37
CODY
Penn leads Cody farther up the river.
It’s loud-going. Both of them squish in their wet boots, but they’re grinning about it.
The farther they go, the wider the river is cut, the more restless the rivulets that froth and whip and emit their breathless screams, faster and faster, wilder and wilder, till they break abruptly at the edge of a cliff.
Cody goes forth as far as she dares, and peers down at the waterfall beneath them. She calls it violent and magnificent.
Penn says that it’s perfect.
“Nothing can slow it down,” he says. “But follow that river a ways, and it’ll be gentle again.”
He sits on the green-gray, calcified stone. His legs dangle over the mountainside. The river sprays his cheek.
Cody sits down beside him. She leans back on her hands and stares up at
