LJ Idol: What Really Matters
"Old Man Torvald? I have your thread."
"Thank you, little Ellie. You can put it here on the table."
Elana put the bits of brightly colored thread next to a pile of chopped-up feathers and a small cup of beads. She climbed up on a rickety chair to better watch Torvald sort through a box of hooks. "What are you doing?"
"Making flies for fishing." He spread out the hooks he selected in a row.
"I thought you were supposed to use worms."
"That's how you fish on the mainland," Torvald explained. "We don't have worms up here on the Isles. Too cold. Ground's too hard."
"Oh." Elana thought about that for a minute. "I guess that's why nothing grows up here. What's that?" Torvald had opened up another box and began putting together a strange contraption.
"Magnifying glass so I can see what I'm doing." He set up a board with a stick in the middle and began screwing on a large circle of glass attached to another stick to the end. "This is delicate work."
"Can I watch?"
"As long as you don't jiggle the table," Torvald replied.
Elana sat very still on the chair, her violet eyes wide with attention as Torvald carefully tied bits of feather on a hook with the thread. He threaded a needle and attached the beads to give the fly eyes. When he finished, he let Elana hold it.
"How does this catch fish?" Elana asked, petting it gently.
"They think it's a bug on the water," Torvald explained. "If you want, I can show you. I'm going out to my fishing spot tomorrow if you want to come."
"If Mama will let me," Elana said doubtfully.
"She'll let you," said Torvald. "Tell her I'll give her part of the catch if you come with me."
The next morning Torvald rowed Elana out to his fishing spot. It was a tiny island covered in ice an hour north of their home isle. He set up a couple of stools on the shore with a small heater between them. Elana sat on her stool watching Torvald tie flies onto two fishing rods. He cast one of them and handed the rod to Elana. She held it tightly in both hands.
"Now what?"
Torvald cast the other rod and settled down on his stool. "Now we wait."
Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. Thirty minutes passed. Elana was getting bored. "Are we ever going to catch a fish?"
"Patience," Torvald murmured. "Sometimes they're shy. But they're here. We're right outside their home. Eventually they'll see our bait and go for it. They always do."
Elana counted all the icebergs she could see floating in the northern sea (fifteen). Still no fish.
She tried to count all the different types of pebbles on the shore (too many). Still no fish.
She looked for shapes in the clouds above. Still no fish.
She looked at the sun. Only an hour had gone by.
She sighed. "Are you sure there are fish out here?"
"Patience," Torvald said.
Elana made a moue. Fishing in the ice isles was boring.
Then she felt the rod move. Or did she? No, it did. Something tugged at it. Then the tip began to bend down. "I caught something!" she squealed. She began to reel in her line, but the fish on the end was too strong. Torvald had to help her turn the reel to bring it in. Then his rod began to bend.
Two large grayling lay on the beach. Torvald unhooked them and handed them to Elana to put in the bucket while he rebaited and recast the lines. This time they immediately hooked a fish each. For the next half hour they caught more and more fish until the bucket was overflowing.
"That's enough for today," Torvald said. "We've got enough fish to last both of us a good while."
"That was fun!" Elana said. "It was boring at first, though."
"That's why you need patience," Torvald replied. "That's the most important part of fishing. The fish aren't going to just come and jump into your bucket. You have to be willing to wait. Fish can't be forced. If you try, they'll only run away and you've lost your fishing spot. Life is like that, too. Sometimes you can't do anything but wait. If you try to force things to happen before their time, you'll only make things worse. But if you have patience and wait for the right time, you'll be amazed at what happens."
Elana thought about that as they loaded the boat. "Mama says you have to act or everyone will walk all over you."
"But you have to act at the right time," Torvald said.
"When is the right time?" Elana asked.
"Depends," Torvald said, pushing away from the shore.
"Depends on what?"
"On when the fish decide to go for your bait."
"Thank you, little Ellie. You can put it here on the table."
Elana put the bits of brightly colored thread next to a pile of chopped-up feathers and a small cup of beads. She climbed up on a rickety chair to better watch Torvald sort through a box of hooks. "What are you doing?"
"Making flies for fishing." He spread out the hooks he selected in a row.
"I thought you were supposed to use worms."
"That's how you fish on the mainland," Torvald explained. "We don't have worms up here on the Isles. Too cold. Ground's too hard."
"Oh." Elana thought about that for a minute. "I guess that's why nothing grows up here. What's that?" Torvald had opened up another box and began putting together a strange contraption.
"Magnifying glass so I can see what I'm doing." He set up a board with a stick in the middle and began screwing on a large circle of glass attached to another stick to the end. "This is delicate work."
"Can I watch?"
"As long as you don't jiggle the table," Torvald replied.
Elana sat very still on the chair, her violet eyes wide with attention as Torvald carefully tied bits of feather on a hook with the thread. He threaded a needle and attached the beads to give the fly eyes. When he finished, he let Elana hold it.
"How does this catch fish?" Elana asked, petting it gently.
"They think it's a bug on the water," Torvald explained. "If you want, I can show you. I'm going out to my fishing spot tomorrow if you want to come."
"If Mama will let me," Elana said doubtfully.
"She'll let you," said Torvald. "Tell her I'll give her part of the catch if you come with me."
The next morning Torvald rowed Elana out to his fishing spot. It was a tiny island covered in ice an hour north of their home isle. He set up a couple of stools on the shore with a small heater between them. Elana sat on her stool watching Torvald tie flies onto two fishing rods. He cast one of them and handed the rod to Elana. She held it tightly in both hands.
"Now what?"
Torvald cast the other rod and settled down on his stool. "Now we wait."
Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. Thirty minutes passed. Elana was getting bored. "Are we ever going to catch a fish?"
"Patience," Torvald murmured. "Sometimes they're shy. But they're here. We're right outside their home. Eventually they'll see our bait and go for it. They always do."
Elana counted all the icebergs she could see floating in the northern sea (fifteen). Still no fish.
She tried to count all the different types of pebbles on the shore (too many). Still no fish.
She looked for shapes in the clouds above. Still no fish.
She looked at the sun. Only an hour had gone by.
She sighed. "Are you sure there are fish out here?"
"Patience," Torvald said.
Elana made a moue. Fishing in the ice isles was boring.
Then she felt the rod move. Or did she? No, it did. Something tugged at it. Then the tip began to bend down. "I caught something!" she squealed. She began to reel in her line, but the fish on the end was too strong. Torvald had to help her turn the reel to bring it in. Then his rod began to bend.
Two large grayling lay on the beach. Torvald unhooked them and handed them to Elana to put in the bucket while he rebaited and recast the lines. This time they immediately hooked a fish each. For the next half hour they caught more and more fish until the bucket was overflowing.
"That's enough for today," Torvald said. "We've got enough fish to last both of us a good while."
"That was fun!" Elana said. "It was boring at first, though."
"That's why you need patience," Torvald replied. "That's the most important part of fishing. The fish aren't going to just come and jump into your bucket. You have to be willing to wait. Fish can't be forced. If you try, they'll only run away and you've lost your fishing spot. Life is like that, too. Sometimes you can't do anything but wait. If you try to force things to happen before their time, you'll only make things worse. But if you have patience and wait for the right time, you'll be amazed at what happens."
Elana thought about that as they loaded the boat. "Mama says you have to act or everyone will walk all over you."
"But you have to act at the right time," Torvald said.
"When is the right time?" Elana asked.
"Depends," Torvald said, pushing away from the shore.
"Depends on what?"
"On when the fish decide to go for your bait."