Spider Lake by Gregg Hangebrauck

you! I may need a stitch or two when we get on shore, so when you are up to it we better get moving. What a sight that fish was! A fresh-water leviathan! No reason to feel bad about that one not being landed! No sir! That fish was bested in every way by you Ben. You played her perfectly. You had her plum tired, and with a double-sized net you would have landed her for sure!”
    Sam tore off a bit of his shirt sleeve and wrapped it around his injured hand. Ben rowed as fast as he could and before long they were back ashore. As it turned out, Sam did need a couple stitches in each finger. He complained about going to the doctor, but Allie would not allow him to stitch it up himself.
    That night at the screen-porch cocktail party, the two had great fun telling and re-telling the story to every ear that would listen. Sam was so animated that he even allowed himself one scotch and water. The next morning the guests of each cabin had a renewed enthusiasm for fishing, and looking at them all rowing towards the western end of the lake, reminded Sam of the seventh fleet as it headed out on maneuvers.
    Ben had a new respect for the old man. Each time he thought about the whole fishing experience, his thoughts kept coming back to the fact that Sam seemed to know exactly when the fish was going to strike. He thought about all the possible ways Sam might have known. He supposed that Sam must have seen his line twitch, that he had been watching Ben’s line at the time. Ben had to convince himself that Sam was just lucky in his guess.
    The next couple of days Sam stayed mostly in his cabin. Ben delivered his meals as usual, but breakfast and lunch were left mostly uneaten. One evening Sam walked to the main house and knocked on the screen door. Allie answered the door.
    “Hello Sam, how is the hand?”
    “Oh, it is alright Mrs. Fisher. Just a little sore. I’ve had worse.”
    “What can I do for you Sam?”
    “I came to square up with you Mrs. Fisher.”
    “Sam, there is no need for you to—”
    Sam held up his good hand and stopped Allie mid sentence. With his bandaged hand he reached into his vest pocket, and much to Allie’s surprise, he produced four shiny one-ounce gold coins. “Mrs. Fisher, I want to tell you that I appreciate your hospitality.”
    “Oh Sam no. You don’t have—”
    Sam held his hand up again just as before.
    “Mrs. Fisher, if you please, let me finish. I have made the acquaintance of all sorts of people in my life. Some were good and some bad. Mostly they were neither good or bad, just sort of in the middle. I am a person who often gets judged by my shabby appearance. People sight-qualify me before they ever even get to know me. I know by all appearances, I look to be a bum, but the fact is, I am a man of simple needs Mrs. Fisher. I am comfortable in these old clothes. What I’m getting at is you and your husband and your boy could have judged me by my appearance, but you didn’t. You took me in, never asked for a thing. You fed me. Your boy showed me all the respect I could ask for. You even took me to your family saw-bones and got me bandaged up. For all your kindnesses I am grateful. It gives me a renewed faith in humanity. It makes me happy to know there are still good people like you in the world. Lastly, I am sorry for not letting on about having the wherewithal to pay my way. If you remember, I promised to square up with you. I am a man of my word.”
    He handed her the coins. Allie just stood there open mouthed. She didn’t know what to say. “Sam, this is too much. You may need this money.” Was all she could say.
    “Mrs. Fisher, I assure you. I have more than enough. Please do not ask me to take it back. I do have one more favor to ask you.”
    “Sure Sam, what is it you want?”
    Sam reached once again into his pocket and pulled out another gold coin. “I would like you to give this to Ben as a tip if you think it would be appropriate.”
    “Okay Sam, I will— and thank