We nailed the lid shut, dropped tools, shoved the crate into the water. Weight shifted inside. We moved deeper. There may have been a deliberate noise from within, but we did not stop. After a few minutes we cast the crate adrift into the middle of the moving water, and the weight shifted again threatened to roll steadied stayed upright. We stood and watched until it faded to grey. That night, around the fire, someone asked a question. Eyes stared unwaveringly at flames. Feet shifted. A log cracked. We tried not to think about the sound we couldn’t have heard.