When she pulled the fish to the bank, I grabbed it, thumb inside the grainy mouth, index and middle finger holding the outside in place. The fish’s tail moved side to side mechanically as it hung from my fingers, the gills opening and closing against the air.
After pulling the hook from its mouth, I placed the fish in a five-gallon bucket.
Thais looked down into the water as the fish, no bigger than the palm of her hand, swam round and round in the small space.
“That’s about two tiny bites for you,” I joked. “Kinda small, don’t you think?” I grinned and started toward my pole.
Thais followed, her nose scrunched on one side.
“Well,” she said smartly, “a little fish is better than no fish.” She smirked.
She reached for the cup between us and dug around inside the dirt; a worm wiggled between her fingers, and she hooked it.
I laughed lightly and drew in my line again.
“I’ll get one,” I said with confidence. “And mine’ll be big enough for both of us—not like that little appetizer you caught there.”
Thais glared at me, but she couldn’t keep the joy from her eyes.
“I accept the challenge,” she said, undaunted.
She cast her line again and then plopped down next to me, moving the cup of worms out of the way.
Two hours later, bait depleted and I nearly drained of all my blood, we called it quits before sunset.
A sharp smack rang out after my hand shot up and fell across the back of my neck.
“Come on before they eat you alive,” Thais said.
THAIS
We left with two palm-sized fish.
“A big-shot fisherwoman,” Atticus said as we came upon the backyard. “You were right.”
I blushed and set the poles against the side of the house.
“Well, I didn’t really prove anything with my appetizer.”
Atticus smiled.
“You may have only caught one little fish,” he said, setting the bucket next to the bottom step, “but you know what you’re doing. I thought you’d ask me to bait your hook for you, or something. I’m impressed!”
“Well, now you get to impress me,” I said, pointing at the bucket. “By cleaning them.”
He looked at me curiously, arching a brow.
“You mean you don’t know how?”
“Well, I know how, I just don’t want to do it. I don’t like it.”
“Oh, you think it’s…gross.” He laughed lightly. “So, you’re like the other girls, after all.”
My eyes narrowed.
“I don’t think it’s gross,” I halfway lied. “I just…well, I don’t—what, you can’t clean fish?” I turned the tables on him. “Big strong man like you can’t stand the sight of blood?”
ATTICUS
I reminded her it was me who’d hunted the snake, cut off its head, brought it back to our camp, skinned it, sliced open its belly and pulled out all the guts without flinching, but I was having too much fun. And I was about to have even more.
“Honestly,” I said without honesty, “I’ve never actually cleaned a fish before. I’ve caught them and have eaten them, but looks like you’re the only one of us who can do it right. And since we have only two with hardly any meat on their bones, you probably shouldn’t leave it up to me or else we’ll end up having turtle for dinner.”
Thais’ mouth fell open with a spat of air.
“We are not eating George!”
She stepped right up to me, reached behind me (I wanted to lean in and kiss her, but I didn’t) and she pulled my pocketknife from my back pocket.
“This is the sharp one, right?” she asked, holding it up in front of me.
“Yeah, that’s the one I sharpened yesterday.”
“Good,” she said. “Then I’m going to clean the fish this once to show you how to do it, because after this I really would rather this be your job.”
I nodded. I tried so damn hard to keep a straight face.
“Okay.”
Thais reached into the bucket and grabbed a fish—once she could get a good hold on it—and then sat down with it on the steps.
“The first thing you do is cut off the head.”
She laid the fish down on the step, positioned the knife and began to saw away. A few scraping and popping noises later and the head separated from the body.
“Then you scrape off the scales.” She turned the knife to the blunt side, and she scraped off the scales.
“Then you cut off the head.” She cut off the head.
“Next is removing the guts.” She dug her finger inside and pulled out the guts.
When she was finished, she held her fishy hands out at her sides away from her dress.
“Now see how easy that was?” she said, her mouth pinched with disgust.
My lips pressed tightly together as I tried not to smile.
“Well, yeah I suppose that was simple enough,” I said, arching a brow. “Maybe you could show me one more time on the other fish? You know, just so I know I have it right.”
The smile finally broke in my face.
THAIS & (ATTICUS)
Realization dawned, and I cocked my head, chewed lightly on the inside of my lip. “You already know how to clean fish, don’t you?” I said, feeling stupid.
He shrugged, smile still in-tact.
I marched right up to him; he stood his ground, towering over me enough to shade me from the setting sun, his smile growing.
I put my hands on my hips.
Atticus just looked at me, amused.
I just looked at him, plotting. Oh, so you want to play, huh?
I tilted my head, and pushed up on my toes. Atticus leaned toward me, expecting a kiss, but instead, my grimy hands came up and grabbed a hold of his stubbly cheeks. He froze as my slimy fingers slid down his face and neck; blood and fish scales stuck to his skin.
I smirked.
Atticus’ face turned beet red, and his smile grew.
“If you weren’t so pretty…”
“You’d what?” I challenged.
“I’d nothing,” he answered quickly, beaming. “Nothing at all.”
I blushed, and my brief bout of boldness fell under layers of shyness. To combat it, I went back over to the bucket and the chopping block.
“I’ll do the other one,” Atticus gave in.
“No, it’s okay. I can do it.” I tried so hard not to think of my father.
He placed his hand on mine. “Let me clean it,” he insisted. “This shouldn’t be your job; you’re too…kind to be sawing the heads off fish.”