Muskie Attack (An Up North Adventure) (12 page)

Master Fishermen

Griffy could hardly wait to see the morning paper. He and Pike huddled around it, both holding up a side. “Kids Dethrone Freshwater King,”
The Minong Ledger
’s front-page headline proclaimed. The picture accompanying the article showed the five-foot, seventy-pound muskie winched high in the air by its snout. Pike and Griffy flanked “the King” on each side with Gil kneeling in front holding Spinner.

Griffy smiled broadly.

“Look at us,” Pike gushed. He blew on his knuckles and wiped them on his shirt with pride. “We’re celebrities.”

“Famous, even,” Griffy raved.

“Don’t let it go to your heads,” Gil admonished as she walked up behind them. She took a look at the newspaper.

“Wow, we are famous,” she gasped happily.

And their fame grew in the days following the muskie’s heroic capture. Griffy couldn’t believe all the people who wanted autographs or pictures taken with them. Everywhere they went, folks clapped them on the back, shook their hands, and asked to hear about their battle with the ferocious beast and to see their battle wounds. Griffy showed off the twelve stitches in his left arm. Pike, on crutches, received more sympathy for his stitched-up, bandaged-up right thigh.

Even more, to Griffy’s amazement, Minong organized its first Muskie Festival, complete with a muskie queen and court, in honor of the town’s newly proclaimed master fishermen. Taxidermists worked day and night preparing a replica of the giant muskie for the festival’s opening parade. Pike, Gil, and Griffy nervously watched as hundreds of people turned out and stood five deep to see the two-hour event.

“Can you believe all these people are here for us?” Gil asked in awe.

No more invisible kid
, Griffy thought. Now he had more attention than he’d ever imagined. And his mom had sounded proud of him when he’d called and told her about battling the muskie and saving Pike. She really had. There was only one problem.

“Hey, look there!” His thoughts were interrupted by Gil blurting out, “It’s Mr. Hanover.”

The three kids rushed through the crowd to greet him.

“Well, you caught yourselves a humdinger. Yes, siree. Louis Spray couldn’t have done better himself!” Mr. Hanover shook his head in amazement.

“We couldn’t have done it without you, Mr. Hanover,” Pike acknowledged.

“Nonsense,” Mr. Hanover countered. “Equipment’s not even half of it. Skill won’t even get you there. It’s moxie. And the three of you’ve got buckets of it.”

Gil, Pike, and Griffy laughed at that and thanked Mr. Hanover for the compliment.

“So, now, son.” Mr. Hanover turned his attention to Griffy. “This has got to be an extra special day for you. First trip to Wisconsin and already in the hall of fame. Where are those folks of yours? I’d like to congratulate them.”

“They’re not here. They’re in Chicago,” Griffy replied. “Too busy to make it up.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Mr. Hanover huffed. “That’s a load of hooey if you ask me.”

“They’ve got deadlines, meetings, business trips,” Pike explained, “that sort of thing.”

Griffy smiled sadly and shook his head. “Naw. That’s really not it. Thanks, Pike.” He knew his friend was trying to help him. “Bottom line is they’re just not interested. Not in me. Not in what I do. They were excited on the phone, and that’s good enough—for now. Maybe someday I’ll do something worthwhile to them.”

“Someday! Someday!” Mr. Hanover cried out in disbelief. “I don’t come to town for just anyone, young man. You are worthwhile now. And don’t you forget it. It’s not your fault your parents are too blind to see it.”

“That’s true, Griffy.” Gil nodded. “Who needs parents when you’ve got us and a few dozen cheerleaders?” She pointed toward several groups of teenage girls with short skirts and pom-poms making their way through the crowd.

“Oh no! We’re gonna be late,” Pike gasped. “The parade’s about to start.”

“Get yourselves going then,” Mr. Hanover ordered with a smile and waved them good-bye.

Griffy hesitated a moment. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Mr. Hanover gave him a wink and a reassuring nod. “I’ll see you from the sidelines.”

