The Dancer - serialized novel Written for Steemit Part 4

in #story7 years ago (edited)

Welcome Steemit Friends I invite you into my world for some horror and the power to overcome horror. It is a world of the spirit and the hidden abilities some people have that they find out and secretly use to the benefit of all of us. Written for Steemit.

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Table of Contents - Page 1

The Dancer - Great Catch 4

We arrived at the berth and Martha had said that there was nothing there and Peter agreed but they did their dance for luck for our fishing before we left.

Rog, or Roger, my son in law had asked the kids if there were none of them there before we boarded the boat because he was there with us. I could see his regret in asking as soon as he asked Martha and Peter. After all, he had been there for years while Martha and Peter danced ‘them’ away.

“I do not think Daddy if you are here it matters at all.” Martha answered very formally and then she scolded him, “Daddy, you should know better by now.”

“Yeah!” Peter forcefully agreed with Martha, “This was just to get more fish Dad.”

“Oh, okay,” Rog shrugged it off on Mommy, “Your Mother wanted me to ask.” Then, he turned it on me, “Isn’t that right Gran’pa?”

Since we were playing the blame somebody else for no faith game I said, “Gran’ma caused all the questions last night after you went to bed, after I told them about the fishing yesterday.”

“She never has ever believed any of us,” Martha stated matter of fact. The women were the ones who usually took the kids to the park while they were growing up.

“Yeah!” Pete agreed.

“Well, since we have settled it all,” I said, “The fishing dance was good right, and it is a beautiful fall day, shouldn’t we get on the boat and all get to catching our dinner?”

“We should!” Rog agreed.

“The fish will bite after Pete and I both danced to call them.” Martha said as she climbed into the boat.

“That’s all we care about!” Dad agreed and he was in the boat and settled. Pete followed quickly and I cast off the ropes and then climbed in. The kids had their life jackets on and I then pulled the motor for a start. Since it had been run just last evening it roared to life quickly.

After a little warm-up of the engine, we were off. Rog and Pete sat up front. Martha sat on my left in the co-captains seat. She held her hair even though we sat behind the windshield. “The waves sure are smooth this fall morning I said. Martha smiled in return.

“The usual spot,” I asked Martha? That was right at the mouth of the Maumee River.

“I think we should go out into the lake a little further because word must have got around about yesterday. Look at all those boats where we usually fish.” Martha pointed.

I had not noticed, but she was right. The closer we came to the mouth, the more fishing boats I could see anchored not only at the mouth of the Maumee but down the river as well. “We should have gotten up a little earlier Rog, I thought there wouldn’t be anyone out here because no one was out yesterday.”

“There is that hole about a mile out and I don’t see anyone out there.” Roger replied from the front of the boat as he peered forward. “Let’s hit that first.”

I steered toward that, a secret hole we only used in summer, and we left the mouth of the Maumee behind. I knew exactly where he wanted. There was a hole out there about forty feet deeper than the surrounding lake. It was some sort of underwater bowl in the lake bottom and it was a couple of hundred yards across.

The waves were maybe six inches higher out here and nothing to worry about. For Lake Erie, that was as smooth as it almost ever got. We sighted our position based on triangulation of two buildings one on each side of the river and dropped anchor. “Before we fish, let’s put up the canopy Martha and sit in the shade.”

Martha agreed. It was easy to attach the front of the canopy to the clamps in the windshield and then lock the supports in the back. We were done in less than two minutes. And before we could even finish baiting our hooks, Roger yelled, “I’ve got one! Pete, ready the net!”

“I have one too!” Pete had to drop the net and grab his pole or it would be pulled out of the boat. “It’s big Dad!”

“Martha, do you want to go up there and help them land the fish?” I asked her.

“I’ll do it.” Martha answered and was on her way. She picked up the net and sat waiting for whoever would bring a fish to the boat first. It turned out to be Roger, her Dad. His pole was bent over from the fighting fish.

“It’s a channel cat!” Martha yelled as she made first one attempt, then another on the fish fighting for its life. On the third try, Martha netted it.

“It’s huge Daddy. It’s huge.” Martha yelled.

“That one is mine!” Pete said, “Get it in the boat Martha!” She wrestled it into the boat while Dad said,

“It is yours Pete and that means mine must be even bigger.” Dad’s fish jumped. “It’s a huge bass!”

“I’ll get the spare net.” I yelled. It was indeed huge. “It’s a striper, not a large mouth.” I observed while I moved to the co-captain chair. Roger strained against the fish just on the other side of the windshield. The bass was tiring and broke the water right next to the side of the boat. I was ready and scooped it up in the spare net which was almost not big enough, “I’ve got it Rog!” I pulled it out of the water.

