The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet. He stood as still as a deer does after hearing a twig snap in the woods. His breathing slowed to almost nothing as he listened for the eerie guttural groan that the lady of the lake makes right before a major ice break.


The ice fishing tournament should have been cancelled. He fought for that at the committee meeting held a week before. The ice was on the cusp of required thickness. It could have gone either way. Old timers like himself fought to cancel it. The young guys hadn’t witnessed enough of their friends dying after falling through the ice to be cautious. They voted to go ahead with the competition.


It had been warmer than normal for winter in their mountain top town. Debates raged through the local café whether it was global warming or natural weather cycles. Those who had been in town a long time couldn’t remember a warmer winter but would deny climate change until their wives dragged them out of the restaurant. The servers at the café were the real victims in the debates, being asked to take sides in exchange for their tips.


Charles couldn’t be bothered to debate either side, but he was staunch in his fight over the ice competition being cancelled. Normally he wouldn’t be. It was his favorite weekend of the year. He started his own countdown in mid-December, though it was held the first week of February. His wife insisted that he not talk about it until after Christmas, as that was her favorite time of year, but he rarely obliged.


This year though, it was different. He had a feeling, and it woke him almost every night him from his sleep. At every committee meeting, he urged the other members to cancel, warning that something bad was going to happen. They already had hundreds of contestants signed up though, the opposition claimed. It would be too complex to refund their money. Besides, the competition was a great source of income for the small businesses in town. Some of them made the majority of their profits during the ice fishing tournament weekend alone.


In the end, money spoke louder than Charles, as is to be expected. The tournament plans went ahead, and Charles got less and less sleep every day leading up to the weekend.


On the morning of the tournament, he was out earlier than anyone else, inspecting the ice while hoping that his intuition had been wrong. He wasn’t fishing this year. It would be the first time abstaining since he was seventeen and broke his leg in hockey the month before. The old timers were surprised, but the younger crowd was happy to not have him as competition. He knew where the best spots were, even if they changed from year to year.


Thirty minutes after stepping out onto the ice to inspect, he heard the first crack. It didn’t necessarily mean disaster. The lady of the lake stretches from time to time, bones making noises like the wise elder that she is. However, the cracking did mean caution. She was warning all to take her power seriously. Charles respected her. The young guys did not.


As he stood in place listening for more warnings, Charles saw headlights pulling up to the docks. The other committee members and volunteers arrived. Within another hour, the competitors would be arriving as well for the 7am start time. Charles forced a swallow down his bone-dry throat and carefully made his way to where they were setting up.


“Lots of creaking out there. It’s not too late to cancel.” He said to the chair of the committee.


“Charles, the ice is thick enough. We measured it. It fits the standards.”


“But just barely!” Charles yelled with his nerves frayed already.


“Go home if you don’t like it, but we’re going ahead with the tournament.”


Charles walked off to let his temper cool. He was old enough to know that nothing is solved with violence, but he was close to making that choice.


As the contestants rushed out onto the ice, Charles felt his chest get tighter. Feeling helpless, he did the only thing he could at that point, which was to stand guard, watch people as best as he could and listen for the lady of the lake to scream more warnings.


He heard a small warning just past 9am, but it was similar to first one, with no follow up. His body loosened slightly, reasoning that people had been on the ice now for almost two hours with no problems. He thought to himself, only three more hours.


Then he heard it. It was a recognizable sound to most of the people on the lake and some started running back to the shore. Charles stood up and yelled, “Don’t run! You’ll make it worse! Stop!”


He was too far away from the action, and with the panic, no one would have been able to hear him anyway. As soon as the first few people started running, everyone else did the same with panic overtaking any remaining bit of logic left.


Scanning the ice, Charles watched as nearly everyone made it to safety, but a small black dot, farther out than anyone else, caught his eye. It looked like a child, but no one was around to appear to be a parent. He looked back to the crowd to see if anyone was running back in that direction. Seeing no one, he didn’t hesitate to run out himself, despite his warnings to the others. Adrenaline took over and logic left him as well.


The lady of the lake was not happy and had no problem expressing that. She groaned and grunted and cracked loudly under his feet as he made his way to the child. Charles stopped hearing her though, being completely deaf to the warnings and instead focusing on the rescue.


The child was sobbing hard when Charles made it to her. She was scared that everyone had left her behind and neither Charles nor the girl could see the crowd well. He calmed her as best as he could in the short amount of time that he felt was available and then picked her up and began the trek back.


With the child in his arms, his hearing came back, and Charles was able to hear the lady of the lake screaming at them to get off. He wished that he could tell her that he was listening and obeying, but he knew that she wouldn’t listen. She was too mad. The ice fishermen had disrespected her. She gave full permission during regular winters but hadn’t done so this year.


A mere fifty feet from the shore, Charles felt his left foot go through the ice. He attempted to pull it back up, but his right foot gave way seconds later. He felt himself fall into the water, all feeling lost immediately in the icy water. The girl fell out of his arms and went under, but he was able to pull her back up so that her head was above the water.


Screams coming from the shore were ear piercing. The event was being watched by everyone on shore, but no one had come out to help them originally, fearing making things worse. However, once Charles fell through the ice, two people carefully walked out to them, throwing rope and hoping for the best.


Charles hoisted the girl over to the rope, allowing her to be rescued first. Once she was safely on land, Charles grabbed the rope himself and began pulling himself out of the ice, gently enough not to break any more.


Towels and blankets were thrown on Charles and the girl and someone started their car to allow the two to sit in warmth. An ambulance had been called early on and arrived less than ten minutes after they fell through. The girl got in, but Charles declined service. He had been close to hypothermia before and knew that his rescue came quickly enough this time to prevent anything serious.


As he walked to his truck, Charles walked past the committee chair. He noticed the man looked down, trying to avoid eye contact. At the last minute, while still walking, the man said to Charles that he was glad everyone was okay. Charles stopped walking, thought about the last couple of weeks and all of his pleads to cancel the event. He could feel his face getting red and his chest burning with rage. 


Without hesitation, Charles asked the guy to stop, walked back to him, and hit him so hard that the man hit the snow before he even had a chance to react.


“You almost killed people with your arrogance. Maybe next time you’ll listen to people who have seen others killed out here. It’s not worth it!”