As long as I could remember my brother and I would sneak away every summer afternoon to fish at Hanson’s Pond.

Until the summer of ‘89.

The pond sat next to Country Road 17, the only road that stretched through the entire county. It was a popular fishing and swimming hole for many of the kids and an escape from the adults for teens that wanted to smoke, drink and do what teenagers do.

On a particularly busy day at the pond my brother Joe decided it was time to try out a secret fishing spot he’d overheard some older boys talking about. The main pond washed away into thick tall grass that most kids assumed turned into land but if you hiked far enough through the grass it became deep again.

It was difficult to get to as most secret spots are. We trudged and stomped through mud and bushes, slapped away bugs and chased snakes until we finally made it to a small shaded beach underneath a small bridge holding Country Road 17. The tall grass made it hard to see back to the main pond and the distance made us almost impossible to hear over the wind and cicadas. We made ourselves comfortable on the beach, dug out holes to place our rods in and sat back, waiting for a bite.

The warmth of the afternoon turned into a cool breeze as the sun sunk lower in the sky. As it got closer to sunset the occupants of the main pond started to leave and soon it was just us left in the early dusk. Joe had fallen asleep with his hat shading his face, and I sat watching some tadpoles swimming near the shore. A rumble came from the road above us. It did every time a car passed so my attention remained on the tiny new friends I had been watching.

In the reflection I saw her falling. I looked up as the tadpoles scattered in anticipation of the woman hitting the pond. She crashed on the beach, her top half slapped onto the wet beach as her legs splashed into the water, scaring Joe awake.

We both sat stunned, frozen. She was in a black dress, covered in flowers. There were bruises all over her arms and face. Her bright blue eyes were open and lifeless, staring into mine.