Escape with the Dream Maker by Gilbert L. Morris Page B

were two toggle switches. The one connected to Josh’s side was flipped to the “On” position; the other, which was attached to his own headset, was on “Off.”
    Wash put his finger on the switch and muttered, “Well, here I come, Josh, wherever you are . . .”

10
“You’re Not Real!”
    T he red-and-white cork floated serenely, bobbing slightly on the waves of the small creek. The blue sky and brilliant yellow sun reflected on the surface, breaking it up into long, wavy lines of light.
    Suddenly the cork disappeared with a loud
plop.
    Josh Adams had been leaning back, dreamily holding the fishing pole lightly in his hands. The warm sun and the soft breeze and the murmuring of the creek had almost put him to sleep. Now, as the pole bent in his hand, he straightened up with a yell.
    â€œLook out!” The line jerked madly, drawn by the frantic struggles of a fish trying to escape. Josh’s straw hat fell off, and as the pole bent farther he yelled, “Got you! You won’t get away this time.”
    Josh moved down the bank, giving the fish line to keep him from breaking it. It was such a powerful fish that he was afraid it would snap the pole, but finally he drew it in. His heart almost stopped as he saw the size of the bass.
    Without breathing, he reached over and stuck his thumb inside the massive mouth. The fish bit down hard, but Josh didn’t care. He fell over backwards and gave the fish a heave. Instantly he was up, running to where the fish was flopping, its silver scales flashing in the sunlight. Josh picked up the fish and removed the hook. The bass fought madly, but Josh held it tight.
    â€œMust weigh five pounds at least! The biggest I ever caught!” Josh breathed.
    Any fishing after that would have been anticlimactic, so he got his box of crickets and another of worms, wound up his line, and started back toward the road. He walked through the woods easily, his long legs pumping, his straw hat tilted back on his head. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a blue-and-white checked shirt open at the throat. His worn sneakers flapped as he moved.
    He came out of the woods onto the road. Turning right, he found his bicycle and carefully tied the fish across the handlebars. Balancing his pole and stringing the bait buckets, he shoved off and pumped his way along. He whistled a song everyone else had stopped whistling a year ago, but he didn’t care.
    Josh Adams was happy. He pulled up in front of a white frame house and pushed the bicycle to the backyard, where he leaned it against a sycamore tree. He untied the fish and admired it. “Wait until Mom sees you! This’ll feed everybody tonight.”
    Going to the door, he called out, “Mom, look what I got.”
    Mrs. Adams opened the screen door and looked out. She smiled. “Why, Josh, that’s the biggest fish you ever brought home.”
    â€œStart making hush puppies, Mom. Make enough for Dad and me both. He never leaves me enough.”
    â€œAll right.” Mrs. Adams laughed. “You dress that fish. Your dad will be home early today.”
    Josh quickly took the fish to where he usually cleaned his catches. Pulling a knife out of a tackle box, he quickly filleted the fish and admired the pinkish meat. “Boy, I’m sorry to spoil your day, but you’re gonna go down pretty good.”
    By the time Josh had showered and come downstairs, he heard the front door slam.
    â€œHi, Josh.” His father grinned and threw his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
    â€œI got one for you. What’s yours?”
    â€œYou first.”
    â€œWell, I caught the biggest bass I ever got. We’re gonna have fish and hush puppies and fries. Mom’s cooking them right now. Now, what’s your surprise?”
    â€œWe’re going to the ball game tonight over at Bluff City.”
    â€œThat’s great,