The sun was already reaching its zenith for the day. In a couple more hours, dusk would creep in, spreading a soft, Autumn glow over the canal. Sunset was always his favorite time of day down here.
Sitting on the pale, recycled, resin bench, legs spread wide and arms thrown open across the back rest to discourage people from trying to sit with him, Carl watched the fat boy with his too long, red hair struggle with his catch. He had managed to land fourteen fish in a little over an hour. That had to be some sort of record. As many times as he and JC had fished this area when they were boys, neither of them could boast of having caught fourteen in such a short time. It looked like catching them was only half the battle though. This kid was really working to get those fish home without losing anything.
Half-filled with water and bullheads, the blue bucket was too heavy. Alternating between dragging it a few inches, then trying to lift it while not losing the fishing pole clenched under his arm or the small gray tackle box balanced on the lid just under the handle, he battled his way along the path toward home.
Spotting the uniformed officer walking leisurely toward the him from the opposite direction, he thought this might be a battle the kid was going to lose. Shifting slightly to ease the growing numbness in his butt, he crossed one leg over a knee and waited. From his vantage point on the other side of the canal, he would have a clear view.