“It’s a lunker of a striper.” Roger exclaimed. Later on, we would measure it at 28 inches, fifteen pounds.

There were exclamations of praise and the joy all around for catching the two great fish, greater than any of us had caught in a long time. The fish were hooked in the first two minutes at that.

It took several minutes to thump the fish into submission, get them out of the net, remove the hooks, and into the holding tank under the back seat.

Once the stunned fish were in the live tank Roger said, “I believe I am limited out Roland.”

I agreed with him, “You are on stripers Rog but there is no limit on channels and you can fish for those. As for Pete, maybe he will bring in a striper and I want one and so does Martha, don’t you Martha?”

“Oh yes I do.” Martha sat in the co-captain chair and swiveled it around to face the back of the boat. Soon, everyone was fishing away. None of us caught anything near what we had first hit; well Dad and Pete, but they were all good sized keepers. That was four more fish. There was one 16 inch striper and three cats of the channel variety of various sizes over two pounds.

“I’d like to move the boat a out a little more to that edge of the bowl. So, reel them in.” I said. I said to Pete, “Pete hoist up the anchor.”

Peter did just that and when we were ready, I moved the boat about two hundred yards further. I looked at my watch and it was just past 11:00 am by the time we arrived to the spot I had picked. We dropped anchor and had our lines in the water, all four.

I remarked on how nice a fall day it was and everyone agreed. Other than that, everyone was silent, concentrating on catching fish like they should be. I knew it was nearly impossible but I hoped to best Rog and Pete with their first fish each. All we needed was for the stripers to swim by and at about noon, they did.

“Dinner bell,” I yelled! “It is a monster, whatever it is.” Just then, everyone got hits.

“They have to be stripers,” Martha yelled during the shouts of joy as people hooked fish and fought to get them to the boat. I’ll bet that we fought those fish for at least a half hour before the first one, Pete’s broke water so we could get a glimpse at it, “Is that a Salmon?”

None of us had ever caught a salmon. It was extremely rare.

“Salmon!” Roger yelled in agreement as his broke water. As far as I knew, a school of salmon must have swum by and each of us had one. Mine was by far the largest. I loosened the drag a bit because I was afraid it might break the line. It was that large whatever it was. While I was busy, ever so careful with my fish, the others landed their catches in the boat one by one.

That must have taken them fifteen minutes or maybe even twenty. Soon, they had the three salmon in the tank with the other fish. No one else had dropped a line in the water while I fought my fish. Martha was on my side of the boat with a net in the back seat waiting in anticipation. Roger was in the front with the big net on my side of the boat. He too sat ready.

Roger saw it down deep about ten feet down in the water. Then it ran away from the boat. “I can’t tell what it is but it is three feet long and this is the only net that can grab it.” Then he ordered,”Martha go sit on the other side of the boat because that net is no use.” Martha obeyed.

Two more times I brought the fish to the boat and twice more it ran. I don’t know how much time had passed. I knew I was about to catch the biggest lake fish I ever caught. It would not fit in the tank. There was a lot of talking and readiness but it was whispers of excitement so the fish would not scare and break the line.

On the fourth time I brought the fish to the boat, I was still seated. I could see it was just under the surface, no deeper than two feet. It was no more than three feet from the edge of the boat. Rog could not grab it but it was a salmon. It was huge. I was weakening but it ran off one more time.

I loosened the drag one more time and it ran at least a hundred yards and dove deep but I had it. Slowly, tightening the drag on the reel, I hauled it to the boat. The great fish, two feet nine inches as we would later measure. Was all tuckered out. It slid through the water like it was dead and Roger netted it from the front of the boat.

“Unbelievable Gran’pa,” he said as he hoisted it out of the water and set it on the small floor area of the front seating area of the boat. He smacked its head with the little club we had for such purposes.

Just then, after the fish was subdued. I looked at my watch and it was 1:10 pm! Martha yelled out,
“Look, it’s them! We need to leave now, or I have to dance.”

“What?” Rog asked. Martha pointed out further into the lake.

“No dancing in the boat!” I ordered loudly. “Let’s just leave it there in the net on the floor Son.” I said to Rog. “It’ll be fine there and we can haul up the anchor and head back.”

Pete joined Martha and pointed out into the lake, “It’s them Dad. They are out there! Look!” Rog looked but...

I looked where they pointed but all I saw was some mist. I had not realized it but the weather had turned sour while I fought the fish and the waves had increased to two feet or a little more. “Everyone else, let’s get all the stuff secure while I start the motor and we will get back to the berth. We’ve had great luck today, Right Daddy?”

