It got louder. It was coming closer to us.

“Wait a minute,” Tyler said. “It sounds like-”

“He’s coming this way,” Leon said.

“He can’t. Not this close. He’ll run right into the pilings.”

Louder and louder. The unmistakable roar of a powerful boat, and now that it was getting closer, the slapping of the hull against the water.

We saw it. A dark shape, moving fast. Like it was coming right at us. Like it would leap onto the shore and run us over.

“Stop!” Tyler yelled. He ran down onto his dock. “Cut your motor!”

It was useless. There was no way the driver could hear him. The boat kept coming, and then finally it turned to its port side. It wouldn’t hit the dock now. But the pilings.

“Stop! Turn around!”

It didn’t. The boat was still just a dark shape in the water, and from where we were standing we could barely tell how big it was. But one thing was certain. The realization probably hit all three of us at exactly the same time. We were about to witness something truly horrible.

I didn’t just hear the impact. I felt it in my stomach. It was the long wrenching scrape of the boat’s hull against the wooden pilings, far worse than nails on a blackboard. It all happened within two seconds. Before I could even draw another breath the boat had stopped dead. The engine was still churning at the water.

“We need to get out there,” Tyler said. He was already moving.

“Your boat…”

“It’s on land. I’ll get Phil’s.” He was heading toward his next-door neighbor’s house. “Call 911! Tell them to send an ambulance and to relay to the Coast Guard.”

Leon pulled a cell phone out of his back pocket and started dialing. As he spoke to the dispatcher, I went down to the dock and looked out at the wreck. It was maybe two hundred yards out. I had no idea how deep the water was. I was wondering if I should dive in, but decided against it. If Tyler could get a boat running, I’d be a lot more helpful riding along with him.