Gone Fishin'

As a child, my grandparents had a summerhouse (well a double wide trailer) on a lake. Every summer the entire family would gather for a long weekend of food, laughter and more food. One particular summer, all of the cousins were at the lake fishing. My oldest cousin, Jordan, was probably six at the time. That would've made me 5. We are almost exactly a year apart. The adults decided that visual supervision was enough; we were mature enough to fish by ourselves. Every so often we would turn around from our fishing spot to wave hello to mom and dad. Yup, they were still there--eating crabs, talking loudly, and enjoying their brothers and sisters.

Jordan and I continued fishing. Casting, watching the bobbers just sit there untouched, reeling in, and re-casting. Not a bite, not one single one! I decided to move to a new spot farther away from my cousin. I walked far behind him, or so I thought. At the exact moment I was behind him, he cast his rod. The few seconds in between are a blur, I think I blocked them from the sheer horror of the memory. As I opened my eyes, I felt a sharp sensation in my cheek. Then a burning, then a tear of pain. Jordan's hook was STUCK in my cheek. He believed my cheek to be a bush, and he continued pulling his rod to free his hook. I quickly grabbed the line and began yelling for him to stop. Yelling. I mean the loudest yelling I could muster. I remember looking up at the house to see if anyone could hear me. Surely enough, my dad dropped the red balloon he was fidgeting with, and came running. I can still see him throwing that red balloon and running as fast as he could towards his baby!

Jordan dropped the fishing rod and began crying. Shouldn't I be the one crying?! Jordan's mom came running as well, not to see how I was, but to scream at Jordan. And oh boy did she scream! I think that boy got a beating like none other in his life! Ok, back to me and my hook!

As my dad rushed to my side, he surveyed the damage. Yup, Jordan had caught me, right in the cheek. The hook was deeply implanted. It was a nice, old rusty hook at that AND it had to come out. Since there are barbs on hooks, it had to be shoved all the way through my cheek. I remember the feeling of metal sliding through my skin. That is not a feeling I'd ever like to have again. As my dad pulled it out, I remember sobbing, not because it hurt so much, but because I was in shock. What had Jordan done to me?!! Would I have a scar? And forefront in my mind, would I have to get a tetanus shot?!

My dad quickly picked me up, and ran me up to the house for all to see. Through cries of "What happened??" "Jordan, how could you?!" and "Will she be ok?" my dad cleaned me up. It was then decided that I did not need a tetanus, but I did need to stay away from Jordan and his fishing expeditions. We quickly mended our cousin-ly friendship and went back to our fishing. Only this time, we stood on opposite sides of the lake.