The Edge by Roland Smith

he’ll turn up,” I said. “He tends to wander off. He’ll be there when we need him.”
    Phillip looked at his watch. “Well, I need him now.” He looked at Mom. “I want to leave in twenty minutes. Think you can get everyone moving in the right direction? I need to direct breaking camp.”
    â€œBut we’re not really breaking camp for several days,” she said.
    Phillip took a deep breath. “Dear God, give me patience. Of course we’re not breaking camp permanently today, but on the day we break camp, the weather might be lousy, or something else might go wrong. We need to get our shots when we can, not necessarily in chronological order. When the video airs, it will look like first-person present tense. I’ll make that happen in the editing room. Not here. We’re shooting raw video. The shots are like words. We’ll use the shots to tell a story. It takes hours and hours of film to make five minutes of actual air time . . .”
    I smiled. For the first time, I kind of liked Phillip. Vincent would totally understand what Phillip was saying. It was exactly how Vincent explained the writing process.
    Phillip continued talking to my mom. “Let’s get moving. If Zopa shows up, he can lead the group to the cliff. If he doesn’t, you’ll be leading them, providing you know where it is.”
    â€œI know where it is, but I’m a little concerned about Zopa. We might want to—”
    Phillip raised his voice. “This is not summer camp! You’re not a bunch of little kids. We have a limited amount of time to pull this thing off. We’re not waiting on Zopa or anyone else. Let’s get moving!”
    Everyone got moving.
    â€œWhat are you smiling about?” Mom asked when we got to our tents.
    â€œPhillip. I think he just took charge.”
    â€œYou can’t tell people you’re in charge. You have to show people, and I guess that’s exactly what he just did, but I’m still worried about Zopa.”
    â€œHe disappears,” I said. “He’ll show up when we need him.”
    â€œWhere do you think he is?”
    I shrugged. But I noticed that the camel and the donkey were no longer tied up outside his tent.
    Â 
    ZOPA HAD NOT RETURNED by the time we left camp. Cindy and Ethan stayed behind. Phillip didn’t say a word to either one of them that I saw. I told Ethan to tell Zopa where we were headed if he happened to return, which was probably unnecessary. Zopa would know where we were going. He always did.
    JR, Jack, and Will recorded our every move and word under Phillip’s direction, which meant they had to run across the scree to get in front of us, film us passing, then run ahead again, covering twice as much ground as we were, with heavier equipment. Not easy after falling off a cliff the night before.
    (Note to self:
Do not become a videographer.
)
    But they didn’t complain. It was as if the project was fueling them with superhuman endurance. Phillip seemed to have come into his own too, making suggestions for shots, asking us interview questions as we walked. I think having Cindy dump him, if that was what she’d done, had reminded him what he was there for. He was actually smiling from time to time, telling everyone they were doing a great job. Rafe tried to hog Alessia, but every time Phillip caught him doing this, he broke them apart, making Alessia walk alone or with one of us. I’d caught a couple of Alessia’s answers to Phillip’s questions, and it was clear to me who was going to be the star of the show.
    When the cliff came into view, Phillip slowed us down because he needed to pick out what he called the “long shot.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by this, so I asked JR.
    â€œPhillip hasn’t told you what he’s doing yet?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI don’t think it’s a big secret, and it’s kind of cool. You’re