Cod Boasts Jolly Phonics · Step 3, Unit 7: /oa/ mixed
Practice Words
Deep in the cold sea lives a cod. Not just any cod. This cod is the fastest, trickiest fish in all the wide sea, and no fisherman can get it. All the fishers in town have seen it. And now not one hunts it.
The cod likes it that way. When a fisherman comes too close, the cod flicks its green fins and slips into the kelp. Not there. Just like that. 'No fisherman can get me,' the cod boasts. And so far, it is right.
The sea is wide and empty. No boats. No nets. No rods. Not one fisherman in sight. The cod beats them all, so nobody tries now. Nobody, that is, but Steve.
Steve stands on the beach and looks at the sea. 'I vow to get that cod,' he says. 'I vow to cook it and eat it for lunch.' He has no rod. He has no net. He has no boat, no line, no bait, and no plan. But Steve has one thing. Steve thinks he can not miss.
Steve jumps right in. No plan. No thinking. Just splash, into the deep blue sea, hands grabbing at nothing. The cod sees him coming from far off. It darts into a hollow log and peeks out as Steve sinks past. Round bits puff from Steve's mouth and rise up in a long trail. 'Wow,' thinks the cod. 'This will be easy.'
Steve swims to the hollow log and peeks inside. Empty. 'Where did it go?' he says, but round bits pop from his mouth and drift up. He looks left. He looks right. He looks up. He looks down below. The deep sea is dark and still all round him. The cod is not there.
Wait. There! A green flash, down low in the kelp. Steve kicks closer, very slowly, very softly. He reaches out his hands. The cod just waits. And waits. Then, zoom! It slips from Steve's hands like wet soap.
Steve chases it to a sand bank. Not there. He checks by a rock. Nothing. He peeks under the kelp. Just sand. 'Come back now!' Steve yells. But no fish follows a yell.
Steve wades out from the sea, dripping wet, with no cod at all. 'That fish,' he groans, 'is smarter than me.' Then he looks down at the sand. And there, right at his feet, is a thing the tide has left.
A bucket! Steve picks it up, and a grin grows on his face. A big, slow, sly grin. 'Cod is faster than me,' he says in a low voice. 'Cod is sneakier than me. But Cod can not stop itself. Cod must come and peek. I bet on it.'
Steve wades back into the sea, sits down low, and does nothing at all. He does not splash. He does not chase. He just sits still with his bucket and waits. One cod swims close. Then two. Then three. They swim round his legs, keen to see what this odd, still lump is. 'Now,' Steve says in a low voice.
Scoop! Steve jumps up and lifts the bucket high, one upset cod flopping inside. 'I did it!' he yells. 'I got a fish with a bucket! Wow!' The cod looks up at Steve. Steve looks down at the cod. 'So,' says Steve. 'Do fish like chips?'
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