Buttons walked around the cold, unused fire pit. Andrew kept an eye on him. He didn’t want their city beagle running off into the woods. God knew, the humans weren’t faring so well out of their element.

Andrew heard the rhythmic splashing of the kayak paddles before he saw the old couple. Out here today, he wouldn’t be surprised if they could hear his heartbeat riding along the surface of the lake.

Their kayaks, one green, one yellow, made the turn around the small spit of land that lent a degree of privacy to the cottage. Hugging close to the shoreline, wearing helmets and life jackets, the man and woman paddled with serene intensity.

Seeing them up close for the first time, Andrew was struck by how old they actually looked. His father used to call octogenarians wrinklies. That always made Andrew laugh as a kid, for shit sure he would never be a wrinklie. Old age, the kind of old age that made you look like a walking, talking mummy, was the kind of thing that happened to other people. Old people. Andrew would never get old, and even if he did, he’d never look like that.

“Hi,” Andrew said, waving.

The pair of wrinklies, white hair peeking out from beneath their yellow helmets, dipped their paddles in the water and brought their kayaks to a stop five feet from the dock.

“Good morning,” the man said with surprising gusto. Andrew was expecting a shaky voice, timbre thin as a moth’s wings.

“Enjoying this beautiful sunrise?” the woman asked, her smile bright enough to make up for the dingy clouds. Andrew had a feeling she smelled like fresh-baked pie and strawberry preserves. It was a weird thing to pop into his head, but there it was, just the same.

“At least it’s not raining,” he said.

“It will later today,” she said. “All into the night. But they say sunny skies tomorrow.”

“Getting in your morning exercise before the storm?”

The man laughed. “It could be teeming and we’d be paddling along. The only things that keep us away are lightning and the cold. It’s cold a long, long time up here, so we make sure to get as much in as we can when things heat up. I’m Henry, by the way. This is my wife, Ida.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’ve watched you for weeks. In fact, you inspired me to rent my own kayak.”

Ida looked around the dock and shore. “Oh dear, did you sink it?”

“It’s still strapped to my car. I was going to bring it down today.”

“Do you kayak often?” Henry asked.

Andrew shrugged. “A few times. I won a kayak race in camp when I was a kid.”

Ida tapped her life vest. “Invest in one of these. I know you kids think you’re invincible. Better safe than sorry.”