Does he think I won’t react to this narrow jump? What if the wind hadn’t accidentally ripped the bird out of his hand?
Would he have jumped then?
When I’m standing on the ledge and River is still on the slackline, I hold my breath. For a few seconds, he peers down.
“Hey,” I whisper. “I’m here.”
He blinks. “Yeah, I know.” With a long stride, he jumps over to me.
He’s safe. I’m dizzy with happiness. For a tiny moment, I allow myself to breathe a sigh of relief. I managed to get him off the highline. Nothing happened. He’s alive.
As he climbs to the plateau using the rope, I hold my breath. What if his family is waiting for him up there? Or the police? We can’t see it from where we are now. But he behaves normally, holds out his hand to me, and pulls me up.
Alarmed, I look around, but apart from the slackers’ equipment, the plain is still deserted; not even Arizona is here. Strange. I mechanically reach for her jacket. For a moment, I don’t know what to do, but then I decide to go back. A confrontation with the others here on the edge of the abyss, is too dangerous. Maybe that’s why they’re waiting further down.
I quickly slip out of the belt and put it back in its place.
As we walk back along the trail, River grabs my hand. His fingers are cool and sweaty, but this moment feels like the beginning of our journey, and I wonder if the end always feels like the beginning.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask, watching the landscape of rocks and pines. The morning sun bathes the mountain tops in an orange-red sea of flames, but otherwise, it’s quiet and peaceful.
“How nice it is to hear your voice.”
I smile. “Just that?”
River shrugs vaguely. “I don’t know. I feel surreal. Maybe we jumped and just don’t know it.” There’s still that gleam in his eyes. It leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
“Are you okay?”
“You’re with me, Tucks. How could it be wrong?”
I squeeze his fingers. Maybe what I did was a mistake. Maybe he simply had to let June go and is now ready to get healthy. I still don’t see a ranger, my sister, or anyone else.
We keep walking, and after a while, a few young men with wet hair and sports clothes approach us. Maybe they’re the slackers who camped on the mountain. They carry two gallons of water in each hand, and I realize that they must have been at the Upper Falls to swim and fetch water. After all, there are enough streams and pools around here.
“Did you know there was a line up here?” I ask River once they are out of earshot. Somehow, everything I say feels like a betrayal, but River just nods innocently.
“There are always a few slackliners here. And I read in a forum that a big event is going to take place here soon.” Suddenly, he stops and shakes his head. “Hey...”
We look at each other. The air vibrates, and tiny dust particles glow in the sun like fireflies. Then, he gently takes my face in his hands and bends down to me. I feel his breath on my lips, see the deep, warm sparkle in his eyes. Blue, as infinitely blue as a free fall. So close.
“Tucks... I told you that I love you. But I didn’t understand how much until now.” His eyes shimmer, and I just want to hold him tight so that no one can rip him away from me. “When I saw you up there with that strange figure-eight knot... no one makes such bad knots, Tucks! What were you thinking?”
Now I have to giggle because he’s almost back to his old self—the River I know—yet, at the same time, that’s exactly what wants to break my heart.
Suddenly, he becomes more serious than ever. “I love your smile and the way you look down when you’re embarrassed. I love how you can say everything without words. I love youbecause you are strong without knowing it, beautiful without seeing it, good without recognizing it.” Tears well up in my eyes, and I hold onto his upper arms while he holds my face in his hands. “I love how you eat and drink. I love your love of beautiful words, your kisses, and all your words, even the ones typed on your phone.” It doesn’t help; the tears stream uncontrollably down my face. I betrayed him, and he’s telling me how much he loves me. “I love how you laugh and cry. Softly or loudly, it doesn’t matter.”
I make a strange noise that is a mixture of laughter and sobbing. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“It’s not enough,” River whispers. “It’s never enough, even when you’re embarrassed and lower your gaze. I love you because you are you and because I could be River McFarley with you for a whole summer.”
“Could?” I ask.
My cell phone buzzes. We let go of each other, and I pull it out of my pocket.
“Mr. Spock, a.k.a. your brother?”
“Hm.” I lie. The message is from Arizona:Come back the way you came. They watched everything from a trail below. Access too risky—he could escape and jump.
