Gil stood at the top of the hill on the far side of the lake, staring through the trees to the calm waters. The early morning sun's rays beat down on it, the glint of the occasional wave shining into his eyes. Jack sat on a log next to him, tossing pebbles at a nearby stump. Copper chased after every pebble, and- failing to retrieve it- ran back to Jackson, eagerly anticipating the next toss. Jackson looked over to Gil and noticed his fixation on the lake.
"'ey Gil, what're you thinkin' 'bout?" He asked, not expecting much of an answer. Gil enjoyed keeping his plans well under-wraps until they were well under-way. Gil looked around, casting Jackson a quick glance, before holding up a finger to indicate he needed a few moments. There was a large boulder next to him, which he quickly scaled and perched atop. From his new vantage point, he could see over the majority of the trees, since it was all downhill to the lake.
Jackson watched as Gil squatted, took off his winter hat, and held it in his hands, his mind working quickly behind his eyes. His dark brown hair, usually hidden beneath his hat, provided a stark contrast to Jackson's sun-bleached blonde. Gil rocked back on his heels for a moment, and then fell back onto his haunches. His foot began to tap as his fingers drummed on the rock, his eyes remaining fixed on the lake, the tempo of his drumming increased, as did the tapping of his foot. It stopped as suddenly as it began. Gil turned his head towards Jackson and replaced his cap.
He pointed to the lake. "We're building a raft." His soft, sure words rang out from the peak, and the trio took off.

Grant and Carla sat across the lake, lounging at an outdoor café by the water. The sun way high in the sky, beating down equally hard on Grant's lightly tanned white skin and on Carla's dark brown. They sipped their iced lemonades, watching children run about on the lake's man-made beach. Carla sipped the last of the liquid out, the ice remaining on the bottom. A waiter walked around, weaving through the tables, checking on the customers. She signaled for him to come over, and he saw. However, he didn't come to her; he simply walked in the opposite direction. Carla sighed, angry, but resigned.
Grant looked away from the children and cast an inquisitive glance to her. Recognizing the sigh and the look on her face, he did his best to ease her pain. "Some things never change, Grant." She tried to say more, but she choked up, her eyes watering. He reached across the table to her, taking her hand in his. There was nothing he could say, nothing to change the way things were.
So, he had to get her mind off of it. "Honey, did I ever tell you about the time that Gil an' I went fishin'?"
"Oh, yeah, that one time." A slight smile accompanied her sarcasm.
"Well, with that attitude, I'm just gonna tell it to you anyways, whether you like it or not." He grinned and took his pipe out his pocket. He lit it and sipped his lemonade; Carla feigned a disinterested groan, trying hard to control her smile. This, in turn, widened Grant's, their smiles wiping all of the age from their faces. Maybe Grant couldn't make the world perfect for Carla, but he could at least make it better.

Gil and Jackson burst through the door into Gil's Father's garage. The car was out, and a menagerie of tools hung on all the walls. For a handy-man, it would have been paradise. Gil and Jackson, however, barely knew the difference between a wrench and pliers, so they were oblivious to the treasure. They grabbed a small handful of nails, some black and white cleaning rags, a needle and thread, a small hatchet, a good-sized length of rope, a bucket, a pair of small oars, and a hammer, before awkwardly running out to the woods again. They ran past the old sandlot where everyone played ball, but it was empty; everyone was at the lake. The sun was still low in the sky, it was hours before noon, but they hurried off, wanting to be out on that lake as fast as they could.
They reached their clearing and dropped the tools in the truck bed. Gil grabbed the hatchet and began searching for trees of the proper size. They found a large clump of them, about 5 feet tall, thick and sturdy, and they started. The first one fell, eliciting a joyous "Timber!" from Jackson and a bark from Copper. "Let me do one, Gil?" Gil handed the hatchet to Jackson. Before the tool had even left his hand, he scurried up a nearby tree, and came down with a handful of apples. Whilst Jackson chopped on the trees, Gil and Copper chomped on the fruit. As they finished feasting, they buried the seeds all around, Copper digging a hole with his paws and Gil tossing some in, as Grant had taught them.
Jackson soon tired, and he handed off the hatchet to Gil. They went on like this, taking turns for a short while, and before long they had enough wood for their project. They dragged them back to the clearing. The scent of pine strong in the air, they stripped their branches and arranged the bulk of them alongside each other, forming a 5 by 3-1/2 foot rectangle on the grass. They weaved the rope through the logs on both sides a few times before tying it off. When it was satisfyingly secure, they added a few shorter ones on top, going crosswise, and secured them with a combination of nails and additional rope. They flipped it over, putting a much smaller stick through a pair of logs in the back to serve as a flag post.
