Page 5

Jude

Fishin’ in the Dark

An hour later, all three tents were erected. Jude had been magnanimous enough to help Ronan build his, even though he’d been a dickhead deconstructing Jude’s tent. They’d gathered wood for a campfire, put their food and snacks in a second cooler with ice, and had a quiet lunch at the site’s picnic table.

“Why don’t we go fishing?” Jude suggested. “There’s nothing else to do here and I’m not in the mood for Ultimate Naked Frisbee.

“Sounds good to me,” Fitz said, gathering his lunch trash. “Jace bought all the gear; poles, waders, bobbers, and I think there are worms too.”

“Have you ever fished before?” Jude asked. Fitz didn’t seem like the kind of guy who went fishing to relax. In all the years he’d known the man, he’d never gone once.

“Not a day in my life. How about you?” Fitz asked.

“Yeah, Running Eagle taught me how. You know the whole, teach a man to fish and he eats for life, thing?” Jude shrugged and popped open the SUV’s hatch. He started grabbing the gear they would need. “Hey, look, there are waders for all of us.”

“What the hell are waders?” Ronan asked.

“They’re neoprene overalls with boots at the end. Supposed to keep you dry when you wade into a river.” Jude couldn’t imagine the clothing would keep them warm. It was April in New Hampshire. The rivers were bound to be extra cold with snow melt running off the mountains. He wasn’t about to mention that to Ronan or Fitz. He wanted to see the looks on their faces when they walked into thirty-eight degree water.

“Good old Jace thought of everything,” Ronan said. “I’m not touching slimy worms, someone’s going to have to bait my hook.”

“I’ll do it,” Jude offered. “So long as you don’t destroy my tent again.”

“Scout’s honor.” Ronan waggled his eyebrows.

Jude had a feeling he was going to wake up the next morning with the tent collapsed on top of him. Ronan was just that kind of asshole, but Jude had been working on his revenge. He was going to dump the melted ice water from the cooler into a pitcher and pour it over Ronan’s tent in the middle of the night. The water would seep in through the fabric where Ronan’s body or sleeping bag was touching it. He’d wake up soaked. Of course Jude would only put that plan into motion if Ronan pushed him to do it. Ronan was sometimes his own worst enemy. “I’ve got the campground map here.” Jude pulled the folded paper out of his back pocket. River’s about a quarter of a mile that way.” He pointed north.

“Okay, Avengers, let’s suit up.” Fitzgibbon passed out waders to Ronan and Jude.

“Uh, stupid question, do we take our pants off before we put them on?” Ronan asked.

“Duh,” Jude tossed back.

“I’ll put mine on in my tent.” Ronan grabbed his gear and headed off.

“It’s a nude campground, doofus. No one cares if your ass is out in the breeze.” Jude rolled his eyes.

“It’s not my ass I’m worried about.” Grumbling, Ronan climbed into his tent and zipped himself inside.

As Jude and Fitz watched, Ronan’s tent started to rock side to side. It looked like he was in there wrestling with someone. “I need baby oil or something to get these fuckers on.”

Jude snorted and started to laugh. “Just be patient!” Jude knew Ronan would take his advice. He slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“You’re not supposed to wear them naked, are you?” Fitz asked, wearing a shit eating grin.

“Nope!” Jude shimmied out of his shoes and pulled the waders on over his pants, next, he slipped his arms through the shoulder straps. Seconds later, he was clicking the buckle of the chest harness. “See, piece of cake.”

With a shake of his head, Fitzgibbon followed suit.

“Yeooooooow!” Ronan howled from the tent. An unintelligible string swearing followed, but Jude thought he heard “douche canoe sandwich” and something about a rancid “fuck knuckle.”

Fitz and Jude turned to each other. “They’re stuck to his package, aren’t they?”

Jude nodded, laughing so hard, he’d bent over double. After a few seconds, he managed to get a hold of himself. “You need some help in there, buddy?”

“Fucking things are stuck to my schlong! Can one of you give me a hand?” Ronan sounded pitiful.

Jude couldn’t help himself. He gave Ronan a round of applause and burst out laughing. “I’ll go grab our naked neighbors. I’m sure they can help you out!”

“Assholes!” Ronan called back. The tent started shaking again. Seconds later, there was a ripping sound like Ronan had torn a bandage off a cut. “My balls!” he howled, sounding as if he were in serious pain. Ronan wailed in obvious pain.

“Sounds like someone got an unintended nut wax.” Jude burst out laughing so hard, that his cheeks and stomach hurt.

Ronan, looking pale, emerged in his underwear, holding the waders over his arm.

“How’s your package?” Jude asked.

“Still attached, thank fuck,” Ronan said, managing a weak smile. “If I can’t get it up, I’m coming for you assholes.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming at all!” Jude said, barely holding back a case of the giggles. He supposed Ronan had gotten his cum -upance in spades. Dumping ice water on his tent was off the table for now, or at least until Ronan did something else spectacularly stupid.

“How the fuck did you get them on?” Ronan asked, looking exhausted and ten years older than he had before his now-hairless stones were a casualty of the waders.

“One leg at a time.” Jude snorted.

“Put your pants back on, then step into the waders, asshat.” Fitz rolled his eyes.

“You dirty bastards.” Ronan shook his head and went back into his tent.

Ten minutes later, after a few wrong turns, courtesy of Jude, they arrived at the river. He figured the others wouldn’t let him forget getting lost, but so far, no one said a word. Ronan walked bowlegged like a cowboy from the old west, but was no longer complaining about his aching cojones, and Fitzgibbon had seemed caught up in his own head. Jude had a feeling whatever Fitz was chewing on was the thing pushing his temper into overdrive.

