“Turn out the light!”
Tim flipped the switch to turn off the light that hung over the side of the small fishing boat, just above the water. The darkness of Lake Minnetonka immediately enveloped them. Clouds blocked out any moonlight. The only visible lights were the yellow electric lights from houses on the lake or flickering flames from fire pits along the shore. Plus, a few boats prowling the lake.
Tim and Matt were brothers, sixteen and fourteen years old from Excelsior, a small town on the south side of the lake. This summer they had decided they liked to catch fish and found the best way to do it consistently was to go at night and hang a light over the side of the boat. They set up a lantern with a shade around it, directing the light down into the water, just the way their grandfather had taught them. They had doused the light a few times tonight when boats had passed them. They had been sitting on the edge of a weed bed, illegally shining light into the water to attract the fish. They also didn’t have any running lights, which were required out on the water after sundown.
Tim looked to the front of the boat where he knew Matt was sitting and waited for his eyes to adjust so that he could see him.
“What’s up?” Tim whispered.
“There’s a cruiser coming. Port side. Over there.” Matt pointed across the boat.
Tim couldn’t ever remember port from starboard and followed Matt’s outstretched arm to see what he was looking at.
The boys sat and waited as they did the other times this night, waiting for the boat to pass so they could get back to fishing. “It’s stopping. What do you want to do?” Tim asked.
The large, white, Sea Ray Sundancer coasted to a stop about one hundred and fifty feet from them. The boys crouched in the camouflaged duck boat and peered through the reeds at the cruiser glowing in the dark with the lights on the bridge and rear compartment blazing. The voice of Frank Sinatra carried over the water from speakers somewhere on the boat.
“Sit tight. I don’t think they saw us. Let’s just wait and see what happens. We can leave if we need to.” Matt said. The waves from the cruiser rolled across the lake and rocked the boys in their boat. They reeled in their fishing lines and waited.
In a few minutes, they saw two men with drinks in their hands gather at the rear of the boat. The soft murmur of voices and the occasional laugh carried across the water. A woman joined them.
“Whoa, check her out.”
“I wish I had my binoculars.”
“You don’t need binoculars to see those. She has her own personal flotation devices if the boat goes down.”
The boys could see Sandy standing on the lit deck in her yellow bikini top. They watched as she talked to the men. She turned and started to walk away.
“Wait, come back.” Matt said a little too loudly.
“Shh, you idiot. You want them to see us?”
“Where’d she go?”
“Probably to take a piss or get another drink.”
“Looks like they’ll be there a while. Should we go?” Matt asked. The music drifting over the water changed to something more upbeat and Sandy reappeared with something in each hand. She crossed the deck and handed each man a fresh drink. Then she started to move with the music.
“We’re staying.” Matt said.
“No argument here, bro.”
Sandy spun around the deck, her long hair flowing behind her. She danced and moved provocatively in front of the men seated on the bench seats in the rear of the boat. Finally, she straddled a man, gyrating and grinding in his lap. She stopped and reached back behind her neck, untying the bikini top and letting it fall.
“You see that?”
“Definitely not real.”
“No, but very nice.”
“No tan lines.”
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
“I wouldn’t mind trading places with him.”
“In your wet dreams.”
“In my fantasy tonight.”
“Shh.”
The brothers continued to watch as the man and woman ground together and kissed. Finally, the woman stood up, took the man by the hand and led him out of sight. The second man remained seated and finished his drink. He looked at his watch, and put something in his mouth. A flare lit the night as the man held a match up to the end of the cigar and puffed to light it.
The smell of the cigar carried across the water. “Poor guy’s left alone with a drink and a stogie.”
“I think the show’s over and they aren’t going anywhere soon. Let’s go.”
Tim quietly pulled up the anchor and Matt started the nearly silent electric trolling motor and the brothers quietly pulled away from their fishing spot to head home for the night.