The facts about fishing with worms.

Intended for children ages 9 to 10 years old.

Junior felt the fluttering of the wounded bird's heart skip a beat, slow, and eventually stop altogether. He knew it was just nature's way; creatures were born and they died. No matter how much he understood and could accept that he still felt the unwelcome burning behind his eyes that suggested tears. He took a deep breath to loosen his tightened chest, "It's too late for this one."

The vet looked around from her box of instruments, "Oh!" She glanced at Junior and then, to avoid his embarrassment, to where the tiny body lay in his open hands. "It’s for the best you know. It was very badly hurt." She gently picked up the little bundle of feathers, "I'll… um… dispose of this."

"I'd better get off or I'll be late." Junior rubbed has hands against his trousers. "I'll see you tomorrow." He looked around for his bag, "I'm gonna go fishing after school."

Junior saw them before they saw him. As he came around the corner of the boiler house Beef and his gang were leaning against the wall looking every bit like a pack of rabid dogs.

If he turned around now Junior would have to go right around C-Block to the other entrance. Also the gang might see him, and he knew that the last thing you did in front of pack animals was to turn your back on them. Junior wasn’t scared of them; he was much bigger than they were and was sure he could thrash them in a fight. It was just that he didn’t need that sort of aggravation.

Striding purposefully past the pack, Junior kept his head up and ignored them all.

"Hey! Loner," Beef shouted after him. "You better watch out, someone might come along and chop that pony tail off, you big ugly girl."

Junior didn't answer, but Beef's jibe had rattled him. To tease him about his hair hurt. In Niue it was the custom that boys didn't cut their hair until the coming of age ceremony. He hated the ignorance and stupidity of some people.

He was still fuming when he walked into class. He was the first in that day. Junior noticed that there was a broken chair in the corner by the door and ideas of revenge came to mind. He pushed its pieces back together and put it upside down on the table like all of the other chairs. He put it where Beef usually sat, only today he didn't. It was the last unused chair when Fat Joanne came in, late as usual. The teacher and the class teased her for being late and so she was flustered when she sat down. For a millisecond the chair held, and then it collapsed in spectacular fashion. When she fell Joanne grabbed the desk, tipping it over her. Junior had never felt as guilty of anything as he did then.

After school Joanne was sitting in the park as Junior passed with his fishing gear, on his way to the stream. "Hi, how are you?"

She fixed him with her darks eyes, "And what do you care?"

Junior was taken aback by the fierceness of her response. He shrugged and started to walk off.

"Go on then," she called after him. "I thought you were better than the rest of them, but you’re a coward too!"

She had made a great cast. He took the bait and turned back, "What do you mean?"

“You don’t make any effort.” She played the line, “You think that being alone means you are tough,” and reeled him in,”but it just means you end up lonely.”

“Perhaps being alone is better than hanging around with people you don’t like,” he challenged.

“How would you know?” She cocked her head, “Do you think its right to judge people without taking the time to find out anything about them?”

Maybe she was right; he hadn’t been fair.

She stuck out her chin and smirked, “I bet you didn’t know that I am a champion fisher?”

Before he knew it they were talking and laughing together down by the river.

Perhaps making friends was a little like fishing with worms.

(697 words)

© Mark Ashton 2004