Once upon a time there lived a boy named Luke, who, like all boys at the age of ten, was extremely adventurous. Throughout the entire school year he constantly looked forward to the last day of term, when school broke up and the summer holidays began. He loved those long warm and deliriously happy days, when he was set free from the constraints of school, of having to concentrate on the lessons that he found so terribly boring. During those languid sultry days, Luke wandered about endlessly, exploring, seeking adventure throughout the fascinating countryside where he lived.

Being an only child, Luke was quite content with his own company. He never feared of going out on his own, and he never yearned for the company of others when he was out exploring. If anything, being an only child helped Luke to see the wonders surrounding him, the wonders that so many of us fail to see, because of the distractions created by brothers, sisters and friends who oftentimes see life in a far different perspective than we do.

Luke saw everything; he saw the birds and the butterflies, the moths and the caterpillars, and even the clouds high up in the sky as they drifted lazily past. He also saw bats; he loved watching and studying these strange nocturnal creatures, where they were hidden away in dark places, evading the light. He even saw the ants as they marched past him in silence beneath his very feet. Red and black; he noticed both kinds, and especially so when they were at war, when they fought each other to the bitter death. Sometimes, in an effort to stop their fighting, he took out his magnifying glass and, focussing the sun’s light, burned them to a crisp. Then feeling guilty afterwards he promised never to do it again.

This wonderful countryside that Luke was so fortunate in having close to his home had an air of yesteryear about it. It was a lazy backwater where nothing much ever happened, and although this meant Luke had a safe and carefree childhood, he sometimes yearned, sometimes longed for something really exciting to happen to him. He would oftentimes lay awake at night, imagining he was setting out on a fantastic adventure, exploring new lands and fighting dangerous foes. He so admired those children in the story ‘The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe’ who found a doorway to a secret world in the back of their wardrobe. “Oh, why can’t something like that happen to me?” he frequently whispered to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

The local river was one of Luke’s favourite locations; he loved to spend hours sitting on its grassy banks, dangling a hook into the passing waters. It was on one such sunny summer’s afternoon his adventure began…

Feeling a tug on the line, Luke sat to attention and began reeling it in. The line tugged again, showing the fish’s annoyance at being hooked. Concentrating on his impending catch, Luke reeled in the line, being careful to do it slowly, tentatively, to avoid snapping it like he had already done on so many previous occasions. It tugged again on the line, but much harder this time. Luke gritted his teeth and concentrated totally on landing his catch, for it was surely going to be a big one.

Drops of perspiration trickled down Luke’s forehead, from the enormous effort he was putting in, trying to land his fish, but after fifteen minutes of struggling, and he really was struggling, Luke was no closer to landing it. “Come on, will you,” he said, “I want to eat you for my supper.”
As if in response to his words the fish tugged even harder on the line, and Luke feared it might snap at any moment.

“Come on, easy does it,” he whispered, “and I’ll be seeing what you look like.”
The line suddenly went slack, and Luke feared it had broken and his catch escaped.
Then he saw it; Luke saw the creature’s huge face, staring out from the murky waters, directly in front of him. And it was ugly; it was so very ugly he pulled back his feet, in fright, fearing they might at any moment be bitten clean off.

Despite this fear, Luke began again to reel in the line, but he had no sooner begun turning the handle when a tremendous splash signalled his catch had no intention of going just yet, not without giving him the fight of his life.

It was another fifteen minutes before Luke saw the fish’s face again, and when he did it was tantalisingly close to the water’s edge. At this point Luke was so tired all that he wanted was to have it over with, so making one huge, last effort he began reeling in the remainder of the line, hoping to finally land his catch and take a well eared rest.

The fish, however, saw things quite differently, and although it gave the impression that Luke was winning the battle, allowing him to reel it in ever closer, the war was still far from won.
With his landing net ready to scoop up his prized catch, Luke studied the fish’s face in full detail, and it was so ugly.
Pulling hard on the line Luke struggled to land the fish. “Just a few more inches and I will have you,” he whispered.

Then he saw it, Luke saw the full ugly head of the creature as it finally emerged from the dark murky waters. And it was most definitely not a fish!
Almost dropping his rod in fright, Luke struggled to regain control of the situation (including his lost decorum), staring wildly at the thing emerging from the water in front of him. “It’s an eel,” he spluttered in shock, “and the biggest, meanest one that I have ever seen!”
And it was an eel; an eel so large a good portion of its body was still in the water while three feet of it was set firmly upon dry land.

If Luke had thought the battle to land the eel was almost over, he was in for a rude awakening, for the slippery eel had plans of its own.
Holding on so tightly to his fishing rod, Luke struggled against the strength of the aquatic abomination whose beady, staring, unblinking eyes were fixed doggedly on him. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

All of a sudden the eel began winding itself around the long grasses growing along the banks of the river. Rolling its body around and around these grasses, the eel used them as leverage point from which to gain control of the situation. And now that it had an anchorage point, a position of strength from which it could act, it wasted no time in doing just that. Using its enormous strength to pull against the fishing line and, ultimately, the hook, the eel put on the fight of its life.
“Oh no you don’t,” said Luke, struggling with as much determination as the eel. “I’ve tried too hard, to be losing you now.”

However, possessing as much determination as the eel was simply no match against its sheer brute strength, and Luke soon discovered this with a vengeance. Now that the eel had a firm foothold, it pulled on the line with such a force, Luke thought it would most definitely snap – but it didn’t.
The eel continued to pull and to pull. In stubborn defiance Luke held on to his fishing rod with all off his might. He held his ground but he had no hope of winning against such strength. With so much opposing force going into this epic struggle, something just had to give – and it soon did.

I have already made it abundantly clear that the line didn’t snap. So what did happen? I will tell you now, and, believe me, forty years on Luke still recounts this tale with as much excitement as the day it happened…
The eel pulled so hard on the line it straightened out the hook. It actually straightened it out so much it was able to slip off and escape to freedom.

Despite fishing in the same river for many more years, Luke never again saw that huge eel, but he kept that straightened out hook, as a souvenir.

The End?

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© Gerrard T Wilson 2008