have gotten stronger. Our practices have paid off, Ria.”
“It’s also the rock. You do realize the rock makes it easier than a dangling rope?” She felt like she must have missed something.
Cotton was quiet a minute, then burst out laughing. “I was so excited for a second.”
“It’s still impressive.”
Damp and cold, she felt anxious waiting for her turn. Agitated and impatient. She counted the seconds it took for Cotton to send the rope and harness down for her, the ridiculous slow of her fingers fumbling until Leo finally helped her get it right. She was eating up more of their time. No wonder Leo didn’t want her tagging along.
Her rush to climb made her clumsy. It didn’t help to have numb fingers and clompy feet. At one point she slipped off the rock and fell backward, sliding at least three feet down before the rope snapped tight, stopping her from falling, but banging her knee against the rock. Damn, that hurt.
Somehow, in a fog of motion, they were back to the main tunnel. The tight fit didn’t bother her this time. She was too busy concentrating on making her hands and knees move forward. Every inch of her felt too heavy. So slow. She was such a wuss.
As they stepped into the late-afternoon sunshine, she was hit with a wave of dizzy. Something about the angle of the sun through the branches and the smell of the woods and the way she’d been tense and tight for the last couple of hours made her waver. The world was out of focus. She blinked, realized she must’ve lost her contacts when she’d been opening her eyes in the cave pool. Her legs turned limp and rubbery, like her vision. Instinctively, she squatted. She put her head lower than her knees and concentrated on breathing.
“Could you be hungry? That was a lot of work swimming.”
Cotton was right. She felt dumb not to think of it. But the way her head ached, she wasn’t thinking much of anything. All she felt was relief that he was here. Of course he’d never leave her behind. She murmured, “If wishes were fishes and fishes could sing . . .”
“Then we’d all be musicians with a line and a string.”
“You finished it, Cotton. I couldn’t remember it, but you did.”
“We sang it in Ms. Q’s room.”
“Give her a ride,” said Leo.
It took a minute, but then Cotton said, “Yes. Climb on my back.” He squatted in the dirt.
“Like a piggyback?”
“Piggyback.” He laughed. “Piggy. Back. Piggyback.”
“Oink, oink,” she said.
Even Leo laughed. “Oh boy. We need to get home.”
Twenty-Four
At Cotton’s house, she slipped off his back, murmuring, “You have such a different view of the world.”
Her stomach and chest, the part of her she’d had pressed against him, felt suddenly cool. His shirt had a damp imprint of her. He turned around and stood beside her, watching. Positioned like he was ready to catch her.
“Sorry about that.” Standing in his backyard, with the sun low in the sky, she felt better. Not enough to be embarrassed she’d let him carry her, but at least her head felt reconnected to the rest of her. She took a step and felt a rush of woozy behind her blurry eyes.
“Get her food. I’ll clean the gear.”
They left Leo with the hose while Cotton led her through the garage, stopping to wash their hands and faces in the large metal sink. The swirls of mud circled around the drain, little bits and pieces of dirt swimming and floating and sinking toward the grate. The smallest bits looked bright and shiny, close to brilliant against the silvery basin.
“Here’s a towel.” Cotton broke her gaze.
Stepping into his house set off every one of her senses. First there was the smell—sweet and yeasty, like baking bread, mixed in with something clean and lemony. She heard voices from somewhere, maybe upstairs, and the light from the corner made the room cozy. It was so much warmer inside. It felt like the air was pressing on her, hugging her from all around.
Cotton yelled down the hallway, “I’m home!” then turned to her and said, “Sit.”
She settled on a stool at the counter overlooking the kitchen. She wasn’t sure of the time, but couldn’t bring herself to care, either. Feeling slow and dozy, she traced the lines of minerals within the granite countertop. It reminded her of the cave, but this surface was smooth and even beneath her fingertips. The television, from down the hall in the family