Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 14

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FRANKIE:

Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to spend some time with you."

His smile is a ray of sunlight. "No kiddin'? So that's a yes?"

"It sure is."

*****

Lazy yellow moon comin' up tonite,
Shinin' thru the trees,
Crickets are singin' and lightning bugs
Are floatin on the breeze
Baby get ready . . .
              -Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

HARRY:

"I haven't gone fishing since I was a little girl," Frankie says with a grin.

The moon and the flame from the lantern lights the area just enough so I can see her smile as she watches her line in the creek.  We're sitting on a blanket near the creek's edge, our shoes kicked off to the side in case we have to wade in after a catch.

Taking Frankie into town for a date wasn't an option.  Not right now, anyway. She's only been here a few days, and I didn't want the townsfolk sticking their noses where they don't belong. I'd snuck around a bit during the day getting some things together so our date would be a surprise.

I'd gathered my fishing pole, made a new one for Frankie out of a birch branch, and scrounged up some worms and crickets for bait. Then I snuck into the cellar through the outside entry and packed us up a picnic dinner of bread, dried sausage, canned pears, and a little cheese. I even had a little homemade hooch wine in a canteen I'd gotten from Niall.

I chose the blanket we'd sit on carefully. I wanted it close enough that she'd have to sit right by me, but I know Frankie would call me out on my shit, so I chose one a little bit bigger.

"I guess fishin' isn't too girly of a thing to do," I say, doubting my date plan. I wasn't at all used to courtin'.

"I like it.  It's peaceful," Frankie replies. Wiggling her toes, she continues, "I used to go fishing with Ed when we were kids, until he tried to peep in at me ."

"Yeah, you mentioned that.  On bath day."  I laugh. "Can't blame him, I guess."

"Harry!" Frankie hollers and elbows me in the side. "Men can be such varmints," she grumbles.

"I didn't mean it like that—I just meant . . .you're pretty. That's all."  I can feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck.

Where did I get the balls to say that? Fuck. Well, she's bound to know I think that, or we wouldn't be out here right now. I wonder what she thinks about me? Gangly, pigeon-toed, love handles. I don't think she knows about my four nipples yet. Christ.

She thanks me and our eyes meet quickly. I think I see a faint blush on her cheeks, but it's too dark to tell and I look downward at my toes.

"OH, Harry! Look!" Frankie squeals.

Frankie's pole is bending and her line is tight. I throw down my pole and grab the bucket.

"You got it okay? Can you pull it in?" I ask in excitement.

"I don't know. It feels like a big one!"

I stand there like an idiot watching as her face changes from one expression to another. She grins, then her eyebrows furrow in concentration, her tongue sticking out a bit from the corner of her mouth.

For some reason, all I can think about is peach pie and the soft sweet wetness of warm peaches on my tongue, and then—

"Harry!" Frankie screams and laughs at the same time, tearing her eyes away from the trout that's splashing around on the surface of the creek water and casts a gander at me as I stand there frozen.

I stutter for a moment, unable to speak. Then something snaps in me and I spring to life, and throw on a farming glove so I can grab her line without getting burnt or sliced from the string. I wade into the creek so I'm closer to the end of the line and grab the string with my gloved hand, taking the pressure off Frankie.

She jumps in the edge of the creek and steps quickly over to me, holding her skirt up at her knees above the water. I hold her fishing line with my gloved hand, and with the other I drag the bucket in the water to fill it.

Frankie has knotted her skirt up on the side somehow to keep it dry. Handing her the bucket, I feel a surge as her hand touches mine when she takes the handle. Amazingly, I'm able to unhook the fish without poking myself and place it in the water bucket.  Frankie grins from ear to ear, and I do too.

There's a rustle in the grass and we look to the creek bank, only to see my fishing pole sliding toward the water. Shit!

"Harry, you got one too!  Get it, Harry!"

Frankie cheers as I dive onto the creek bank just in time to grab my pole and begin wrestling with my trout. This one is a strong 'un, that's for sure. I can see Frankie wading out of the creek from the corner of my eye. She places both the bucket and her pole near the blanket, and comes over by me, standing so close I can smell her. She smells fresh even though I know she was cleaning out the hen house earlier today.

"Are you gonna bring him in yet, or what Harry?" She laughs, snapping my attention back to the fish on the line.  "Let me hold the pole and you go get him," Frankie offers.

I don't let go of the pole until I'm sure Frankie has a tight hold on it. "You got it? This one might be even bigger!" I ask.

"I got it, Harry!  Go get him!"

I grab the bucket and set it on the bank, before tackling the fishing line. This one's jumping around way more than the first one did, so it takes a couple tries before I can catch ahold of the line. As I try to get him off the hook, that sucker fights me every step of the way. Frankie wades in with the bucket and this darned fish is flopping around against my chest trying to escape.

"Oh, no you don't!" I grunt out, arguing with a fish as his flopping covers me in water.

Frankie reaches my side, opening the lid to the bucket. "Put him in, quick! Don't lose him!"

She holds the bucket close enough and by some act of God, I'm able to get the strong-willed fish inside, with Frankie closing the lid behind him.