“Well, yeah…,” she says as I go in for another kiss, but her lips are pulled into a mischievous smile instead. “But slow down, because we can’t make them like this.”
I laugh at that and pull her away from the tree, back onto the path.
“So should I pay the money for the apartment tonight?” I ask.
“Considering all my money is in cash in a cigar box under my bed…”
“Yeah, I’ll pay it tonight.” I shake my head at her. “You know, you’re going to have to open a bank account eventually, Nora,” I tell heragain.She refuses to, because her mom has been paying her under the table in cash for so long that she thinks the IRS is going to come after her or something… I don’t know.
“So, I’ve really been thinking a lot about that last documentary I watched…,” she starts, ignoring my comment and enthusiastically swinging around a skinny tree to face me. “I think I’m going to do it, babe, I’m really going to try the veganism thing. Did you know it takes over six hundred gallons of water to produceonehamburger? The way we eat is killing the planet, and I probably eat more meat than most people out there. I mean, I know beef is like water to us Martins, and it’s basically the only thing I survive on, but pretty soon we’ll be out of here and it just seems like such a small sacrifice that does so much good and…” I catch her face in my hands before she can doubt herself any more, and her hazel eyes meet mine.
“I believe in you,” I tell her, and I do. “Plus, you’ll have us looking like we actually belong in California.” I tickle her in the stomach, and she jumps out of reach but almost trips on a rotting stump in the process.
The path grows more uneven the farther we walk and the bank gradually lifts higher from the surface of the crick, but the water gets deeper and wider as we near the reservoir.
“Whoa,” Nora says. “This is new.” Soon we’re standing about fifteen feet above the crick, looking at a fallen oak tree stretching the whole way across the ravine. I walk over to inspect the woven maze of roots that was unearthed when it fell, leaving behind a six-foot-wide crater, but Nora is eyeing the trunk.
“Come on. Don’t.” I reach for the bottom of her shorts, but she has already leapt onto it and taken a few steps out so that she’s hovering over the ravine.
“It’s sturdy. See.” She jumps up and down, but her bootsknock pieces of bark through the air and into the coursing water down below in a way that’s not that convincing.
“Nora, please?” I plead, holding my palms out toward her as if I can will her to come back… like that’s ever worked before.
I watch in silence, my stomach doing flips as she takes another ten confident steps, putting her halfway across. She makes it look as simple as walking down the sidewalk, but I still hold my breath until she makes it safely to the far bank.
“Your turn!” she shouts, her voice echoing with the rush of the water between us. I peek over the edge and quickly step backward to a safe distance. Nora cups her hands around her mouth. “You want to live your life playing it safe or take a little risk once in a while?”
“Playing it safe!” I yell back without hesitation.
She grins. “Come on! We can walk back on this side, maybe try to find a new path while we still can!”
“Sometimes I hate that can-do spirit of yours!” I shout, forcing myself to step out onto the thick trunk. Obviously she’s not going to budge on this one.
“You’ll thank me someday.” She laughs and watches as I move across, one three-inch step at a time. I want to sayI doubt that, but each step uses all my concentration.
I try to focus only on the tree under my feet, but my eyes keep refocusing on the water a full story below.
The tree.
The water.
The tree.
The water.
My breath hitches in my lungs as a gust of wind blowsthrough the ravine. I crouch down to steady myself, digging my fingers into the shallow grooves of the bark. A splinter jabs under my fingernail, but I barely feel it at all.
“Stevie,” Nora calls from somewhere too far away. “You’re okay.”
You’re okay. You’re okay,I repeat over and over in my head, and then quietly under my breath.
“Hey, Stevie, look at me,” she says. Slowly, I pick my head up to find her crouched down on the other end of the tree, just a couple of yards away. “Good.” She smiles. “Just keep your eyes on me, babe.” Her voice is even, but tense.
“Okay,” I croak.
I stand up again on my jelly legs, then remind myself to breathe with each step. As much as my eyes want to look down, I force them to stay glued to Nora.
My legs turn to jelly again for a different reason as I take her in.
