Being taller and wider than me, Tank cups his hands and boosts me as I step into his linked palms. The chimney has a series of small step-like indentations up the side. The width and spacing of the “steps” look safe enough to walk up, as long as we keep our bodies against the chimney for balance.

Problem is, the first step is at least ten feet off the ground, meaning I have to pull myself up once I get hold of the ledge. The thick ivy isn’t making the task any easier. Hanging there, I realize this is the equivalent of trying to do chin-ups in a rainforest canopy. And sure enough, my reach falls short on the first attempt. My palms scrape brick all the way down. Tank has to break my fall. I’m in pain and my forearms itch from the ivy, but I don’t say a word, just put my foot back into Tank’s palms and let him shove me skyward again.

This time I make it, digging my fingertips into the brick and pulling myself up until I’m standing on the first ledge.

“Good job,” Tank whispers up at me. “Can you make it on your own?”

“Think so.” The steps are wider than I thought, and I’ll only have to climb four more before being able to leap onto the roof. “I hope so.”

“Get going,” Tank says. “I’ll be right behind you. We’ll have a smoke when we get on top.”

I take a deep breath and scale the second step with ease. But then the angle between the ledges changes and I have to bear-crawl my way up the next two. When I look down, Tank has already lifted himself onto the first step with effortless grace. He’s obviously done a lot more chin-ups in his life than I have. Anyway, my stomach whips around a bit as I realize the distance between the roof and the last step is greater than I’d anticipated.

Feeling Tank closing the gap below, I take a deep breath and dive for the roof.

I land on my side, my body hitting the thick slate tiles with a dull thud. The pain in my ribs is intense. I groan. Sitting up, I see Tank standing on the top ledge, eyeing the roof with a doubtful look on his face.

“I think I’m too big,” he says.

“And you’ll be too loud,” I say, rubbing my side. “If anybody’s sleeping, I just woke them up.” I lift myself to my feet. “I’m coming down.”

“No,” he whispers, and launches himself toward the roof. He lands in front of me, barely making it onto the slate. The roof shakes like an active fault line. I lose my balance and nearly fall to a premature death.