate this,” Alexis said, sticking the hook into one of the minnows. “I feel like a murderer. I don’t know why I let you talk me into using the live bait.”
Sydney was busy loading a dough ball onto the end of her line. At first, the dough didn’t stay on the hook, but after a while she figured out how to squish it just right so it stuck.
“Don’t look now, but here comes trouble,” said Alexis.
Duncan Lumley and his dad walked toward the dock. Sydney and Alexis cast their lines into the lake and pretended not to see.
“Get out of my spot,” Duncan said.
“I didn’t see your name on it,” Sydney replied.
“I always fish here,” said Duncan.
Mr. Lumley stood by his son. A toothpick dangled from his mouth. He wore a life jacket and carried a fishing rod and tackle box. “This is where Dunk fishes,” he said.
Sydney refused to look at him. “Each cabin has a dock, and this one is ours. Duncan can fish on his own dock.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Duncan step forward. His dad grabbed him by the arm and stopped him.
“They’re girls, Dunk,” he said. “They don’t know any better. Come on. You can fish with me in the boat.”
“If I fish from the boat, I can’t enter what I catch in the contest,” Duncan complained. “And I wanna win!”
“Well then,” his dad said, “I suppose you’ll have to fish from our dock.” He gave the girls a dirty look, and then he walked away.
Sydney turned and smiled at Duncan. His green eyes flashed, and he stormed off stomping his feet.
“Don’t you bother my boy while he’s fishing,” Mr. Lumley called to them over his shoulder. “Cast away from his line, and don’t get in his space.”
“Will do,” Sydney said.
Mr. Lumley stepped onto the dock by Cabin Two. As the girls watched, he untied the aluminum boat from the dock. He pulled the cord on the outboard motor and revved it. Then he steered the boat into the lake, speeding past Dock One, nearly clipping the lines from Sydney’s and Alexis’s poles.
“Ooooo, he’s just as irritating as Duncan!” said Sydney. She reeled in her line and cast it again, trying another spot farther out. At the same time Duncan stood at the end of his dock and cast his line into the water.
“Hang in there, Syd,” said Alexis. “Remember what the Bible says: ‘Losing self-control leaves you as helpless as a city without a wall.’ That’s Proverbs 25:28.”
“You’ve gotten almost as good as Beth at quoting scripture,” said Sydney.
Alexis reeled in her line a little bit. “I’m trying to learn a verse a day.
“Hey, I think I’ve got something!” The tip of her pole bent down toward the water.
“Reel it in, Alex! Reel it in!” Sydney cried.
Alexis leaned back and pulled against the tension on her line. She turned the crank on the reel hard and fast.
“Go, Alex! Go!” Sydney shouted. “Don’t look now, but Duncan has something, too.”
Duncan stood on Dock Two reeling in his fish just as hard and as fast as Alexis. Then, all of a sudden, he yelled. “Stop! Hey! Stop reeling in your line!”
Alexis glanced over at him. “I think he’s yelling at me,” she said.
Duncan was jumping up and down. “Stop reeling!” he shouted. “You’re tangled in my line!”
But it was too late. The fishing pole flew out of Duncan’s hands and splashed into the water. As Alexis turned the crank on her reel, she watched his pole moving nearer to her dock.
“Oh, oh,” said Sydney. “Here he comes.” Duncan rushed onto the dock where the girls were fishing. He took the pole out of Alexis’s hands and reeled in her line. When he reached down to pick his pole out of the water, Sydney felt like pushing him in.
“This is why girls shouldn’t fish,” Duncan said, untangling his line from Alexis’s.
“Listen,” Sydney said, raising her voice a little. “We were here fishing first. You knew where we’d cast our lines, and you deliberately threw yours near ours. So don’t blame us for the trouble.”
She stood and faced Duncan. He stepped back. She realized she was at least a head taller than he was, and she had muscles—Sydney kept in shape. Duncan, on the other hand, didn’t look at all strong.
“Let’s just try to get along,” she said, lowering her voice.
“Okay?”
Duncan backed off. “Okay,” he said, nearly whispering. He freed the last bit of his line and reeled it onto his pole. “Hey, what’s this stuff?” He pointed to the bag of dough balls.