Digging into their tackle box, Jude brought out a container that said, “Live Bait.” Fitz opened the lid and Jude pulled out a thick, juicy nightcrawler.

“Ew, I can’t even look at that.” Ronan gagged.

“Why, does it remind you of your dick after it lost the battle with your waders?” Jude asked on a snicker, before adding the bait to Ronan’s hook.

“Too soon, asshole,” Ronan grumbled. He took the fishing pole Jude offered, holding it out in front of him as if it were afraid it was going to bite.

Jude put worms on his and Fitz’s hooks and he stepped up to the side of the river, leaving plenty of space between himself and the others. Large boulders lay in the water with colorful wildflowers blooming around them. The sun shone brightly, with a few dark clouds moving over the nearby mountain peaks. “Okay, this is really simple. Take a look at the reel, see how there’s a metal arc lying at the top of it. The piece of metal is called a bail. Is it on the left or the right side?”

“The right,” Fitz and Ronan said in unison.

“Yup, when it’s in that position, no line can unspool. If you flip the bail to the left, then you can cast the line and reel it in when you get a bite. Watch closely.” Jude flipped the bail mechanism, held the rod so the bait was behind him, and cast the rod forward. The line unspooled and the hook plopped into the water with a small splash. The bobber floated on the surface of the water. “Now you try.”

Fitzgibbon stepped up first and casted perfectly, just the way Jude had shown him. “Okay, Ronan, you’re up.”

Ronan, with his tongue poking out of the left side of his mouth, obviously deep in concentration, moved the hook behind him and cast his arm forward. Unfortunately, instead of the hook sailing toward the water, it snagged on an overhanging branch. “Fuck me with a chainsaw!”

“Nice move, Ex-lax!” Fitzgibbon hooted, before he yelped. “What the hell is that, something’s tugging on my line.”

“That something is a hungry fish. Start reeling it in.” Jude couldn’t help feeling a little envious of Fitz, especially when the rainbow trout broke the surface. It was a good sized fish and would be delicious grilled up over the campfire.

“I’m doing it! I’m doing it!” Fitz shouted with glee, as the fish danced out of the water and onto the rocky edge of the river. It flopped around like, well, like a fish out of water. “What do I do now?”

“Pick it up by the gills and I’ll pull out the hook. It’s a beauty, Fitz,” Jude said in his best Crocodile Hunter accent. He grabbed his phone and started to record Fitz’s catch of the day.

Fitz set the rod on the ground and tried to corner the fish. When he moved left, the fish flopped right.

Jude snickered. “You gotta grab him, Fitz. It’s just a rainbow trout, not a great white shark. It’s not gonna bite your hand off.”

“I’ll help.” Ronan offered, now that his hook was no longer stuck on a branch. He hurried over to the shore and ran after the fish.

Jude kept his phone pointed at the two grown men, who were splashing around in the water like kids. “Better hurry before the fish pulls the rod back into the water with it.” He laughed as Ronan and Fitz stepped up their game. Finally, after a bit of wrangling, Fitz grabbed the fish. He held it up for Jude to remove the hook.

“Great job, Fitz. Hold it up for a picture.” Jude took a few steps back and prepared to snap shots of Fitz, who wore a triumphant look. He snapped one picture before the fish wriggled and slipped out of Fitz’s grasp. It hit shore and flopped toward the water. Ronan and Fitz gave chase, both men splashing into the water again.

“Got him!” Ronan shouted, wrapping his hands around the fish, which squirted out from between his hands. Giving chase, Ronan bumped into Fitz from behind, sending both men into the frigid water.

“Help!” Ronan squealed. “I’m going down!” He was lying face down, staring into the current, which was battering his face and filling his waders.

“I’ve got you.” Fitz grabbed Ronan by the back of the waders and yanked him back to his feet.

“What the fuck?” Ronan shouted, spinning away from Fitz.

“I save your life and that’s how you thank me?” Fitz folded his arms over his broad chest.

“No, there’s something pricking me!” Ronan yelped again and started to dance around like he had ants in his pants.

Jude ran to him and unclipped the chest strap. While Ronan flailed around, Jude started tugging the waders down his chest, abs and ass. Just as he pulled them past Ronan’s package, a wriggling fish shot out. It hit the river with a splash and was gone.

“What the fuck?” Ronan asked, staring up at the sky, as if he thought God would actually answer.

“Talk about the catch of the day!” Fitz hooted as pointed his phone at Ronan, who’s waders were down around his ankles, with his soaked grey sweatpants molded to his body. “You’re bleeding.” Fitz pointed to an area on Ronan’s left thigh, close to his family jewels.

“Holy fuck!” Ronan shucked down his pants to see a line of puncture marks, two of which were bleeding. “That thing took a bite out of me! It was trying to eat my dick!”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jude sighed. “The fish just got you with his anal spines.”

“Stop making shit up, Jude. Just give it to me straight, am I going to die from this fish bite? Do I need some kind of fish rabies vaccine?” Ronan took half a step forward, and tripped over his waders, managing to catch his balance at the last second before he fell back into the river.

Jude snickered. “I’m not making this up. Brown trout have an upper dorsal fin and a lower anal fin, which is close to the tail. Both fins have sharp spines in them to help protect against predators. Bears and foxes might not be too keen on putting a sharp prick in their mouths.”

“You’re not gonna die, pal.” Fitzgibbon snorted, which quickly turned into laughter. “Your prick almost got pricked!”

“Hilarious,” Ronan muttered. “Can we go back to the tents now? I’m soaked and need something to eat, then a nap.”

“Sure thing, Fish Bait!” Jude slapped Ronan on the shoulder and started to pack up their gear.

They might not have caught fresh fish for dinner, but in Jude’s mind laughing together and having fun was worth far more than grilled trout in lemon butter.