Amazon
Category:
Humor
Publisher: Roseheart Books
ISBN-10: 0980150490
Pages: 139
ISBN-13: 9780980150490
Two anglers find themselves in a paradisical wilderness for a weekend fishing trip. What they don't realize until too late is that they are camping in the den of a 400 pound black bear, who doesn't like company.
The Fishing Trip That Got Away
45
me,” Vincent responded distantly.
Eugene couldn’t respond fast enough. “Oh, yeah.
The bear’s a shy little fella! He’ll just run off and hide
when he hears us so he can tear into somebody else’s
tent and drag their ass out!”
“The current wisdom
―”us! Don’t you think the
Even with the bells ringing their passage (or maybe
because of it), the two men walked with great caution,
taking ever smaller steps as they distanced themselves
from their campsite. When they arrived at the spot
where they’d been trapped the night before, they
combed the area for Vincent’s discarded vest.
“Here’s some blood. At least we know we’re
here,” Eugene noted, pointing to a dribble of blood
stains on an otherwise insignificant little pile of rocks.
“So where’s the vest?” Vincent asked, stepping up
to check the blood and tinkling as he went.
“It’s got to be here somewhere,” Eugene
answered, still agitated and curt.
“And where’s the deer?”
“What difference does it make where the deer is?
The deer’s probably vulture food by now.”
The search continued in vigilant silence. Vincent’s
right hand gripped his gun tightly as he tinkled into
and out of every hidden clump of vegetation. The men
were thorough. Every tumble of rocks was upturned,
and every square foot of leafy cast-off and suspicious
clump of weeds was raked through or tamped down by
heavy rubber-coated boots.
“You never let me finish telling you about my
dream,” Vincent said, his foot dragging over a mound
of high grass.
“Dudamaine, let’s get the hell out of here first.”
“Everybody’s standing in the courtroom and
applauding me. And I’m thinking this poor alligator
hasn’t a clue what’s going on. All I can remember is
thinking, nothing in nature is either good or evil.
Nothing. There’s just nature.”
The Fishing Trip That Got Away
47
“Let it go, Dudamaine. It sounds like you’re trying
to make that goddamn bear into Disney’s friendly
fellow earth creature. That’s not going to work on
somebody who was almost eaten alive.”
“I was just trying to make conversation.”
Eugene’s voice filled with disdain. “Look, if we
don’t find those keys, I’m walking out of here. I don’t
care if it takes me until Christmas. Then you can tell
every goddamn dream you ever had.”
“Eugene, it’s sixteen miles up that ridge to the
nearest road. It would take two days to hike it, that’s if
you could find the trails.”
“Thanks entirely to you, Daniel Boone!”
“I think it’s all just guilt,” Vincent said, kicking
through some debris and tinkling again.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your paralysis.”
“I get panicky and I freeze. Happens to people.”
“People get panicky and freeze, but they don’t
become paralyzed.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Hysterical paralysis. Sometimes it’s a repressed
guilt you haven’t dealt with.”
“Hey, is this your wimpy-assed way of telling me
I’m a crazy bastard?”
“Don’t you remember that Indian man who
married a dog?”
Eugene wasn’t interested in wherever this
conversation was going, and the low, flat tone of his
voice said so. “No, I don’t remember an Indian man
who married a dog.”
“Dudamaine,” Eugene barked, “forget the bells.
You ring bells and all he’s going to hear is an ice
cream truck!”
“I think we should let him know we’re coming.”
“What if he’s looking for
bells might just tip him off?”
“I think we wear the bells.”
“Dudamaine, you go ding-a-linging along. I’ll stay
back here with that gun.”
“Eugene, this whole mess is because you don’t
listen.”
“Oh, I see. I had a goddamn bag of peanuts. And
that’s why we were attacked by Godzilla!”
“Spicy peanuts.”
“Dudamaine, we could’ve gone to a pond
somewhere to fish. And stayed in a goddamn motel.
No, we have to get in touch with our souls out in the
middle of nowhere! Well, you might be happy to know
I did get in touch with my soul last night, just as it was
about to pass into the hereafter!”
“I’m wearing the bells,” Vincent said gruffly.
Eugene’s impatience became childish and he
stomped off into the scrub without another word. The
bells had won the day and Vincent’s wrist had the
honor of bearing and jingling the tinny little harbingers.
46 Ed Tasca
After some early morning preliminaries performed
at individual stations not far from the Blazer or each
other, Vincent armed himself with his thirty-eight
where Eugene was sure to notice. He stuck it under his
belt buckle. But it was Eugene who took the lead. He
stepped up to his own drag trail and pointed like a
hunting dog to where he’d stripped away the vest.
Both men knew the risks, but Eugene seemed
determined that all he had to do was creep back into
the scrub and the vest, the keys and their salvation
would be laying there waiting for them.
Always cautious to the bone, Vincent studied the
drag trail as though he were about to tackle Donner’s
Pass. He was looking under and around to be sure
there wasn’t a safer and shorter way into a spot he still
hadn’t seen in the daylight.
Eugene became impatient. “Well, let’s do this.
Everything’s quiet. We zip in, zip out. Get in the car
and head down to the nearest KFC.” Vincent didn’t
answer. “Dudamaine, what’s the problem?”
“I think we should wear the bells I brought with
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