“Unbelievable fishing day, kids.” Rog said while he hauled up the anchor and could the rope. “I know I don’t doubt the dance and the ability to catch fish. Now let’s get ready to move while Gran’pa starts the engine.”

“Great day!” I said as I moved the short distance to the motor. Martha had everything ready and sat in the co-captain chair. I noticed that I had not moved the throttle lever to start and so I said to Martha, “Honey, put the throttle in the start position will you?”

She did so immediately. I pulled the choke and Rog said from the front of the boat, “Everything is ready up here.” I nodded and pulled the rope.

The engine did not start and so I pulled it several more times. I have to admit, I was tired from fighting the fish. I pulled it several times and got gurgles but the engine was not catching. I noticed that one in the afternoon or not, it was getting cold fast.

“We do have to get out of here, Gran’pa,” Martha said.

“We will dear, let me check everything before I try to start the motor again.” I checked the throttle lever and it was not in the exact start position and so I moved it until it locked. Then I checked the gas tank. There was plenty of fuel but for whatever reason, the cap on the tank was loose and I tightened it. Then I pumped the little rubber hand-pump ball to pressurize the line to the motor. While I dropped the seat back into place I said, “That should do it. Gas cap was loose.”

“Please hurry Gran’pa, I can see them clearly now.” Pete said with concern in his voice and on his face.

The wind came up fast. “Okay, Martha and Daddy, while I start the motor, let’s get the canopy down, okay.” They agreed and I moved back to the motor.

The first thing I did was push in the choke and pull the cord a couple of times to clear the engine if it was flooded and I doubted it was. As I pulled the choke out, the waves began to grow in size. I pulled on the rope twice and the engine started right up on the second pull. I let it idle a bit with the choke on because the temperature was suddenly colder. Soon, while Martha and her father were taking down the canopy, I knew the motor would stay running with the choke off and so I pushed it in. The engine roared and I told Roger to move the throttle to idle.

It took him a second to move the throttle and the engine idled. I helped them lay the canopy down the rest of the way. Roger looked worried and I was a bit worried as the wind was up to maybe twenty knots. Quickly, the waves had grown to four feet.

Roger was already at the captain’s chair so I had to yell, “Think you can take us in?”

He nodded and soon we were turned back toward shore and on our way.

“We have to hurry, hurry Dad!” Martha and Pete implored over and over again.

“Why don’t you two do seat dances to get rid of them?” I yelled over the wind. Martha nodded in response and started.

I looked back from where we had been and there was suddenly a thick fog or cloud upon the water. I could see the waves were growing in size about a mile back. It would be no more than ten minutes to the berth but I yelled to Rog, “Head for the closest point to shore!” He nodded but did not turn the boat much. I turned to look back and as I did I saw Martha seat dancing, and then I could have sworn I saw something on the water, and then two and they seemed to be walking or moving closer in the cloud upon the water. Then, they moved toward us faster.

I could swear I saw ghost-like humanoids. Never before had I ever seen anything. Suddenly, fear started to creep into me. We were no more than a half mile from shore but the waves were big. The ride was rough but the boat did well and Roger steered perfectly considering the turbulent water. The boat went as fast as it could go.

A couple of hundred yards from shore to Roger I yelled, “Drive right up onto the beach, Roger!” He nodded in response and just then Martha and then Peter began to scream. Maybe a wave hit us? They shot right out of the boat from the port side where they sat into the water.

I yelled, “Overboard” but Roger saw Pete, who was in the front of the boat shoot out and he put the motor in idle instantly. The kids were behind us in the water.

Maybe twenty feet away and separated by maybe twenty feet, they rose in the waves and disappeared. “It’s no more than six feet deep here!” I yelled. Roger unsteadily went to the front of the boat and grabbed the anchor and a life vest and brought them back. Suddenly a wave hit the boat and it was nearly swamped. Roger hung onto the windshield. Then he put on the life jacket.

“I am going to tie the anchor rope to my waist and get them. Don’t let go of the anchor, Roland.” He tied the rope as I answered,

“I won’t let go, Roger.” He jumped into the water as hard as he could toward screaming Martha and Peter. “Try to swim together!” I yelled at the kids over and over as I fed the rope out.

Copyright:
Written for Steemit: Copyright © 2017 Jeff Kubitz - The Dancer - et al. All Rights Reserved. Steemit.com/steemit/@jeff-kubitz

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This is great can't wait for the next one

Thanks for your curation and upvote @honeywish

Great to have this on here! so creative - I am going to upload my nano wrimo posts soon - daily - any writer to writer comments would be great!

Thanks @dante84. I appreciate your comment

Martha - Your scenario - style, impressions and complications, make you think, what will be in the next section. @jeff-kubitz