about wearing his boots when his mother put her hand on his shoulder. Her soft eyes had searched his as she said, âJack, your father and I are trying to smooth out the troubles between you and Ethan. Iâm asking you to please try. Please?â
So Jack was trying to be halfway civil. It was more for himself, really, since he couldnât let Ethan ruin this day. Not one this important.
Only a hundred yards from the end of the paved trail, the water level had risen from ankle deep to hip deepâat least for Steven. Since the boys werenât as tall, the water reached all the way to their ribs before the river became shallower again. The current wasnât strong enough to bother them, but they definitely felt it pushing against their legs. And the water felt cold.
Each step stirred up sand and gravel from the river bottom; Jackâs shoes were beginning to fill with the stuff. He really wanted to sit down and empty the sand out of his shoes, but there was no place close by to sit. No riverbank, no pile of rocks to climb on, only sheer, slick canyon walls. Both Jack and his dad had slung their cameras on straps around their necks, and they stopped often to take picturesâstraight up!
âWow, Dad, did you get that shot? Itâs great!â Jack tried to sound extra enthusiastic since Ethan didnât have a camera, and he was still mad enough to try to needle Ethan wherever he could. Craning back, Jack hit the button on his camera again and again. The view was nothing short of incredible.
âTry to frame the sky with the walls,â his father instructed. Jack bent backward even farther; he liked the sensation of standing still in the river and slowly, slowly raising his gaze, from the base of the sheer-walled, orange-colored gorgeâup and up and up even higherâtill his eyes reached the very top of the cliffs. The sight was dizzying. It made him feel like he was going to topple over backward.
Two more hours would have to pass before the sun would stand directly over them, warm enough to dry them partway. Only at midday would they be able to see the sun itselfâthe rest of the time it was hidden by the high, shadowed, nearly vertical canyon walls. The water was about 60 degreesâreal chillyâand in his wet clothes Jack was beginning to feel uncomfortable. To get a chance to rest, he called out, âDad, did you know your backpack strap isnât fastened around your chest? Wait up for a minute, and Iâll fix it for you.â
Steven answered, âI left it unfastened on purpose. If I step into a deep hole, like up to my neck, the packâll float so the water wonât rush into it as much. If I had it strapped around me, itâd get dunked. Whoa! Like now!â Steven yelled. Not only had he stepped into a hole, heâd tripped into it face first. But even as he fell, he threw up his arms, holding the camera high, managing to keep it from getting wet. The fall jolted his hiking stick out of his hand. It drifted slowly down river.
Ethan started to laughâthe first time Jack had ever heard Ethan Ingawanup laughing out loud. âYaaah!â Steven yelled, floundering as he hauled himself to his feet. âHey, grab my stick! Itâs coming right at you. See it?â Gesturing toward the stick made him veer off balance, and he fell once more into the water, this time bottom first, with his backpack floating behind him. Only his head, and his arm holding up the camera, stuck up above the waterâs surface. He looked like a submerged Statue of Liberty.
Ethan was practically bent over laughing, and Jack felt irritation surge through him. What right did Ethan have to mock Jackâs father, especially after the way Steven was always taking Ethanâs side against Jack, always standing up for him, always telling everyone to be so nice to poor little underprivileged Ethan. âKnock it off!â Jack snarled.
âHey, itâs as much
So Jack was trying to be halfway civil. It was more for himself, really, since he couldnât let Ethan ruin this day. Not one this important.
Only a hundred yards from the end of the paved trail, the water level had risen from ankle deep to hip deepâat least for Steven. Since the boys werenât as tall, the water reached all the way to their ribs before the river became shallower again. The current wasnât strong enough to bother them, but they definitely felt it pushing against their legs. And the water felt cold.
Each step stirred up sand and gravel from the river bottom; Jackâs shoes were beginning to fill with the stuff. He really wanted to sit down and empty the sand out of his shoes, but there was no place close by to sit. No riverbank, no pile of rocks to climb on, only sheer, slick canyon walls. Both Jack and his dad had slung their cameras on straps around their necks, and they stopped often to take picturesâstraight up!
âWow, Dad, did you get that shot? Itâs great!â Jack tried to sound extra enthusiastic since Ethan didnât have a camera, and he was still mad enough to try to needle Ethan wherever he could. Craning back, Jack hit the button on his camera again and again. The view was nothing short of incredible.
âTry to frame the sky with the walls,â his father instructed. Jack bent backward even farther; he liked the sensation of standing still in the river and slowly, slowly raising his gaze, from the base of the sheer-walled, orange-colored gorgeâup and up and up even higherâtill his eyes reached the very top of the cliffs. The sight was dizzying. It made him feel like he was going to topple over backward.
Two more hours would have to pass before the sun would stand directly over them, warm enough to dry them partway. Only at midday would they be able to see the sun itselfâthe rest of the time it was hidden by the high, shadowed, nearly vertical canyon walls. The water was about 60 degreesâreal chillyâand in his wet clothes Jack was beginning to feel uncomfortable. To get a chance to rest, he called out, âDad, did you know your backpack strap isnât fastened around your chest? Wait up for a minute, and Iâll fix it for you.â
Steven answered, âI left it unfastened on purpose. If I step into a deep hole, like up to my neck, the packâll float so the water wonât rush into it as much. If I had it strapped around me, itâd get dunked. Whoa! Like now!â Steven yelled. Not only had he stepped into a hole, heâd tripped into it face first. But even as he fell, he threw up his arms, holding the camera high, managing to keep it from getting wet. The fall jolted his hiking stick out of his hand. It drifted slowly down river.
Ethan started to laughâthe first time Jack had ever heard Ethan Ingawanup laughing out loud. âYaaah!â Steven yelled, floundering as he hauled himself to his feet. âHey, grab my stick! Itâs coming right at you. See it?â Gesturing toward the stick made him veer off balance, and he fell once more into the water, this time bottom first, with his backpack floating behind him. Only his head, and his arm holding up the camera, stuck up above the waterâs surface. He looked like a submerged Statue of Liberty.
Ethan was practically bent over laughing, and Jack felt irritation surge through him. What right did Ethan have to mock Jackâs father, especially after the way Steven was always taking Ethanâs side against Jack, always standing up for him, always telling everyone to be so nice to poor little underprivileged Ethan. âKnock it off!â Jack snarled.
âHey, itâs as much
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