Season TWO – Episode 21 – “Capture the Kraken”
Rusty mended the floating fly line once, put the dry fly in a direct path of the Monfuckingtana state record rainbow trout, and pursed down on the right side of his lower lip. Thousand-one… Thousand-two… Thousand-three…
On three he twitched the rod tip and watched the magnificent fish eat. Then he pulled parallel to the water line and felt its jaw receive the hook. Game on!
The first run down river put immense pressure on the Hatch Iconic “Capture the Kraken” Fly Reel. By quickly tweaking the drag, Rusty was able to protect the tippet and manage control over the fish.
Faster current greeted him midriver with a depth that now exceeded his waistline. He was neither gaining nor losing distance, but happy the click and pawl braking system on the fly reel offered time tested precision.
Then… with angler leaning into the backbone of the rod… The massive trout changed directions and charged up the river toward its opponent. This counter move of 180-degrees unpredictable caused an immediate chain reaction throwing slack to Rusty’s line and off balanced footing to his Simms Pro G4 Powerlock wading boots with Vibram soles.
“Down goes Frasier” was the call by Howard Cosell as the fish and the fisherman crossed paths underneath the surface of the Windrush River. Who had been played the most was then confirmed as the rainbow trout gave a wink and a nod, seconds before Rusty’s skull crashed into a large boulder that was part of a bedload resting on the riverbed.
Sally was high on the ridge saddled on a horse named Sincerity. Next to her was another American Quarter horse… But this one was Champagne color… An extremely rare variation of gold.
The saddle had been procured from a skilled leather craftsman. There was a pattern traced into the raw hide featuring a cowboy and cowgirl holding hands and riding off into the sunset. The inscription across the cantle of the saddle read: “I’ll ride to the ends of the earth with you.”
Rusty took the reins from Sally and together they rode southeast toward the Crow Indian Reservation. Along the route they encountered a dome-shaped structure built from saplings and covered with blankets. Inside they could hear a drum beat and they entered without caution.
Surrounded by intense heat they joined a ceremony of positive energy that celebrated the bonding of two soul sisters. This was more than a typical friendship and their kindred spirit was palpable.
Then there was singing, and a profound level of understanding encompassed the tent, along with multiple rounds of steam. Ellie was also in the lodge and sat with them in a circle around the central pit.
The ship raced down the back side of a sixty-foot swell and when they reached the trough, saltwater erupted over the bow and cast the crew from its deck. This wall of water had been generated by a creature never once before seen off the coast of Australia.
The team of fishermen regained their footing and raced back to their angling posts aboard the 171-foot all-aluminum Project 406. The six-deck yacht, from Royal Huisman and Vripack yacht design, is the world’s largest sportfishing vessel. And at the helm was Sally Squatsnfishes peering through the glass of the captain’s tower.
Rusty was lightheaded. Was he seasick?
The psychedelics were wearing off and he was losing focus. He felt moisture on his forehead and the snow in which he lay was apple red. This was accompanied by a headache, nausea, and ringing in his ears.
“Can you… Can you hear… Rusty, can you hear me?” demanded Sally.
And he responded, “It’s ok. I know. I know the truth. I know you must…”
“Rusty… Be still… You’ve been injured. Were you on top of this rock? Did you fall… Stay with me Rusty… Stay with me!”
“Send Ellie for help. Ellie can help us” he murmured.
“She’s not here Rusty. It’s me. It’s me, Sally. I’m here. I’m always here.”
Rusty was pouring Champagne and toasting the wedding. The bride lifted her veil and there was an expressionless look covering her face. There was no emotion. No visible signs of happiness, sadness, fear, anger, regret, or any other imaginable feeling.
Jackie Loonsuckle laid motionless. The echo of the .243 Winchester was pounding in Rusty’s ears. His headache was big enough to kill an elephant and he was vomiting from the nausea. The smirk was gone from Jackie’s face.
Sally used her cowgirl scarf and applied pressure to the trauma. She could see lively blood cells in the snow attempting to clot… Then go cold.
There was no service on her cell phone. The reception was minimal near the river bottom. She would have to get to higher ground to phone for help or try to load Rusty into the Polaris Ranger on her own.
Rusty shook hands with Professor Cosmoid Scale and watched Sally board a plane. His arms and legs felt weak.
“Sally, it’s ok.” His speech was slurred. “I’ve seen the truth… I know… I know you must “capture the Kraken.”
“We gotta go Rusty! Stay with me! Stay awake!” she cried. Then his set of unequal pupils attempted to hide behind closed eyelids.
– To Be Continued –