Chapter Two
AT THE EDGE
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Daria held the line against the rod with her finger, opened the bail on her reel, and cast again. The big lure sailed out a long distance, flashing in the sun, and hit the water with a splash. Daria began reeling, and the lure stirred and swung into action. Two metal arms unfolded from its sides and grabbed the water, setting up a ridiculous-looking paddling motion, and producing a loud glorpglorpglorp sound. The lure's yellow color, the two big eyes painted on the front, and its sound and motion made her think of Homer Simpson drowning. It cracked her up.
Daria doubted there were any fish in this relatively small river big enough, mean enough, and stupid enough to tackle that outlandish lure. That was one reason why she was using it. Nothing like cleaning a pile of slimy smelly dead fish to spoil a fun day of fishing.
Daria had grabbed her rod and the big crazy lure (it was actually named 'crazy' something - the rest of the name had worn off) and bugged out for the riverbank as fast as ever she could, as soon as they'd parked. Dad was swearing and yanking at some tangled gear, Mom was cursing her cell phone, apparently out of range, and Quinn was whining about... everything. Down here, there were some smelly fish remains and two smelly fishermen, much to be preferred over the company of her loving family. They were quiet.
Her thoughts drifted away from the river to the journey here. Quinn had definitely scored a tactical victory in her struggle to make her older sister's life hell on earth. She had managed to get several sneak attacks in under Helen's radar, and goad Daria into angry retorts that drew parental fire. Even given the undeniable fact that Helen liked Quinn better, for reasons Daria still couldn't pin down, this was skillful work on the brat's part. She had exploited a weakness in their parents' perceptions that Daria had been unaware of. Quinn seemed to have an instinct for that sort of thing that produced results equal to, and often better than, Daria's superior brain power. Well, that same trick wouldn't work again, and payback was a bitch. But she would need to avoid, if possible, being stuck in the back seat with the little creep, and to come up with ways to draw Helen's attention to her provocations without coming off like a whiner or a tattletale.
But why did the vile creature hate her so? Try as she might, Daria could not remember doing anything to it that could trigger this all-out, undying hostility. It was as if it had been programmed from birth to do and think and be the exact opposite of everything Daria did and thought and was.
And why did Mom and Dad love her more? Was being cute and bouncy that great a thing? Were brains and ability worth so little? Asking them was worse than useless. They denied any favoritism and got mad at her for suggesting it.
Daria's attention was drawn to a ruckus upslope in the picnic area. Some larval form was screeching its lungs out, and calling forth similar sounds from its parents. Daria couldn't make out any words because the top of the bluff, and the trees and bushes growing on it, were between her and the source of the ruckus. It sounded like the offspring was really excited about something, though.
Daria was beginning to wonder if the larva might be Quinn, even though it didn't sound like her, when the shrieking was replaced by the sounds of doors slamming, an engine overrevving, and tires screeching. They were leaving. Must be some other family of nut clusters. Although she had thought she'd heard one of her father's trademark 'gah-dammit's as they roared away... Naah. They wouldn't leave her. They never left her alone for long, no matter how she begged. She wasn't totally insane yet, and they were very dedicated to the task. She turned back to the river and cast again.
As she reeled and watched the lure wobble back to her across the river, Daria wondered why it was taking her dad so long to get down here. He had really been looking forward to this trip. He was a firm believer in the myth that fishing was relaxing, despite all experience to the contrary. He'd probably made a minor tangle into a major tangle, and was up there swearing and ranting and blaming fate and his Old Man and everyone but himself for it. Sooner or later Mom would yell at him and get him to calm down, and he'd untangle the lines and assemble his gear and come on down. Daria made another cast.
And it probably wouldn't be long before Quinn exhausted whatever satisfaction she was getting out of whining about there being too much dirt in the outdoors, and how unfair it was that everything was green and clashed with her pink t-shirt with the bunny on it, or whatever, and came down here to begin tormenting her sibling afresh. Funny, she couldn't hear anything that sounded like whining, and it wasn't like Quinn to maintain a silence for more than seventeen seconds or so. Daria finished reeling in the crazy whatsit, secured it to the rod's bottom line guide, and headed back up the steps to the picnic area to investigate the mystery.
