Revenge of the Happy Campers by Jennifer Ziegler

Author:Jennifer Ziegler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2017-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

This is all you have?” I asked, lifting one of the three cane fishing poles Mrs. Kimbro had set on the counter in front of us.

Mrs. Kimbro nodded. “That’s all I’m able to rent out to folks your age.”

“But … it’s just a stick with a piece of string attached,” I pointed out. “There’s no reel.”

“That’s right.”

“But … my friend Lucas, back home, has a lightweight silvery rod and reel that can catch anything. He says it costs more than his bicycle — and his bicycle is super fancy.”

“It sure is,” Darby mumbled. She sat farther down the counter, feet dangling from the stool, her sleepy head resting on her arms.

“It’s like a bike from the future,” Delaney said. She stood behind Darby and was swinging a fishing bucket around. “If the future is fast and gleamy.”

“I’m sure it would cost more,” Mrs. Kimbro said. “And that’s exactly why these are the only poles we rent out to young people.” She grinned one of her sympathetic grins at me. “Sorry, sweetheart. I hope you understand.”

“Don’t worry, Dawnie,” Aunt Jane said. She sat at the counter on the other side of me, looking through an old photo album that Mrs. Kimbro had handed her. “You can still catch plenty of fish with a cane pole. I’ve done it lots of times.”

“I guess,” I said with a sigh.

“I’ll give you pointers,” Aunt Jane said. “And you can use my rod and reel and I’ll show you how to use it, too.”

“Um … Aunt Jane? No offense but … this is a club thing … with the other campground kids. We kind of want to do it on our own. You know. For the experience.”

Aunt Jane tilted her head and peered at me closely, like she could see into my brain. “You mean like when you set up the tent by yourselves?”

“Yes. Just like that,” I said. “Plus, weren’t you going to help Mrs. Kimbro update her website?”

“Oh, honey, that’s not pressing at all,” Mrs. Kimbro said. “Your Aunt Jane is here to be with you. She and I can catch up later.”

“It’s fine. Y’all go ahead and visit.” I tried to sound casual. “We won’t be too long.”

“Yeah,” Delaney chimed in. “We’ll only be fishing for two hours.”

I turned and made bug eyes at her to remind her that we didn’t want Aunt Jane to know about the contests. “Something like that,” I said.

“Well, all right,” Aunt Jane said. “At least let me help you with your supplies.”

A few minutes later, we set off for the old causeway freshly slathered in sunblock and wearing hats. Darby carried an empty bucket in one hand. In her other, she carried Aunt Jane’s cooler, which was full of water bottles, pimento cheese sandwiches, and a plastic container of night crawlers to use as bait. I carried the three cane poles and had Aunt Jane’s watch and a tape measure in my shorts pockets.

Delaney, meanwhile, carried a big #3 galvanized washtub that banged against her legs as she walked.

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