The ride in
Nobody caught anything else. Royce pulled the lines at about eleven fifteen and ran us in, and it was the longest five miles I have ever ridden.
Carmen kept trying to talk to me. She is a good woman and she was mortified by her father. She leaned over once and said Birdie, I am so sorry, I do not know what got into him. I told her it was not hers to be sorry for.
Roland fell asleep against her shoulder. Zach sat at the very back, on the corner by the transom, with his hood up and his hands jammed in the pocket of his hoodie. He did not look at anybody, especially not at Bobbie.
Get a new story in your inbox every morning.
Facebook doesn’t show you every story we post. Our free newsletter does. Join 2,500+ readers.
Larry sat on the bench by the cabin with his arms crossed and his cap down. Once, when we passed the lighthouse, he looked over at Bobbie. She did not look back. He turned away.
At the dock Rufus tied us off and started handing the fish up in a plastic tote. Royce stepped off and pulled Larry aside by the fuel pump, and the two of them talked for a while with their backs to us.
When Larry came back his face was red and set. He did not say anything about it. He just picked up his share of the gear and walked it to his truck, an old blue Silverado with a cap on the bed.
Royce came over to me while I was helping Bobbie get her backpack. He was quiet for a moment before he said anything.
“I’ve been running this boat twenty-two years,” he said. “I have never once had a man do that. I want you to know I logged it, and I told him he will not be booking with me again.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He looked at Bobbie. “Young lady,” he said, “that was as clean a fight as I have seen a kid make all summer. I mean that. You landed that fish. It counts in my book.”
She said thank you, Captain, very politely. But I could see it was not the same. Her fish was at the bottom of Lake Michigan and his kind words were not going to change that.