Marion’s New Rig

A very short story.

                                                              Marion’s New Rig

          Marion was so excited to try out her new fishing rod, a surf casting rig, that she fairly skipped over the sand on her way to the surf.  She had always wanted to surf fish but Tom thought it was “unladylike” and that was the end of that.  But he was long gone, taking his prudish, harping with him and that was the end of that.  Marion had only begun discovering all the unladylike endeavors.  She felt more affection for her new fishing equipment that she did for Tom at the end or maybe ever, she thought.  With a one ounce teardrop lead weight and an unbaited treble hook snapped onto her leader, she just wanted to practice casting without worrying about bait or catching a fish.
	It is fair to say that Rob was a smooth swimmer, as all distance swimmers are.  Almost no splash and his stroking elbows didn’t rise high enough to match the small waves that played all around him.  Marion had no idea that she could throw 50 yards but her first cast, her maiden cast with this new rig, sailed far beyond the breakers and into the small ripples beyond.  She immediately began reeling in, thrilled that her reel could retrieve so quickly that the hook and weight flew across the surface of the water.
	When her rod bowed down she could not believe that she had caught something.  How was that possible with no bait or lure?  It wasn’t but seconds later she felt the tug of a fighting fish, a big one.   And only seconds after that she heard yelling and then cursing, amidst a lot of splashing and thrashing beyond the breaking waves.  She saw, out beyond the bigger breakers, two arms coming her way, fast.  
	Every few moments she heard more curses mixed with short, colorful threats and they were coming closer.  She felt awful and threw her precious rig onto the sand and ran down to the surf.  In her sweatshirt, sweatpants and Red Sox ball cap she waited in the surf.  He emerged, blood on his arm and blood in his eyes, ready to rip apart a fisherman.  She ran to him filled with high pitched, frantic apologies and soothing words and he quickly relented.  That is one way to catch a man.