~~~~~~~~~
Stay tuned for Chapter three- Like An Ugly Kitten
AT THE EDGE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daria held the line against the rod with her finger, opened the bail on her reel, and cast again. The big lure sailed out a long distance, flashing in the sun, and hit the water with a splash. Daria began reeling, and the lure stirred and swung into action. Two metal arms unfolded from its sides and grabbed the water, setting up a ridiculous-looking paddling motion, and producing a loud glorpglorpglorp sound. The lure's yellow color, the two big eyes painted on the front, and its sound and motion made her think of Homer Simpson drowning. It cracked her up.
Daria doubted there were any fish in this relatively small river big enough, mean enough, and stupid enough to tackle that outlandish lure. That was one reason why she was using it. Nothing like cleaning a pile of slimy smelly dead fish to spoil a fun day of fishing.
Daria had grabbed her rod and the big crazy lure (it was actually named 'crazy' something - the rest of the name had worn off) and bugged out for the riverbank as fast as ever she could, as soon as they'd parked. Dad was swearing and yanking at some tangled gear, Mom was cursing her cell phone, apparently out of range, and Quinn was whining about... everything. Down here, there were some smelly fish remains and two smelly fishermen, much to be preferred over the company of her loving family. They were quiet.
Her thoughts drifted away from the river to the journey here. Quinn had definitely scored a tactical victory in her struggle to make her older sister's life hell on earth. She had managed to get several sneak attacks in under Helen's radar, and goad Daria into angry retorts that drew parental fire. Even given the undeniable fact that Helen liked Quinn better, for reasons Daria still couldn't pin down, this was skillful work on the brat's part. She had exploited a weakness in their parents' perceptions that Daria had been unaware of. Quinn seemed to have an instinct for that sort of thing that produced results equal to, and often better than, Daria's superior brain power. Well, that same trick wouldn't work again, and payback was a bitch. But she would need to avoid, if possible, being stuck in the back seat with the little creep, and to come up with ways to draw Helen's attention to her provocations without coming off like a whiner or a tattletale.
But why did the vile creature hate her so? Try as she might, Daria could not remember doing anything to it that could trigger this all-out, undying hostility. It was as if it had been programmed from birth to do and think and be the exact opposite of everything Daria did and thought and was.
And why did Mom and Dad love her more? Was being cute and bouncy that great a thing? Were brains and ability worth so little? Asking them was worse than useless. They denied any favoritism and got mad at her for suggesting it.
Daria's attention was drawn to a ruckus upslope in the picnic area. Some larval form was screeching its lungs out, and calling forth similar sounds from its parents. Daria couldn't make out any words because the top of the bluff, and the trees and bushes growing on it, were between her and the source of the ruckus. It sounded like the offspring was really excited about something, though.
Daria was beginning to wonder if the larva might be Quinn, even though it didn't sound like her, when the shrieking was replaced by the sounds of doors slamming, an engine overrevving, and tires screeching. They were leaving. Must be some other family of nut clusters. Although she had thought she'd heard one of her father's trademark 'gah-dammit's as they roared away... Naah. They wouldn't leave her. They never left her alone for long, no matter how she begged. She wasn't totally insane yet, and they were very dedicated to the task. She turned back to the river and cast again.
As she reeled and watched the lure wobble back to her across the river, Daria wondered why it was taking her dad so long to get down here. He had really been looking forward to this trip. He was a firm believer in the myth that fishing was relaxing, despite all experience to the contrary. He'd probably made a minor tangle into a major tangle, and was up there swearing and ranting and blaming fate and his Old Man and everyone but himself for it. Sooner or later Mom would yell at him and get him to calm down, and he'd untangle the lines and assemble his gear and come on down. Daria made another cast.
And it probably wouldn't be long before Quinn exhausted whatever satisfaction she was getting out of whining about there being too much dirt in the outdoors, and how unfair it was that everything was green and clashed with her pink t-shirt with the bunny on it, or whatever, and came down here to begin tormenting her sibling afresh. Funny, she couldn't hear anything that sounded like whining, and it wasn't like Quinn to maintain a silence for more than seventeen seconds or so. Daria finished reeling in the crazy whatsit, secured it to the rod's bottom line guide, and headed back up the steps to the picnic area to investigate the mystery.
~~~~~~~~~
Stay tuned for Chapter three- Like An Ugly Kitten