Wayne and I stood on the sea wall overlooking the lake. We were barely old enough to know each others’ name. I knew what birds were and I knew what cars were, as they passed over the interstate bridge, but I had never seen a fish. The wind blew through us and it was the first cold weather I can remember. Wayne stood there somehow knowing this moment was about to happen, even though there was no way he could really know, but I could see it in his face right before the water broke thick, and something blindingly silver and as long as a good size skiff cut the surface and crashed on top of the water before disappearing into the deep. We ran back toward the fishing camp and fear made a home in our hearts for a long time after.