And the thought had become an added-on suggestion by Lamar at the next school board meeting, and the suggestion had perked the attention of the men in attendance, causing them to sit up in their chairs. When a vote was taken, it was approved without objection, and the men had spent another hour of backand forth talk, making rules. The fishing would be done on the Hiawassee River, which ran through the northeast corner of the valley, and the winner would be decided not by number of fish, but by total weight. Any kind of bait could be used—live or artificial—but no seining would be allowed, and no explosives and no electric devices. Anybody caught cramming rocks or shotgun pellets into a fish to increase its weight would be disallowed and not permitted to ever again participate in the event. People could arrive as early as seven o’clock and mark their fishing spot with a stick having their name on it. Rowdy behavior would not be tolerated. No drinking of any liquid containing alcohol. Judges would be members of the school board. All proceeds would go to the school, after the prize money had been taken out for the winner.

To the men, it was simple, and they had left the school board meeting in high spirits. Lamar would later tell his wife that more words had been exchanged about the fishing than about all the issues of education he had ever presented.

“You finally found something they understand,” his wife had replied gently.

The contest was in its twenty-third year, and the reputation of it had become an annual attraction for the Valley of Light and for Clay County, with some fishermen coming out of Georgia and Tennessee and from a good driving distance in North Carolina. On Fishing Day, as it was advertised, more than fifty people were certain to appear at the Hiawassee River, fishing gear in hand, and later their families would appear at the school for a moneymaking supper of fish and hush puppies and coleslaw.

The death of Matthew Reynolds had left Lamar with an uneasy feeling about Fishing Day. He would have preferred putting it off, but Howard had insisted that it go on as scheduled, and there was substance to his argument. A lot of people had made plans around the date, and it would be impossible to get out a notice about a date change to those not living in the valley. Besides, having something to bring them together after tragedy was, in all likelihood, a good thing.

Also, there was the matter of the fish seller. In a week’s time, he had become almost legendary. By count, Lamar already had sixty-one fishermen pay their two dollars, and usually the sign-up to fish did not take place until the day of the contest. He guessed there could be a hundred people competing for the twenty dollars that most of them would have reluctantly conceded to Littleberry Davis before the unexpected appearance of Noah Locke.