Pt. 2

...a group of Mexicans gathered in a cluster, proclaiming a miracle because they could see the face of Jesus in a tortilla or the cooled wax drippings from a candle - but fortunately, none of that nonsense was happening today.

The wind stirred lightly and a whip-poor-will called as the fishing line sat lazily against the surface of the pond, defiantly refusing to move.  Bo shifted his weight, then regarded his foot as it kicked a pebble toward the water's edge.  He wondered what Brother Platinum had in mind when he'd given him the fishing pole, and why he'd been the one chosen - but before his mind really had a chance to wander, he realized that he hadn't thought to bait the hook.  "Stars and garters!" Bo muttered to himself, not fully knowing what it meant, but delighting in the chance to say the phrase aloud.  


He started to reel the line back in, figuring he'd have to either find a worm fast, or give up for the day when the hook caught on something at the bottom of the pond.  Bo tugged.  The hook didn't seem to want to budge at all - it was as though it was suddenly encased in concrete.  Bo took up all the slack on the line, braced himself and pulled as hard as he could.  Suddenly, the line snapped and something flew out of the pond and smacked Bo square in the middle of the forehead, then fell to the earth with a wet slap.  Stunned, he dropped his pole, rubbed his brow and squatted down to look at the small clump of mud and algae laying at his feet.  There was definitely something hard in the middle of the goop - the welt growing on his forehead proved it - and when Bo smeared some of the mess away with his fingers, he could see it looked just like a