A Rod UFLI Foundations Lesson 93

Alex held up her brand-new fishing rod with a wide grin. Her jaw set firm. Three sticks. Two bits of string. One perfect rod. 'Steve!' she called. 'Last one to the water is a rotten pufferfish!'

Steve gawked at Alex's rod. Then he looked at his own hands. Empty. 'Hang on,' he said. 'I need a rod too.' 'So make one!' said Alex. 'Sticks and string are close by.' She cast her line into the water with a flick. 'I'll wait. But not for long.'

Steve ran to the beach where they kept their stuff. He would grab sticks and string, craft a rod, and be back before Alex caught a single fish. But the pile was almost empty. A few bits of stone and ore. Not a single stick. 'Where did it all go?' Steve said.

Steve saw a far land thick with trees. Plenty of sticks over there. But that was a long, long swim away. There had to be sticks closer than that. 'I will not swim to that far land for a stick,' he said to nobody.

He tried the land by the village next. They always got good crafting stuff from it. But it was empty. Not a stick left. Alex! Alex had hauled off every last scrap. Alex, with her brand-new fishing rod. Steve's jaw went stiff.

Then Steve saw an old stone bin tucked into the hillside. He leaned in for a look. And there, hanging on the wall like it had been waiting just for him, was a fishing rod! Steve snatched it off the wall. 'Yes!'

He held the rod up to the light. It was full of flaws. The string was worn. The stick was cracked. One good tug from a fish and it would snap. Steve sighed. 'Better than nothing.' He tucked the rod under his arm and kept looking. There had to be sticks and string close by.

Steve trawled the land for sticks and string. He checked the tall grass. He even shook each plant, just in case. Nothing. Nothing. And more nothing. The sky went gray. The flawed old rod was all he had.

Then Steve saw a stick poking up from a pit in the dirt. Another rod! Steve vaulted in to grab it. But this rod was cracked right in the middle. One tug and it would split in two. Steve's jaw fell. 'No, no, no!' he said. Two rods, and not one could catch a thing.

The sun was sinking. Steve yawned and trudged home with a cracked rod in each hand. Two rotten rods. Zero fish. One very long day. Alex was going to make fun of him when she saw the rods.

But when Alex saw the rods, she did not make fun. She gasped. 'Steve. Steve. Give me those!' She snatched them up and launched herself at the crafting table, fingers flying. 'This bit is still good. And this bit. Yes, this is going to work. This is going to more than work!'

Alex held up a rod she had made from the best bits of both old rods. She gave it to Steve. 'There. We are even.' Steve gave a grin. 'Even? I hunted for rods all day. I will win!' Alex took her own rod, jaw set, and walked to the door. 'Best fish wins. Go!'