Agnes and Lenny were half a mile from the canyon and had been walking along the main road only a few minutes when the first eighteen-wheeler blew past them. They stood their ground. The speed and movement of the truck thrilled Agnes, who liked to stand close to train tracks for the same reason. Another truck came and then another. They stopped for the first few, the cold blast of wind, the rush of sound. The boy smiled sideways at her, and she smiled back with a shrug.
“Let’s try it backwards,” he said. He turned to face the fields, then tugged her sleeve until she followed suit. Snow and dirt stretched in rippled waves to treed hills. As the truck approached, Lenny closed his eyes so Agnes did too. When the truck drew near, Agnes opened her eyes and took in everything – the ditch, the f
