Ally's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Ally wanted trout, and she wanted it today. Every evening the big man came home to the log cabin smelling of fish. He hummed on the porch, cleaned his catch, and never shared a bite with the black Lab who watched from the steps. The man was so tall and shaggy he looked more beast than person. His whole family was like that, towering and wild. Ally had decided she would be there next time, right by the water, before the trout were ever bucketed away. There was one problem. She had no idea where the big fellow fished. He left before dawn and came back after dark. Ally had tried following him twice. Both times his long legs lost her within the first meadow. She flopped on the porch boards and sulked by the single rocking chair. The hunt felt hopeless. Then the wind shifted. A smell rolled off the laundry line behind the cabin. Ally lifted her nose. There, pinned and swaying, hung a blue and white checked flannel shirt. His shirt. It carried everything, the man, the water, and the sharp silver tang of fish. Ally's tail thumped. She did not need to chase him. She needed to track him. She gripped the flannel's cuff and tugged it from the line. She buried her nose deep in the plaid. Pond mud. Crushed grass. Fish. She locked the scent in her memory and set off across the meadow. The trail was faint but real. She followed it past a cluster of blackberry bushes heavy with dark fruit. A thorn snagged her ear. She pushed through and kept her nose down. The fish smell grew stronger with each step. The grass opened. Ally stopped at the edge of a calm pond fed by a thin stream. Shapes slid beneath the surface. Trout. Dozens of them, long and silver, turning in the clear water. This was the spot. She had found it. But she was not alone. The whole shaggy family stood along the far bank. The big man crouched with a line in the water. Two others waited beside him, and a small one splashed in the shallows. Four sets of dark eyes swung toward Ally at once. The little one pointed. The big man rose to his full, enormous height. He was not humming now. He stared at the dog who had appeared at his secret pond, and his family stared with him. Ally's plan had worked. She knew exactly where the trout lived. But she had walked straight into the middle of the fishermen themselves, and they did not look ready to share.