Passage II

Working at the Bait & Tackle Shop

[1]

Most folks who live in our little bayside village work at a job having something to do with fishing or tourism, and I’m no different.

[2]

The shop opens at six in the morning, I arrive thirty minutes early to set up. On many mornings, the sky is adorned with peach-and-melon-colored ribbons as a blazing solar sun begins to peek over the horizon. Walking toward the docks, the seagulls are wheeling and swooping. Their high-pitched cries sound like rusty door hinges.

[3]

Usually, as I’m opening the door, Carney, the night security guard at the marina, walks by on his way home and offers me a sleepy hello.

[4]

The shop smells salty, like the bay, itself and the creaky oak floor is gritty with sand. I turn on the lights in the middle of the shop sits wooden bins filled with sinkers, floats, and lures. The wide variety of fishing equipment attracts both the serious angler and the casual vacationer. If I notice any merchandise out of place, I straighten it up.

[5]

Next, I turn on the electric urn to heat water for hot tea, and I start a fresh pot of coffee. When I fill the bowl of sugar cubes, take the lid off the powdered creamer, and add tea bags to the assortment in the basket on the counter. I remove the cash drawer from the safe and put it in the cash register.

[6]

[1] Then, from the walk-in cooler, I drag bushels of bait clams to the counter. [2] I make sure the buckets of live herring, mullet, and shrimp are filled. [3] Since they’re sold by the baker’s dozen, I fill Styrofoam containers with a bit of the grass and thirteen worms. [4] If it’s a particularly nice day, or if the fish have been biting, I might prepare extra containers. [5] I pull out a large cardboard flat of worms packed in moist grass. (28)

[7]

By this time, it’s nearly six o’clock. I open the window blinds, unlock the front door, and greet the first customers with a smile. (29) If it’s nippy outside, I offer them a complimentary cup of hot coffee or tea to help them start their day.