Maximo and Mummelsee

Very early on a Saturday morning, Maximo Muller went fishing with his father. They waited on the shores of the Mummelsee, an oval-shaped lake located deep within Germany's Black Forest.

Deep within the German Alps, old growth Pine trees surrounded the Mummelsee. The lake stretched two kilometers long and flowed ten fathoms deep. Maximo sat at the edge of the Mummelsee with his father. He held a fishing hook in one hand and a worm in the other.

Just put it on the hook," said Mr. Muller.

"His guts will ooze out if I poke him."

"It's just a worm, Max," scolded his father.

Mr. Muller grabbed the hook and threaded it through the little worm several times. Max squirmed at the sight of it as he turned away. Mr. Muller took the fishing rod and cast the line into the lake. The worm hit the water with a plop. Mr. Muller handed the fishing pole back to his son.

"You're all set."

Max fixed the rocks on the shore into a more comfortable sitting spot. He rested the pole in his hands as he sat and watched the bobber. It bounced gently on the waves. A thin veil of mid-morning fog drifted over the surface of the lake. As far as Max could tell, the only ones at Mummelsee were Max, Mr. Muller, and the worm squirming on the hook.

While Max waited, he wondered what would happen if he actually caught a fish. Would the fish jump out of the water? What would his father say if Max didn't take the fish off the hook? Max wasn't sure how he felt about fishing at all.

Mr. Muller propped his fishing pole on a Y-shaped twig. "Watch my pole for a moment,"

Now, Max had two fishing poles to watch instead of just one.

Mr. Muller snatched two bottles of water from the ice chest. He gave one to his son and kept one for himself. He also grabbed a loaf of cheese-stick bread and a package of knackwurst. He cut off two thins slices and set them aside. He sliced the knackwurs length-wise and folded each half in a piece of cheese-stick bread. He finished by adding a squirt of mustard to each one.

"Just how you like it, Max, with one yellow racing stripe."

Max took a bite. The rich spices in the knackwurst blended with the yellow mustard. Max gobbled the knackwurst as he sat on the shore with his father, waiting for fish.

A brisk wind rippled over the waves and across Max’s face. He zipped his jacket while he waited. Max dipped his fingers into the icy water. As he traced his fingers over moss-covered stone sitting underwater, he hummed a little tune.

"Lorelei," said his father.

"Hmmm?"

"Lorelei must be singing to you," said Mr. Muller.

"Who is Lorelei?"

"Lorelei is one of the Rhinemaidens."

"I think I've heard about them."

"There are many folk tales of creatures living along the shores of the Rhine. The most famous among them was called Lorelei.”

“Isn’t there a place called the Lorelei Rock?”

“It was named because of Lorelei.”

“What was she like?” asked Max.

As he listened to his father, he swirled his fingers in the cold water.

“She was a young girl in love. One day, after her lover left her, she threw herself off the Lorelei Rock.”

“So that's why they call it the Lorelei Rock?”

Mr. Muller nodded.

“Her ghost is said to still haunt those shores. She sits on the rocky cliffs, singing to passing ships. Her songs distracted sailors and caused shipwrecks. Her songs also drew sailors into the water.”

"Oh," said Max. He withdrew his hand from the icy waters and searched the morning mist. As fog moved along the surface of the water, he thought he saw one, but wasn't quite sure. Tall Cedar trees swayed as wind whistled through the treetops.

“Don’t worry. Lorelei is just a myth created by people. There are other legends, too. There are the Nixies – the shape-shifting water sprites that haunt the murky swamps of Germany.”

“Tell me more about Lorelei,” begged Max.

“I’ll do one better. One day, we’ll visit the Lorelei Rock.”

As the waters of the Mummelsee lapped at the shore, Max stared off into the distance, daydreaming about the Lorelei. The sound of the waves lulled him to sleep. Mermaids of every type inhabited Max’s dream. In the far-off distance, a fish splashed around in the water. Max walked onto the surface of the lake.

As he did, his father scolded him. “Max, you can’t walk on the water!”

“I can’t?” asked Max.

“Of course not!”

Water poured over the tops of Max’s feet, engulfing his legs, waist, and chest in water. Soon, he found himself drowned in the water. He could barely see beyond his nose as he looked about.

“Max, you can’t swim, either,” reminded his father.

Max choked on a gulp of water. He flailed his arms about helplessly, trying to swim to the surface. The fish from the other side of the lake came up to investigate the drowning Max. As it got closer, he realized it wasn’t a fish, but a Mermaid named Lorelei.

Lorelei stretched out her arms and grabbed Max by the waist. She pulled upward, dragging Max to the surface. Max coughed and gagged as he reached the surface. Lake water burned inside his nostrils.

“Max! You’ve got a bite! Reel it in! Reel it in!”

Max looked up to see a hook in the mermaids mouth. It confused him greatly. Just then, he woke to see his father standing next to him.

“Reel it in, Max! Reel it in!”

The fishing pole fell from his lap. The bobber popped below the surface for a moment, then popped back up again.

“Reel it in, reel it in!” repeated Mr. Muller.

Max grabbed his fishing pole and began reeling in his catch. The thin purple fishing line tightened, drawing a line between boy and fish. Max reeled faster and faster. A giant fish, silver, green, and blue, jumped out of the water.

“There she is!” exclaimed Mr. Muller.

Max reeled faster and faster. The fish tugged against him. Mr. Muller spotted the fish as it neared the shore.

“She’s a beauty!”

Mr. Muller grabbed the fishing net and held it out. The line tightened one last time and then went slack. Max reeled in the remainder of his fishing line. Unfortunately, the fish had gotten away.

“Son, you were so close."

Mr. Muller.dropped the fishing net to the ground. The aluminum pole clanked on the rocks. He settled himself down on the shore and grabbed up his own fishing pole, waiting for another fish.

“That was so exciting! What now?” asked Max.

“Now we wait. Grab a worm and put it on the hook.”

Max looked over at the small styrofoam cup filled with earthworms and dirt. As he dug his fingers through the black soil, he looked at the worms, deciding which one would be next. He grabbed a small worm and held it between his fingers.

“Alright, buddy,” he said as he looked the worm in the eyes. Or maybe as he looked the worm in the other end.

Max held his breath and carefully placeed the worm on top of the barbed hook. As he pressed down, the worm curled into a little Pink S.

"I just can't do it,Dad."

"Give me the worm."

Mr. Muller quickly jabbed the worm onto the hook and Max squirmed again. Mr. Muller shook his head as he handed the fishing pole back to Max. Max wound the reel until the bobber hit the top of the reel. He snapped the button with his thumb and gave the reel a flick. The reel whirred. The worm splashed into the lake and Max sat down.

As the day grew brighter and fog lifted from the lake’s surface, fishermen gathered along the shores of Mummelsee. Max and his father sat by the shore, eating knackwurst and enjoying the outdoors.

The fish didn’t bite all day long. Just beore sunset, Mr. Muller decided to pack up and go home.

“C’mon, Max, let’s see what your mother cooked for supper.”

Max reeled in the fishing line, only to find an empty fishing hook. Mr. Muller pulled a pair of pliers out of his back pocket and snipped the hook off Max’s fishing line. He unfastened the hook and bobber, storing them neatly in the tackle box.

“Finish her up,” said Mr. Muller.

Max unfastened the top end of the fishing pole, breaking it into two halves. He looped the end of the fishing line through one of the eye loops and secured it with a knot.

“Also make sure we don't leave anything behind,” said Mr. Muller.

Max and his father cleaned up their fishing spot and returned to the car, ready to return home again.