The Muskie Festival parade had it all, Griffy marveled: marching bands, cheerleaders, and baton twirlers; fire, police, and sanitation departments; prizewinning horses, pigs, and sheep—all participated. But it was the National Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame float the crowd had come to see.

Pike, Griffy, and Gil sat atop the float in
The Lucky 13
surrounded by iridescent, blue-green streamers that waved and glistened like lake water. The replica of their record-breaking catch hung behind them.

Andy Gibson, not one to miss a promotional opportunity, stood behind the fish yelling to the crowd like a sideshow peddler and throwing out cards inviting them to see the
real
record-breaking muskie—for a fee—now lying in state in the DNR’s walk-in freezer.

“Seventy pounds! Two-inch, razor-sharp teeth! Prehistoric! Come see the beast!”

Spinner was not forgotten. The dog ran alongside the float barking and jumping up to catch the candy Pike, Griffy, and Gil threw out to the crowd.

“Sweet chedda cheese. It doesn’t get any better than this.” Pike smiled as he tossed out a handful of jawbreakers and gum.

Gil waved her best beauty queen wave and giggled.

Griffy held their double-eyed cane pole and cast it repeatedly toward the front of the float. He was trying really hard to enjoy his moment in the spotlight, but his thoughts kept drifting to his parents and to disappointment. He wished they could see him up here on top of this float. Lost in his thoughts, Griffy cast the pole again. Sudden movement on the parade route ahead, however, caught his eye and brought him back. A security guard was scuffling with some guy in the street. The man wouldn’t step back to the curb. He was arguing with the guard and struggling to get around him.

“Hey, look.” Pike poked Griffy. “We’ve got a stalker.”

Griffy and Gil chuckled as their float glided slowly toward the scene. Griffy paused mid-cast and did a quick double take.
Wait a minute. That’s no stalker.

“That’s my dad!” he cried out excitedly and stood up waving madly. “Dad! Dad!”

“Huh?” Pike asked, looking toward the man and then back to Griffy. “Hey, cool,” he finally exclaimed. Then he and Gil stood and waved too.

Griffy’s dad waved wildly back. “That’s my son!” he yelled, pointing at Griffy.

The security guard reluctantly stepped aside. Griffy’s dad ran up to the float and high-fived his son.

“No, it doesn’t get any better this,” Griffy beamed. “Sweet chedda cheese. It really, really doesn’t.”

See You Next Summer

It was the end of August and time for Griffy to head back to Chicago. He loaded his gear into Uncle Dell’s SUV, looking very different than the boy who had arrived two months earlier. He was thinner, more muscular, and covered in scrapes and bruises. He also stood a little taller and walked with an air of confidence and determination. A thin scar running down his arm would stay with him for the rest of his life and serve as a reminder of his first great outdoor adventure: the day he fought a world record muskie and won.

Griffy sighed and adjusted his new camouflage baseball cap emblazoned with the insignia “Master Fisherman.” Pike, wearing the same cap, limped over, careful not to put too much weight on his injured leg. The doctor just gave him permission to stop using crutches—after much pleading on Pike’s part.

“Hey, I’m glad your dad came up,” Pike said.

“Yeah, me too,” Griffy replied, “even though it was only for a day. We had some fun together. It was good. And get this. He wants me to save my part of the prize money—all of it—for college. Yeah, right.” Griffy pulled at the brim of his baseball cap. “I’m thinking new fishing gear and a lot of Tremblay’s candy.”

Pike laughed and nodded. “I hear ya. So, I’ll see you next summer, right?”

“Oh, sure. I’ll be here.”

“Good,” Pike grinned mischievously. “I’ve already started planning our next adventure.” Pike’s eyes sparkled in a way Griffy now knew meant trouble.

“Oh, no. Now what?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

“Next summer,” Pike answered. Then he turned and started to hobble away.

“Come on,” Griffy pleaded after him. “What? What is it?”

Pike turned back and shrugged innocently. “I’ll see you next summer.”