“Bait,” said Sydney. She picked up the bag and held it protectively.
“What kind of bait?” asked Duncan. “Secret bait,” Sydney said.
“Yeah, well, it’s not as good as mine,” Duncan told her. “Hey, did you hear that howling last night?”
Alexis put another minnow on her hook. She asked Sydney and Duncan to stand back, and with all her might, she cast her line into the lake. “We heard it,” she said.
“What do you think it was?”
“The ghost of Jacques Chouteau,” Duncan said matter-of-factly.
“What makes you think so?” Sydney asked. She picked up her pole from the dock and continued fishing.
“Everyone knows the story,” said Duncan. “Old Jacques got trapped in a cave in the forest. An avalanche or something trapped him inside, and he died in there.
Now, his ghost howls to get out. Ow-wooooooo…. And sometimes he says, ‘I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna get you!’ “ Duncan put his arms in the air and walked like a monster toward the girls.
“Just ignore him,” Sydney said.
“I am,” Alexis agreed.
“Aw, come on.” Duncan sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “Don’t you have a sense of humor?” “You’re not funny,” said Sydney.
Then something pulled hard on her line. She held tight to the pole with both hands and yanked. All at once, the crank on her reel spun around and around making the line shoot forward.
“Hang on! You got something,” Duncan cried. “Here, let me do it.” He reached for Sydney’s pole.
“Get away!” Sydney said, shoving him with one shoulder.
“Aw, come on,” said Duncan. “You got something big on there. Let me reel it in. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“No!” said Sydney.
Alexis thrust her pole into Duncan’s hands. “Here,” she said. “Hold this.” Then she grabbed the handle of Sydney’s pole with both hands and helped her to hang on. “Reel it in, Syd,” she said.
“Nice and slow,” Duncan added.
Sydney let the fish take a little more line. Then she reeled it in. She did it again and again. Suddenly, she felt a strong jerk on the line. Then the fish shot up and out of the water! It was about twenty yards offshore, and when it splashed back into the lake, it fought hard against the hook.
“Oh man, you got a muskie on there,” said Duncan.
Sydney couldn’t tell if he was excited or complaining. She fought the fish until it was too tired to fight. Then she reeled it in. “Here it comes,” she said. “Here it comes.”
The fish’s long snout appeared near the dock. The muskie opened and closed its mouth and thrashed in the water.
“It’s huge!” Alexis
squealed.
The fish was way too heavy for Sydney to lift by herself, besides she was afraid of its teeth. “Now what?” she asked.
“I dunno,” said Alexis. She looked at Duncan.
“You gotta get it in your net,” he said. Then he looked around the dock. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a net.”
Sydney hadn’t even considered that they might need one. She should have known that they would need help lifting a big fish up onto the dock.
Alexis sensed Sydney’s embarrassment.
“We can do it,” she said. “Come on, Syd. We can both grab it and lift it up.” Alexis got down on all fours and leaned over the edge of the dock.
“No,” said Duncan. “Wait.” He turned and sprinted toward Dock Two. Soon he was back with his net. “Here, I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Sydney. Secretly, she wished she hadn’t said it. She needed that net, but she didn’t trust Duncan to help her.
“Aw, come on,” Duncan said. “I’m not going to do anything. Besides, I can tell already that it’s not a winning fish.”
He pushed between the girls and scooped the fish into his net.
Sydney saw that he struggled to lift it up. She reached over and grabbed onto the handle, and together they pulled the net onto the dock. “Remember,” she said. “Helping me to net it doesn’t give you any rights to the fish.”
“I don’t want your dumb old fish,” said Duncan. Carefully, he removed the hook from the fish’s mouth. Then he took a small tape measure from his pocket and measured it as it lay gasping on the dock.
“Thirty-two and a half inches,” he said. “Not big enough.”
“How do you know?” Alexis asked.
Duncan took his cell phone out of his back pocket. He punched in some numbers. “Didn’t you read the rules?” he said. “When you catch a fish, you call Tompkins’ and text FISH. They’ll send you a message saying what the biggest catch is so far. If it’s less than that, you’ve gotta let the fish go.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Sydney.
Duncan’s cell phone rang. “Look,” he said, handing her the phone. “The message on the screen says 34 INCHES. See? Not big enough.”