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Fish Lures

Dead things had a certain look to them–living things, too. This was somewhere in between, hovering and slowly revolving, perhaps nudged by the breeze.

By Patrick JuhlPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
1
Fish Lures
Photo by Jenny Salita on Unsplash

It was not alive. It was not dead. The thing rotated slowly in the air above the pond, and Carolyn squinted to see it. Dead things had a certain look to them–living things, too. This was somewhere in between, hovering and slowly revolving, perhaps nudged by the breeze. It was not suspended by anything–just suspended over the water, fur ruffling in the frigid air. It was a tabby cat, motionless, but certainly not dead, and just hovering, like how a small green inchworm seems to hover when dangling by its little thread of silk.

“What the hell,” Cary thought, but what she said was “what the help.” Carolyn did not swear. Swearing meant a time out, although her parents were not outside with her then. Old habits.

The surface of the pond was frozen solid. It was covered with a light dusting of snow that concealed the ice, but it was solid. Carolyn and her sister skated on it all winter, and the worst that had ever happened was that Emily once fell and twisted her ankle. Sometimes, her daddy would come out to ice fish, but rarely caught anything. He always swore that “the big one” was hiding out there, just waiting to be caught. Regardless, there was no hole in the ice yet, or else he would have left his little tent over it to mark the spot.

Shuffling, Carolyn made her way out over the ice, coming ever nearer to the revolving figure. She didn’t have her glasses on, and knew that, surely, she had misinterpreted the shape hanging over the middle of the ice. The tail flicked in the breeze, and Carolyn’s breath caught in her throat.

“What the hell,” she whispered, not daring to say the word too loudly, but reveling in the freedom of it. “What the hell.”

The shape came into greater focus as she drew nearer: triangular ears, mottled fur, long tail that curled at the end and hung from the body like a fishing hook from a line.

“Hell hell hell,” Carolyn whispered, and shivered despite her snow clothes. The situation was bizarre, but she wasn’t really afraid, she told herself. It just gave her a chance to say that bad word freely, and with good reason, and she was going to say it as many times as she could until things became normal and it would be inappropriate again. Surely this was an appropriate time to say “hell.” Cary had heard her daddy say much worse things for far less.

Right upon the thing hovering above the ice, she could see it clearly. It was a medium-sized, tabby cat, hanging in the air, not suspended from anything or anywhere. She reached out a numb finger and poked the tip of the tail, leaning forward so as not to get too close. It was cold and sort of slimy, and tough as the bristles on a horse brush. It wasn’t… she peered closer, squinting. It wasn’t a cat at all. It was very well made, but it was made. Made from sticks and mud and debris.

“What the helling hell?” She said again, fully out loud, and stepped closer to the inanimate object, searching for what sort of line it must be dangling from. Fishing line could be practically invisible.

With a wumph and a splash, the layer of snow covering the hole under the floating facsimile gave way, and Carolyn was in the water before she had time to make a sound.

Moments later, the false cat dropped into the water with a plop.

The monstrous fish grinned. The winter had been tough, and food scarce. The humans were right: fish lures worked wonders.

Short Story
1

About the Creator

Patrick Juhl

Born in California, live in Tennessee. Wanna know more? Well maybe there are hints hidden in code in each of my stories. But probably not. I've got a black cat named Peewee.

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