The river was lit by the full moon. The reflection looked like a glowing hole cut in black
marble. To Andy, it seemed as if you could just step from the beach onto the smooth glass floor. He
wanted to walk out there, across the water, and scoop up the moon.
It didn't take long before he was climbing out on a pathway of rocks stretching out from the
bank. The cold wet rocks leeched the warmth out from his feet. He couldn't feel his toes, but any
concern for his feet was buried under his determination to slip his fingers into to moon. He wanted to
grab it, and peel it from the waters surface like a giant glowing sticker. It was perfect. The last rock was
small and barely stood above the surface of the water, yet it lay just inches from the reflection. With
light feet Andy made the final leap. When his feet hit the rock they didn't stop. They slipped from
beneath him and up into the sky. It was as if Andy's desire to touch the moon had possessed his feet and
in their frozen state they had thrown themselves into the night sky to touch the real thing.
When his feet went up, his head went down. And it continued down, cracking against the rock,
before slipping into the dark cold water.
His body sunk. Skinny limbs failed to swim, and swayed in the current as settled at the bottom
of a deep eddie.
Thats where he opened his eyes again. Normally a person would ponder on how they were
breathing when sitting upon the river floor. Andy had other concerns. Like the fish, whose giant head
filled his vision, floating inches from his face.
If there was ever a possibility that Andy might return to the seemingly pressing question of how
he was breathing, that possibility dissolved the moment the fish began to speak.
“Who are you?”
For a moment Andy was speechless. Then he found his voice and with a bubbly stutter
answered, “I-I'm Andy... Who are you?”
“Some of your kind call me ptychocheilus lucius, but most call me the pikeminnow. You can
call me Bull though.”