James and Kyle floated in a dented aluminum fishing boat and stared into the murky, brown water of the man-made lake. Rocking gently back and forth by the wind aided waves; they watched as the slowly rising sun peeked over the trees and chased the morning haze from the water’s surface. James had brought his girlfriend’s eleven year old son out fishing in hopes of being able to talk and get to know each other better, but after an hour on the water barely a word had been spoken. James wasn’t sure how to start the conversation and Kyle didn’t seem to mind the silence.
James reached down between the two benches and pulled a couple donut holes from a box on the floor.
He offered Kyle one, “Only a couple left.”
Kyle shook his head without breaking his stare from his bobber floating on the water. James stuffed both in his mouth and began reeling in his line.
The morning was warm for a late fall day and both of them were taking advantage by wearing t-shirts and shorts. The buzzing of a small motor broke the monotonous slapping of waves against the side of the boat and they watched a fisherman head to his favorite spot out on the far edge of the small lake.
“One last cast then let’s call it a day okay?” said James.
He whipped his fishing rod forward and the reel whirred as his line chased after the bobber. Twenty yards out the red and white bulb splashed into the water sending ripples in every direction. The boat rocked, Kyle grabbed hold the edge with one hand while keeping a grip on his fishing pole waiting for the boat to settle.
Kyle pulled in his hook, took a fresh worm from the plastic container between his feet and pushed the point through the mid-section as it wriggled in his fingers. Wiping the slime from his hand, Kyle flung his fishing pole and let the worm splash deep into the lake. He watched the bobber bounce up and down over the small waves and squinted at the sun’s reflection.
Fish were avoiding their hooks and the bobbers never ducked beneath the surface. The morning had brought them nothing but silence. James glanced over to Kyle. He wanted to say something but had been waiting for the right moment.
“Might as well call it a day, they don’t seem to be biting.”
James shook his head knowing he had missed his opportunity to say what he needed to. He reeled in his line.
Once they both had their poles tucked beneath the seats James spun around to the small engine hooked on the back of the boat and yanked the pull start. Three pulls and the motor sputtered to life. James grasped the throttle and pointed the small boat towards the launch.
Kyle sat up straight, his hands holding onto the bow, and let the moist air brush past him. A smile broke across his face and he watched as the shoreline drew closer, not caring they didn’t catch any fish, just enjoying the time spent with his new friend James fishing on a Saturday.