The lake was hungry, just as Jerry had said, and the water was dark, growing darker by the second, glowing dark green. Sherri couldn’t stop looking into it while wondering how many seconds someone could live without oxygen. Finally, Officer Henley, whose son Charlie had been in her grade, showed up at the scene in a police boat. He might have arrived within minutes or hours, Sherri couldn’t say. She’d become an island of worry, her brain overrun with panic. He and the other officers turned on a floodlight so white and so powerful they might have pulled the moon down from the sky to shine it closer to the lake. “You’ve got to let the divers do their work, Sherri. You’ve got to go.”

“But Arthur—”

“He’s been down there a long time. Too long.”

Danny drove the boat back to Arthur’s pier. Sherri’s friends huddled around her in the dark in their bikinis and swim trunks. Val said, “You’re going to get through this. It’ll be hard, but you will.”

The wind had changed direction and was coming from the north. Suddenly she was freezing, and she didn’t care. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. Her head was filled with static while she waited for news. Finally, she saw the police boat slowly approach the pier, the lights, once purposeful and dramatic flashing red and blue, were off now, replaced by only the small white boat light. Officer Henley stepped up onto the pier with his heavy black shoes.

“Is he—” Sherri began to ask. She wanted to ask if he was alive, but deep down she knew the minute she heard his head hit the boat that he couldn’t have survived.

The officer put his hand on her bare shoulder. She was struck by its warmth. “If it makes you feel any better, your friend went fast.”

The word “friend” was all wrong, everything was. “Probably never knew what hit him. He died instantly. Didn’t even fight to breathe. His lungs were still filled with air.”

Sherri couldn’t process the news. “No, he can’t—he was just—here. He was right here!”

“We’re all going to meet our maker someday. That’s the way you do it. Die young, before life gets hold of you. Think of it. The last thing he saw was the sunset over the lake. Still a tragedy, don’t get me wrong, but now he’ll never suffer the indignity of growing old. That’s a good death. Maybe the best I’ve ever heard of.”

This was no comfort for Sherri, who was dumbfounded and numb. She approached Arthur’s house one last time. Goldie waited expectantly by the door, her brown eyes sad and hopeful.

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you do me a favor?” She petted Goldie’s broad head.

“Sure,” he said. “Anything.”

“Will you take the dog? Her name is Goldie.”