Then they grabbed the bucket and headed back out. Gil looked around for a big, healthy pine tree and then took out a small chunk. Sap poured freely into the barrel. After a short while, he replaced the chunk and moved onto another tree. He repeated the process several times, and soon the bucket was full. The sap was beginning to harden, so the boys hurried back and began sealing the spaces in the raft, securing the flag post.
They sat around, waiting for the sap to dry, busily tearing the rags into the desired shapes. Gil ripped and tore and handed the pieces to Jackson, who was sewing them together with a steady hand. Before long, they had a mighty fine Jolly Roger ready to be flown. Jackson ran up to the flag post, and Gil hopped up onto his shoulders and tied the flag on. They put a few more apples into the bucket and put it on the raft, along with their fishing rods and oars.
Gil produced an eye-patch from his pocket, and Jackson pulled out a red bandanna. They donned their attire, and ran off in separate directions, and soon came back with suitable pirate swords, or as they are better known, sticks. They dueled for a while, to decide who would become pirate king. Mid-way through, they realized a dire issue. They needed pirate names!
Jackson decided on Bloody Jack Bailey the Ruthless, while Gil chose Fierce Jim Deckard the Courageous. Copper was bestowed the title, "Copper, the Vicious Sea-Dog." Then, it was time to get back to business. They drew their swords, and they began. They parried and jab, sliced and diced, hack and chopped, and all in all fought a very close battle. Gil leaped upon the truck bed, and gained the advantage of height. Bloody Jack attempted to slice his legs from beneath him, but Fierce Jim jumped and brought his sword down rather roughly upon Bloody Jack's head. But such is to be expected of pirates.
Their arms, legs, faces, and clothes were thoroughly dirty and grimy now, perfectly befitting of the scruffy piratical image. Captain Jim then explained his plan, which he had used before to great effect. He grabbed a coil of willow-rope that they'd spun in idle time, and fastened it to the front to the raft. Bloody Jack, Captain Jim, and Copper, the Vicious Sea Dog, all took hold, one way or another, and began to pull their craft to the lake.
The sun was a bit past its zenith now, but still high in the sky. People were all around the lake, engaging in the usual activities of summer time; swimming, boating, fishing, lazing, and frolicking. They reached the lake, and to their satisfaction, many boats were afloat. Their craft slid into the water, and they pushed off with a shout and a bark. They rowed mightily, and the Jolly Roger flapped in the wind.
Chance and Paige Clemenson, friends from the baseball games in the sandlot, sat in a boat near them, fighting over a fishing rod. The siblings waved to Bloody Jack and Captain Jim, who considered boarding them. Sentimentality got the better of them, and Gil and Jackson waved back.
When they returned to rowing, they were headed straight for a boat full of children smaller than them, and they brandished their swords.
The young children frantically paddled away, Captain Jim and his crew trailing right behind them. The craft were equally matched, however, and they could not gain on them. Copper the Vicious Sea Dog barked quite viciously at them, but this only served to hasten their rowing. So, with a cry of, "Avast!" Bloody Jack picked up an apple, and heaved it at one of their rowers. It conked him right upon the head, and the pirates were soon upon them.
They swung their swords menacingly, demanding loot. In unison, all of the children reached into their pockets, pulled them inside-out, empty. All they had was one little fish in a bucket. It was still flopping around, and Bloody Jack dropped it back into the water with a plop. One of the kid's face's brightened up, and he pulled a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket. He scrawled, "I.O.U one booty" onto it, upon which all of the children made their marks. He presented it to Captain Jim, who accepted it with an "Arrr" and a scowl.
The rapscallions smiled widely as their recent prey hurried for the shore. They jumped back to their vessel and pushed off. Slight waves from all of the lake's activity rocked their craft. Then, a different kind of wave, a larger wave, hit them. It was the wave of romance. Bloody Jack had seen Betsy.
She was rowing a ways off with a few of her friends. "'ey! Betsy!" shouted Bloody Jack, standing up and waving. Captain Jim sighed and waved as well, though rather unenthusiastically. He added an "arrr" for good measure. Betsy looked over, and shouted back.
"Hey Jackson." She said, with less enthusiasm than Gil. "Hey Gil." Then, someone caught her eye. No heart, especially a female one, could resist the cuteness of a puppy. Copper shook his tail vigorously and let out a few yips. "Hey Copper!" she shouted back.
Copper barked loudly. He leaned back on his haunches, and a look of horror crossed Gil's face. He reached for Copper, but it was too late. Copper leapt off the raft and crashed into the water with a tremendous splash. The raft rocked wildly, throwing them both into the lake, spraying water everywhere.
