When Brian left the spillway hole for a rest on the bank, I joined him. "Take my spot," I said. He was reluctant, then eventually agreed, but when he went back into the river, he waded too far upstream--past where the trout were rising. Afraid we'd lose the spot, I reclaimed the hole and caught another trout. Then another. Brian was close enough now that he could see what he'd been missing. And close enough to hear my voice: "Get over here!" That might've been the first time I ever gave my big brother an order.