Our corks hang lifeless in the water. Well, I can always hope. There are supposed to be lots of fish down there. If I catch one, maybe that dancing cook will fry it for me. Or maybe not. Probably, they’d make me let it go.

Now the corks are bobbing but not because fish are biting; the canoe is coming back. The sounds come near. Lapping paddles, the pleasant voice of the surfer guy. I look up to smile at him and only then realize how tense I am.

Even with help, I won’t be able to step into the canoe. They’ll have to lift me. I hate being lifted. The thought of being hauled into a little wobbly boat fills me with dread. But really I don’t have much choice. I have to trust these guys. They must know what they’re doing; they’ve been doing it all summer. It will be fine.

“Who’s next?” With the sun behind him, the surfer guy’s body makes a lean silhouette and his hair shines silver. Around him, light bounces off the black water like flashbulbs.

“Me?” I say. Might as well.

The other guy wrestles me into a life vest and takes hold of my shoulders. Kneeling in the canoe, the surfer grips me tight around my knees.

“Got her?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“One, two, three,” they yell. “Up!”

With one yank I’m out of my chair. My disconnected body spans the dock and the boat. The little boat lurches to the side, strains against the rope, is near to overturning.

“Whoa!” the surfer guy hollers. With one arm he’s reaching for the dock while the other takes harder hold of my legs. The other guy has me hanging by my shoulders.

I can’t see where I’ve been or where I’m going. There is no up, no down, no left, no right. My body wants escape. My back stiffens, and I nearly throw the guy off my shoulders. At the same time, a furious leg kicks the surfer guy hard in the chest.

“Christ! For Christ’s sake, be still!” He sounds angry. He tightens his hold and slams my knees together with such force I wonder if they’ll crack.

“Stop! Hold it!” The other guy is straining against me. I’m making it harder, even dangerous. My mind tells my body to submit, don’t fight. But my body won’t give in.

“Hang on! Got her?”

“Got her!” I try to stop fighting, but just as hard I try to escape. I try to escape, but I’m caught. I can’t move. My strength is no match for the combined strength of two able-bodied men determined to subdue me.

“Over now!”

“Okay!”

“Down!” The surfer guy drops my legs, and I think my shoulder joints may come apart with the weight of my body. My spine grazes the dock’s wooden lip; my feet hit the rocking boat; my tailbone bangs onto a plank seat. The guys turn loose. I lie there, too exhausted to try to sit up. I feel the surfer guy right beside me, breathing hard.