Tell Me A Story

“Look!” I called out, as I impulsively dropped my phone to extend my arm and point towards the window, “The flag!” Within just seconds, this became a moment I’ll never forget. Excitement arose inside the fish house after hours of what seemed to be pointless waiting. Earlier that morning we got up in sync with the sun to begin day four of waiting on “THE monster pike,” as my dad would say. We drilled numerous holes, set up multiple tip ups, and eventually, had one big surprise that made everything worth it!

Just as the sun peaked through the clouds making for a gorgeous auburn backdrop over the glassy miles of frozen ice, we woke up to the sound of a crack. The ice beneath our fish house shifted causing my whole family to shoot up and instantly become wide-eyed. Truthfully, it was a good thing. We ended up over sleeping and the awakening sound got us up just in time to set up the tip ups! Knowing it was going to be a cold morning I walked right out the door still wearing my fuzzy, pink pajamas and a heavy winter coat. The piercing wind was blowing drifts of snow across the lake like a hectic arctic blizzard. My dad had the auger and drilled just the right amount of holes as me and my brother, Hunter, let down a line with stinky smelling fish bait. With hopes to lure in a northern, we finally reached the last one. My fingers went from cherry red to pale white and lost entire circulation. I had lost all feeling in every single finger, which kept me from successfully unwinding the last spool. Giving up, I lightly threw down the tip up and took a run for the warm fish house.

With no faith in the last tip up, I sat inside watching for every other flag to fling awake. Surprisingly, after several hours there was no movement what-so-ever. Out of boredom, I brought out my phone and began snapchating. I took a picture out of the window in the direction of the final tip up I placed this morning. Looking at my phone screen I knew something didn’t seem quite right. I glanced over the top of my phone and caught a glimpse of the same hesitant sight. Lifting my head up and down, back and forth, from my phone to the window I jumped and screamed in excitement! “Look!” I shouted, as I point my finger towards the window, “The flag is up!”

I threw my coat on as fast as I could and darted for the Tip Up. As I threw my gloves off to the side, I got ready to yank the line and set the hook deep in the lip of the fish. "Whack!" The game was on. With a monster fish on the end of the line, I fought the fish to the top of the ice. Pulling and lugging the line I saw the head fill the hole. My dad grabbed the gill, careless of the deep red blood that began to gush from his fresh cut, he pulled the northern up out of the hole. It seemed to grow bigger and bigger as he lifted it from the water. Soon I saw the back fin. I was shocked upon the size. The fish of a lifetime was in my hands. Mesmerized, I smiled from ear to ear. 

Three years later, and I still remember this moment as the most defining moment of my life. From that minute on, every time I go out fishing I leave one tip up half way down, just as I had the time I caught the biggest fish in my life. Just like every time I walk out on the ice, as in depths of many seas, my heart would drown in memories.