Settle in.

“Anytime, kiddo.” You reply, tousling her close-cropped hair. You have cut it yourself in a sprightly style you had seen performed at the beauty college. It is light and cool, perfect for spring on Lake Mexia, and will hopefully delay recognition by her pursuers for a few vital seconds. You unpack your Igloo cooler, putting the perishables you had bought in Belmead into the refrigerator, along with the remains of a Grilled Stuffed Burrito and taco salad from Taco Bell. Opening one closet, you are delighted to discover fishing rods and tackle. You didn't think to purchase bait, but feel a lure will work just fine until you can. Carrying a rod and the tackle box to the shore, where waves lap gently against the sand and gravel bottom, You check the angle of the sun. It is probably still early enough to catch something. You choose your lure and begin tying it on the string. Your first six casts yield nothing, but your seventh provides some resistance, and the end that is in the water begins to jerk from side to side. Reeling your catch out of the water reveals a young crappie. Not big enough to keep, but the catch has added some spice to the day.

“What’s that?” Penelope asks, appearing at your elbow as you pull the hook out of the fish’s mouth.

“It’s a crappie.” You reply. “Haven’t you ever been fishing?”

“Yeah.” Penelope replies. “Dad used to take me fishing sometimes, but we always caught perch or catfish. Why are you letting him go?”

“Because he’s only eight inches long and the smallest you can keep is eleven.” You reply as the fish splashes into the waters of the lake. “The Park Service makes rules like that so that the fishermen will let fish live long enough to make little baby fish and keep the population up.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Penelope says. “Speaking of babies, I’ve been thinking about this thing Zak’s got you doing. I mean, is it right to manipulate people into having your baby?”