Piranha fishing

After much consideration Tom discarded the idea of defrosting his
mum's chicken and settled with the bag of leftovers he had scrounged
from the butcher. He slung his bag over his shoulder then yanked the
rod timidly to ensure it was secure on the cross bar of his bike.
Pushing off his leg flew over the saddle a little too hastily and as
well as a sharp shock to his boyhood he heard the clatter of his bad
packing behind him and feared for the state of his packed lunch. The
shortest route to the river was to follow his road but he ducked down
the first left and headed into the road that ran parallel. Every week
he told himself it was for that extra bit of exercise that he rode this
longer route and passed by Penny's house at the end of her cul-de-sac.
He longed for her to be outside, to wave to him. Then he longed for her
to smile and ask where it was he was going, he longed to explain to her
the workings of his mind which she would find irresistible. Then he
realised that he was approaching her house and staring too intently
towards any window she might be at. He sped up, looked at his pedals
and his wheels and breathed nervously until her house was passed and he
could silently curse his luck for not accidentally bumping into her. He
could turn back, pass again. But, as always he decided that would be
too desperate and she would suspect his unusual route; or worse she
might have seen him pass the first time and know that he immediately
turned around. His mind on Penny and his ideas of her impressions of
him Tom hardly noticed the rest of his cycle ride. He untied his rod
and careful not to catch his calf on a stray pedal dropped his bike
onto the grass. He glanced at the watch that, unadjusted from his
fathers wrist, slipped around his own, and looked for the sun.

At 11.05 on a Saturday morning the shadow of the bridge touches
A rock that sits the length of my rod from the river bank. That's
where I'd sit. I'd put my lunch on one side and my tackle on the
other and sort out my line. That's the most important element if
you're going to catch a piranha Tom. The hook needs to be tied
as securely as you can so as never to come loose, but the weight,
there's where the real skill is. Only a few of us knew this Tom,
that's why only a few of us ever caught them. The weight must
be tied loosely so as to give no resistance to the tugging of
twenty
hungry fish. If there's resistance, you see Tom, it puts all the
pressure on the knot you tied the hook on with, and in the end
that
will break; if the weights loose it will break first and the line
can
swing with the pack of piranhas. Now Tom, although the sun wont
move while you're sat fishing, the earth will, and that's why you
need to re-cast every ten minutes if you want to stand a chance.
See, piranha, they're built to survive and so they shimmer. They
shimmer like the sun at the edge of a shadow; so it's there that
they hide. If you want to catch one Tom, you need to re-cast to
keep your bait hovering at the edge of the shadow. So, once my
line was rigged I would be ready for a good afternoons fishing.
Sat there in the shade of the bridge, I could watch the world.
I could see the whole town go across that bridge, but they could
never see me. I could sit and watch the water glisten and watch
for the red tint of a piranha's back, and wonder if they could
see
me. You know the reason we can catch piranha Tom? It's because
we've got patience. Your Grandad had it, I've got it, and you'll
have it soon Tom. That's our advantage over them. We can wait,
we can sit with a peaceful soul and wait. They need to feed. Have
you heard it called a "feeding frenzy" Tom? That's because it is.
When piranhas eat it's a frenzy, twenty of them fighting over one
victim, fighting with each other. All they see is blood and teeth
and there is no peace there. All you can see though is vibrant
colour as the sun flashes off their furious backs, and Tom,
that's
a sight with all the beauty of the sunset. I used to sit with my
rod
steady in one hand and your Grandma's sandwiches in the other,
waiting for that sight.

Tom waited till his watch read 11.05 and then sat down at the rock. He
unpacked with his lunch on one side, nearest the bridge, and his
fishing tackle on the other. As he finished the knot on his weight to
his own satisfaction, he glanced up at the bridge to see a red car
drive slowly over the thin road. It had been built before the need for
two cars to traverse this part of the river in opposite directions, and
at the same time and another red car waited patiently on the other side
of the bridge, and then began its journey. Tom wished for a second that
it was Penny's and that she would see him there. If she were to see him
and wonder about what he was doing, maybe she would ask him about it
and then he would have an opportunity to explain. Just the thought that
she might care made him smile before he dismissed it as pathetic and
cast his rod.
He had cast his rod seven times, and was on the third of the
sandwiches his mum had made him when Tom glanced at the bridge to see
two bikes approaching. He grinned at the young woman on the first bike
as she approached when he saw the head of a dog looking out of her bike
basket. As she and the man on the bike behind her reached the top of
the bridge's hump they peered over its edge to see how Tom's fishing
was going. Tom could see the dog and thought it looked like he too was
straining to see from the confines of his basket. Suddenly, as if to
prove the point the dog jumped from the bike and over the side of the
bridge. Tom, in shock looked back at his rod to stop himself dropping
it, and caught sight of a red tint at the shadows edge before the dog
landed with a splash in front of him. His father had been right, it was
a sight with all the beauty of the sunset. The dog had disappeared into
the river and Tom was mesmerised by the vibrant colour of the bubbling
waters. The frenzy ended with speed and soon only red survived of the
colours that had been produced. The man of the bicyclists had arrived
beside Tom, having found his way down from the bridge, and looked at
the red of the river. Tom was too amazed at what he had seen to offer
any help to him, and soon seeing his search for the dog would be
fruitless the man walked slowly back to where he would no doubt find
his devastated girlfriend and have to break the news to her.

Do you know how I know there are only twenty piranhas under
the bridge Tom? It's because when your Grandad fished there,
there were twenty two, and he caught one of them, and placed its
body under the rock he was sat on. That left twenty one for me
to fish, and I caught one and placed its body under the rock I
was
sat on. So Tom, if you go piranha fishing there will only be
twenty
left for you to catch.

When Tom had seen the man and woman leave slowly back over the bridge
he put down his sandwich and carefully reeled in his line. He couldn't
believe his luck. One of the piranhas must have confused his bait for
the food he was fighting over with the other nineteen, and there he was
clamped firm around the steel of Tom's hook. When he was sure it was
dead he carefully removed his hook, lifted up the rock he had been sat
on and placed the fish underneath it. He packed up his kit and sat on
the rock finishing his sandwich before he decided to make his way back
home. If he went past Penny's house maybe she would be outside and he'd
get to talk to her.