Grandpa stood in the surf in waders that went up to his chest. He turned around to make sure that there was no one behind him in the darkness. Then he reached back with both hands on the twelve-foot rod and used it to cast the lure far out over the waves. The reel zinged as the line was pulled out at high speed. Then it slowed and stopped as the lure dropped into the water. The gulls were asleep, and the loudest sound was from the waves washing up on the shore.
Grandpa liked to surf fish at night. He liked being alone so that he could think. He was startled when a voice spoke behind him.
"Sorry if I made you jump, Grandpa," said his granddaughter Megan.
"That's okay, hon," said Grandpa. He waded back out of the surf and put the rod in a holder.
Megan looked out at the ocean and then at the edges of the beach.
"Grandpa?" she asked. "Why does the beach seem narrower right now? Is it because it's night?"
Grandpa smiled and shook his head. "No, it's because of the tides. The tide is in right now; it's high tide. Soon it will start going out again."
Megan looked like she thought he was playing a trick on her. "What makes the water go in and out?" she asked.
"Gravity," said Grandpa.