The discarded weeds form a layer over the water below me. I’m starting to snag them, again, as I pull the rake up. My optimism is disappearing. It’s being replaced by aching arms, a stiff back, and cold, chapped hands, but I keep telling myself, “Okay, this will be my last throw.”

I think I said that thirty throws ago.

My arms, legs, and back are screaming in agony. I’m coming up empty almost every time. I’m not even getting any weeds. I even try to rake the bottom directly under the pier. I’ll throw it on one side, carefully lie down on my stomach, and pass the rope to myself under the pier. I’m rewarded with nothing but more weeds.

My mind has gone numb. I’m not putting any thought into where I should throw the rake head. It’s mechanical.

I set my feet, wind up, and am about to make another toss when the pier starts to shake.

All my weight is going forward off the edge. I’m staring straight down into the water.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” I stutter.

I’m about to fall, but at the last second I pinwheel my arms backwards, stopping my momentum.

“Whoa! Easy tiger!” a voice says behind me.

I’m able to steady myself and shuffle backwards. Another inch, and I would have been swimming.

I look back to see Mildred, halfway down the pier, frozen in place, holding a cup of coffee in her hand.

I lean over and put my hands on my knees to catch my breath. “Mildred! Good lord, you almost sent me in.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Daniel!”

She’s got that panicked expression on her face and printed on the side of her mug are the words ‘SASSY BITCH’. I can’t help it. She’s such a comical picture, I start laughing until I’m shaking and have to sit down. She’s laughing, too. Her whole body starts to tremble, and coffee begins sloshing out of her cup, which brings more laughter. She can’t control herself and gives up, dumping the coffee into the lake.

“Cold anyway,” she says, “but I do hate to waste the whiskey.”

I’m laughing so hard, my aching muscles can’t take it. She comes to the end of the pier and sits next to me. We laugh until we’re out of breath and it feels like I’ve done a million sit-ups.

“Okay,” she says, wiping her eyes. “I have to ask, what are you doing out here? I’ve been watching you for hours. You weedin’?”