Part 22 (2/2)

”It's just that there isn't a lot of room for miscalculation,” Mark said. ”Dixie? Is this safe?”

Dixie had no qualms. ”JT wouldn't take just anyone up there,” she told Jill and Mark. ”He's been watching Sam the whole trip. Sam's a coordinated kid. He'll be fine. And JT's done it a million times. He knows this spot like the back of his hand.” She paused to wave at Sam. ”Of course, it's up to you and Mark. But I'd trust JT.”

That was the thing, Jill thought. You had to trust the guides. You had to trust them when they told you not not to do something; but you also had to trust them when they gave you the go-ahead-not just because it was safe in their eyes, but because they knew you'd be better off for having done it. to do something; but you also had to trust them when they gave you the go-ahead-not just because it was safe in their eyes, but because they knew you'd be better off for having done it.

”I think it's okay, then,” said Mark.

”I think it's okay too,” she said. And she found his hand and squeezed it.

Everybody was looking up now. JT had stepped back, and Sam stood poised at the edge of the lip. Jill waved to him. He wrung his hands at his side. She thought of changing her mind. Then Sam took a small step back and leapt straight out.

A collective gasp rose from the group.

Sam flailed in the air before hitting the water dead smack in the middle of the pool. The impact sealed in upon itself. The surface foamed; ripples rolled swiftly to the edges of the basin and then back in upon themselves. And then, five feet from the bull's-eye, the water broke and Sam's head popped up, his eyes wide with shock as he sculled about in a moment of disorientation before spotting the group on the nearby ledge. He swam toward them, and Dixie leaned over and extended an arm.

”Come on up quick, so JT can jump!” and she hoisted the boy up onto the ledge. His teeth chattered as he huddled against Dixie, and Jill had the good sense not to put her arms around him at this time. They all craned their necks again, and there went JT, falling in a half-seated position, hitting the water thuddishly in the exact same spot as Sam. Within seconds his head emerged and he gave it a shake, and with three strong b.r.e.a.s.t.strokes he swam to the edge of the rock, where both Dixie and Sam extended their arms.

”So what'd you think, kiddo?” said JT, water dripping from his baggy shorts. It was clear he viewed Sam as a member of an exclusive club now.

”It was pretty cool,” said Sam nonchalantly. ”Didn't you want to go, Matthew?”

”No,” said Matthew. ”I don't like heights.” And Jill was flabbergasted at this level of maturity in her son, that he wouldn't try to go just because his younger brother had gone.

”Grab your water bottles, gang,” JT called out. ”Fun's over. Keep up the pace. We still have some river miles to make when we get back.”

”Were you scared?” Mark asked Sam as they headed down the trail.

”Nope.”

”What was JT saying up there?”

”He was telling me to hold on to the family jewels,” Sam said, with dignity and pride.

Jill had to think a moment, to figure out the meaning.

”And did you?” Mark asked Sam, man to man.

”Yup.”

”Good,” said Mark, tousling the boy's head.

Up ahead, Susan, Evelyn, and Mitch.e.l.l stayed close together. Jill sensed they were talking about her and Mark and their decision to let Sam jump. She could understand Evelyn and Mitch.e.l.l being quick to condemn, but she was a little mystified by Susan. After all that wine they'd drunk together, she thought they were in agreement on most issues. She felt a little betrayed, like she did whenever Mark voted Republican.

The h.e.l.l with them, she thought. They don't know Sam like we do.

”Were we crazy?” she asked Mark as they ducked through the leafy thicket of wild grape.

”Nah,” said Mark. ”Sam was great.”

Jill smiled. ”He was, wasn't he?”

”It meant a lot to him. If we made him come down, think how humiliated he'd have been. You can't do that to your kid. Not on the river. Not at age twelve.”

”You can if it's a mile high.”

”But it wasn't.”

”No, it wasn't. I really went by what Dixie said,” said Jill, feeling a weight suddenly lifting. ”I figured if JT thought it was safe, then it was safe. But I don't think some of the others felt that way.”

”That's their problem, then,” Mark declared, and it gave her a thrill to hear him say that. If they'd not been in such a rush to get back, if they'd not been in such a heavily used area, Jill would have grabbed her husband's hand and dragged him off behind a tree for the quickest f.u.c.k in the history of their marriage.

As it was, she had to wait until after dinner that evening, when JT got out his book of poetry and read to them all, and Jill and Mark were able to slip away unnoticed. Years later she would still be able to recall kneeling in the sand, Mark's fingers fluttering on her skin, the tacky warmth of his neck, the black river moving soundlessly in the night as they lay down together.

36.

Day Ten Mile 157 In Susan's view, it was the remoteness of their location that made Jill and Mark's decision so imprudent. What if the boy had cracked his head open? It wasn't like they were at a city park, with a hospital just down the road.

”I personally don't think even JT should have jumped,” Evelyn confided as they headed down the trail. ”He's our Trip Leader. What if he got hurt? Where would we be then?”

”Up s.h.i.+t creek,” Mitch.e.l.l declared. ”He could have jeopardized the trip for everyone. Gotta remember, we're paying two hundred fifty bucks a day. That's a lot of money to waste just waiting around for a helicopter.”

”Maybe Jill and Mark weren't thinking clearly,” said Susan. ”They haven't been speaking much. Maybe neither one of them wanted to call the shot.”

”But it's the first thing you learn in wilderness school,” Evelyn said indignantly. ”You don't take unnecessary risks. And how was JT so sure that things hadn't changed since the last jump? What if there was a boulder he didn't know about? What if Sam was off by a couple of inches?”

Mitch.e.l.l grumbled his agreement, and he and Evelyn continued to imagine worst-case scenarios as they continued down the trail. Susan herself wondered what she would say at happy hour tonight. She really didn't feel like going off to drink wine with Jill, because she was afraid she wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut. What kind of a mother are you, letting your son jump off a cliff, miles from nowhere? What kind of a mother are you, letting your son jump off a cliff, miles from nowhere?

For once, Susan felt like she was on the same side as the Mother b.i.t.c.h.

Peter and Amy tromped along the trail, Amy in front, Peter behind.

”I should have jumped,” Peter kept saying. ”Why didn't I jump?”

”Would you shut up?”

”I would have been fine. Sam did it. Sam was fine. It was my only opportunity. I'll never be back here. Hey!” he exclaimed as a branch snapped back in his face.

”Sorry.”

”This is why I hate hiking,” Peter said. ”I'm always getting hit with branches. That and poison ivy. Is there poison ivy here, do you think?”

”I don't know.”

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