turtle release

turtle release

fiction
edward w pritchard

see also
The Cage fighter who grew to be afraid of the dark, Feb 11, 2011

The little girl's voice was excited and carried to where I was standing fishing. I had watched the two of them get out of their car up near where mine was parked by the baseball field about 200 yards from where I stood fishing. Despite the strong wind I could hear every word the little girl said.

He was Boswell and must be her Mother's boyfriend. Boswell was carefully listening to her but he was struggling a little carrying the heavy snapping turtle. In spite of the towel that protected him from the snapping turtle I could see he carried a monster. Boswell was straining with the weight of the turtle and his neck and shoulder muscles were bulging through his shirt. I thought of Chaucer's miller's tale, the Miller could knock a stout barn door off the hinges with his head. Boswell looked the same as Chaucer's Miller, except he also had large arms and a cage fighters face as he held the large turtle away from his body and face with his hands and arms in a circle.

The little girl was explaining to Boswell where the turtle would swim to when they released it into the Lake.

I continued to fish and I am not sure if they knew I was there, about fifty feet to their right, around a bend in the Lake, fishing in the cold wind.

I listened to the ritual they went through releasing the snapping turtle but I didn't hear where they had found it. After a few minutes and they were sure the turtle was gone they planned a walk along the Lake, mostly to distract the girl from worrying about the turtle which now that it had disappeared she was fretting over.


I had caught a few fish while they were releasing the turtle and I heard him tell her that they should say something to the fisherman. About then I got a bite on my second pole, the one I was fishing with tight line for cat fish and I had a premonition that it was the turtle. I was using bacon for bait and it was plausible although maybe unlikely that I had hooked their turtle. 

As the girl came around the corner with the man I cut the line and grabbed the other pole and began to fuss with the reel. Boswell was somewhat shy but the little girl, Megan  talked up a storm. She told me about the turtle and talked until she got cold.

For a variety of reasons I don't do much fishing anymore.
end
more to follow on Megan and Boswell