Billy Goatee's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Billy needed to learn what the fish wanted before he could give it to them. He grabbed his tackle box and climbed down to the water's edge. The morning sun lit up the shallows. He tied on a red and silver lure he'd finished last night. Three casts later, a bass struck hard and fast. Billy reeled it in, studying how the lure had twisted in the water. The fish had hit from the side, not below. He made a mental note and released the bass back into the marsh. One test down, dozens more to go. But Billy's test catches only told him so much. He needed to know what real fishers looked for when they opened their tackle boxes. The thought made his stomach tight. Real fishers meant people. Crowds. Strangers who might ask questions about his designs. Still, he packed three of his best lures in a small pouch and headed out. He'd heard about a lake where fishers gathered to compete and swap stories. Trees surrounded the water, and bright flowers grew thick along the shore. Billy spotted a dozen fishers casting lines from the banks. He kept his distance, watching them change lures and discuss their catches. One fisher held up a standard spinner bait and complained it wasn't getting any bites. Another laughed and said the fish here were too smart for basic designs. Billy's hand moved to the pouch at his side. Maybe just one question. Maybe just one opinion. He took a breath and walked toward the nearest fisher, his heart hammering against his ribs. The fisher glanced up as Billy approached. Billy cleared his throat and asked what kind of action the fish were responding to today. The fisher shrugged and said nothing was working right. Billy pulled out one of his lures, a green and copper design with a unique wobble. He offered to let the fisher try it. The man took it, examined it closely, then tied it on his line. Two casts later, his rod bent hard. He whooped as he reeled in a fat trout. Three other fishers crowded around to see what lure had done the trick. Billy's chest tightened. Too many eyes. Too many questions. He mumbled something about needing to go and backed away from the group. Back at his cabin, Billy set up his bug zapper on a post near his workbench. The light would let him work after dark when his mind was clearest. He walked to his wooden fish cleaning station and scrubbed it down, ready for tomorrow's test catches. The trip to the lake had taught him something important. His lures worked. Real fishers wanted them. But showing them off meant dealing with crowds and questions he wasn't ready for. Billy picked up his wire cutters and started on a new design. He'd keep testing. Keep improving. When he finally opened his bait shop, the lures would be so good that fishers would come to him. He wouldn't have to go to them.