Boo grunts and pulls out two flashlights from the chaos of the truck cab. He stands in the lee of the open door and puts the cheap plastic flashlights in quart Ziploc bags and presses the air out as he thumbs the lips shut. Jumbo doesn’t wait for an answer and jumps into the truck bed. It tilts down on its springs and Simon unleans from the quarter panel. Jumbo flips the spare tire off the waders tucked against the back wall. He takes one pair in his hands and drops the other over the side wall and leans down again, scattering empty beer cans and wood chips and comes up with two pairs of knee-high rubber boots. He whistles to get Simon’s attention and tosses them toward the tailgate in a slow arc. Simon bends down and sorts through them for a set and hands the other pair to Ned. He unlaces his shoes and jumps on the tailgate. He pushes his shoes off and slips the boots on. The rubber is dry and cold on his thinly socked feet. He offers a smoke silently to Jumbo as he vaults the side of the truck with the waders in one hand. He plucks it from the pack and nods to Simon as he clenches the cigarette between his teeth, shucks his shoes and steps into the waders. He bends his head forward when Simon offers him the lit match and thumbs the suspenders over his shoulders. “All set.”

Boo hands him one of the flashlights and puts on the other waders. Jumbo flips it on while Ned bends over the tub and searches in the tangle for the anchor rope and a loose end of the net. He finds the orange nylon rope and threads it through the end of the floater line and walks it back from the river to a piss elm that juts out from the bank, its skin buckled from years of rope burn. He ties it on around the tree five feet from the ground and pulls the net closer to the tree and loops it back and ties a full hitch.

As Ned anchors the floater Boo ties the weighted line to the bottom of the tree. Once both lines are secure, they step into the water and walk out ten yards, letting the net sink and rest in the water like a submerged map. Ned steers Simon by the sleeve to the washtub where they both stand knee-deep in the water and straighten the lines. Jumbo and Boo walk out farther into the river. They pause and turn on their flashlights and nose themselves deeper and angle downstream, heading for the far shore. Jumbo walks three feet upstream from Boo, the floater line over his shoulder so the floaters and sinkers won’t tangle. Slowly, with each wet step, the fog eats them from view.