They flailed around, laughing and yelling, as they struggled to get back on the raft. Their recent victims laughed at the turn of events, and Betsy and her friends did as well. Copper jumped up out of the water and onto Betsy's boat, almost capsizing it as well. Amid much laughter, Betsy and her friends rowed over and helped Jackson and Gil back onto their boat. Jackson couldn't contain his smile, but Gil felt decidedly un-pirate-like. He attempted to frighten and demand the respect of his rescuers, but their only responses were regarding how cute he was.
Gil gruffly hopped back onto their boat, taking Copper with him. Jackson soon followed suit, albeit rather dazed. He sat on the edge of the raft, and wistfully bid Betsy goodbye, the small waves lapping against his legs. Copper shook off wildly, re-soaking them just as they began to dry, but Jackson paid the wetness no heed.
While Jackson stared off into the distance, Gil picked up the fishing rods, which luckily had not been knocked overboard. He bit off two small pieces of apple and placed them on the hooks. He tried to pass one to Jackson, but his companion seemed to be absorbed in another world. A quick jab in the side brought him back, and soon the pair was fishing.
They sat there, idly still, the smell of wet dog heavy in the air, the afternoon sun beating down on them. Copper lay on his back, paws pointing to the sky, as Gil and Jackson rubbed his tummy. Then, out of the blue, something tugged on Gil's rod, almost pulling it out from between his knees. Both Gil and Jackson grabbed for it, barely catching it in time. They pulled back and reeled in, working together to pull the monstrous fish in. Just as they had almost gotten the fish, Jackson's rob trembled, and it would have shot into the lake, had Jackson not trapped it to the deck with his foot.
They battled heroically, both the fish and the boys, but with a final pull, a vicious tug, and a flash on orange, the first fish popped onto the raft. Copper prodded it with his paws and barked as it flopped. Jackson grabbed his fishing pole as Gil toppled the apples onto the deck and filled the bucket with water. He swiftly un-hooked the fish and plopped it into the bucket.
He smiled, waved to the fish- now swimming happily- and jumped up to help Jackson. They pulled back with all their weight, and when the last of the line came above the water, the fish and the bait were nowhere to be seen. They looked to each other, frowning slightly. A deep thunk came from the bucket and grabbed their attention. They hurriedly jumped over to it, rocking the raft. They simultaneously steadied the bucket, which was threatening to spill.
They looked into the bucket; looking past the reflections that stared back at them and to what swam beneath. It was a mammoth goldfish, and it was looking right back at them, slowly opening and closing its mouth, in that way fish do. They stared at it for a few seconds, dumbfounded, and then looked at each other.
"Gee, Gil, I didn't know this lake had goldfish in it." He said, weakly. They both knew that it didn't. "He's a big 'un, too. You don't suppose that this is." he trailed off and looked up, uncertain hopefulness in his eyes. Gil cocked his head to the side and put his head right up to the bucket, his nose almost touching the water. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, in that way fish do, and the fish did it back. Gil sat up, eyes bright and smile wide, and he nodded.
You see, a few years prior, the boys had won a goldfish at the local carnival. They named him Goldfish, took him home, and made a nice home for him. Soon after, however, Petunia nearly killed him when she took him out of the bowl to play. Gil was blamed for this, as siblings are often held responsible for their sibling's actions, and his parents decreed that he was unfit for the responsibility of a pet. So, in a rather pompous ceremony, Gil's parents escorted Gil, Jackson, Petunia, and Goldfish to the lake and set him free.
Bigger than Gil's fist, Goldfish swam distractedly. "Well, Gil, ain't this the bee's knees? He's huge! Do y'think he's part shark or somethin'? I mean, he's gotta be! Look at 'im!" Jackson gesticulated wildly. Gil nodded enthusiastically in agreement. It was pretty cool to have had a pet that was part shark. Gil tossed another piece of apple into the bucket. "Do y'think we can take him home now, Gil?"
Goldfish ate the chunk of fruit and sullenly bumped into the side of the bucket. Gil looked the monstrous fish in the eyes. They said something primal to him. They communicated some natural right to be free. Gil looked back up to Jackson, disappointment in his eyes. He wanted to take Goldfish home with him desperately, but he knew that wasn't the right thing to do. He knew what the right thing to do was. He knew what he had to do.
He shook his head solemnly at Jackson. As Jackson looked into Gil's eyes, he in turn, understood. In tandem, they waved goodbye to Goldfish, picked up the bucket, and let him free into the lake.
The sun was beginning to set in the distance, the Jolly Roger flapped in the wind, and they sat down heavily. As rowed back to shore, Copper breathed tiredly beside them, and they looked at the birds flying high over the lake, and the fish swimming beneath it, exalting in their freedom, and they knew that they had made the right choice.