We thought it was abandoned. That's why we went. A place to be alone. We were more worried about someone busting us for trespassing or underage drinking. But it would've been better if some authority figure had been around.
Stan got drunk real quick. I think he was scared; he wanted to feel numb. Then the alcohol gave him courage. He rolled up his pantcuffs to the knee and waded to the inside of the big fish. He shouted back to us and said it was beautiful. A mural or something. I didn't want to get wet, so I stayed on the shore. We couldn't see him once he got all the way in.
We didn't see who got Stan. There was a a loud commotion and splashing, but we still couldn't see inside the big fish. Instead of going after him, we ran to look for help.
Under the rusted Tilt-a-Whirl we saw a sleeping bag rolled out on top of some cardboard. Whoever got him must've had a stiff back.