As she began to reel the struggling fish in, Huck opened the ice chest and removed the beer completely. He slipped in behind her, sitting on the rock, both arms reaching around her body. One helped her grasp the fishing rod while the other wrapped gently around her wrist.
"Easy now," he told her, helping her move the reel. "He's gonna flop around like crazy. Give it a little tug." He demonstrated, jerking the rod toward the right. The fight came into more shallow water. Huck could see it thrashing around and reeled it in all the way. He stood up from the rock and went to the line to grab it, the catfish at the end of the hook struggling impressively. "You just caught yourself a whopper!" he exclaimed, looking ridiculous standing in the water in his boots, hat all askew. That damned catfish had to be at least six pounds.