I came to the top of the little bluff and froze for a second before instinct kicked in. Had I been seen? I allowed myself a quick peak at the fisherman. He was concentrating on his fly and hadn’t turned my direction, not even flinched. I was sure I hadn’t been noticed.
It had been months since there had been any pursuit. Even the dogs were worthless when I didn’t want to be found.
On the other hand, just because there was no active search didn’t mean they weren’t still looking for me. My guess is that I’d either have to figure out how to resurface with a completely new identity or spend the rest of my life out here, on the run.
I loved the wilderness, so no hurry in finding that identity.
And I loved this little patch of relatively still water, a hidden spot far from the casual person’s eyes, the perfect little private trout “pond”.
I moved to another vantage and watched the fisherman as he poached my favorite pool.
He was an expert at his craft. Flyfishing went far beyond the simple casting and reeling of what the typical angler did, and this guy knew it well, a seasoned pro.
The water exploded with the trout and I left while the fisherman was busy with his catch. I’d do my own fishing later when he wasn’t around.
The next day I slunk over towards the river, careful that nobody would spot me, even if anyone was there to be looking.
The coast was clear, there was no fisherman on the bank at my secret spot.
I was just getting my line ready when I heard a voice close behind me, “Hey Mark, if you know what is good for you, you’ll point towards the heavens and slowly turn around.”
I spun to come face to face with my fisherman. I saw the two guys, one on either side, with their guns drawn and pointed. I’m good, but not that good. I stuck my hands up.
A fourth man came out of the brush and cuffed me.
The fisherman smiled.
“Quite the fishing hole you found for yourself, Mark. If you’re ever on the hideout again, which I doubt since you’re a lifer for sure, well, you should find a less perfect place to get your nourishment.”
He turned to the others. “You all think you can handle him from here?”
The one who had cuffed me said, “Yes, sir, not a problem.”
He smiled. “Great. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“I have the perfect fishing spot here and plan to take advantage of it.”
This was written for the writephoto challenge, which is now hosted by KL Caley. She provided the photo at the top and the key word, Fisherman. This week’s challenge is here.