Cross Roads

He picked up the rod and reeled in the line, leaving about eight feet out. His eyes watched the rod to ensure that he stayed within his allotted boundaries and felt like he was doing an excellent job when Ben told him to stop. The line fell to the ground and Mickey looked at his teacher, waiting for the praise he deserved on his first try.

“Mickey, you look like a cheer leader and that can turn into a bad habit. Try again, but slow down the motion with your arm.”

“I like this Ben, you seem intent on me doing this right.” Mickey attempted to make the line flow perfectly by smoothing out his motion. “Ok, do you mean like this?”

Ben again asked him to stop and gave him some new instructions, working him through the lesson for over an hour. “Mickey, that’s it for now. You have the hang of it, but I don’t want you to overdo it your first time.”

“Ok, Ben. No more lessons for today, but lets stay out here and do some real fishing.” He pulled the yarn off and tied a fly to the end of the line.

“Wait a minute, how in the hell did you know how to do that? Have you been putting me on with this lesson shit?”

Looking at him with believable innocence, Mickey smiled. “Ben, I’m a quick study. I watched how you tied your fly. Now, let’s go catch that fish.”