“Unfortunately, I went to an all-girls boarding school in southern Virginia,” she said with a grimace. “I’m guessing you didn’t play us.”

“Can’t imagine high school without basketball.”

“Oh, we had basketball. It was just all very organized and polite.” She glanced across the camp and noticed Rick’s stare. The rain must have awakened him. That familiar, serious, and very mature-looking face had replaced the relaxed, youthful look he had while sleeping. She shifted her gaze to Sanders. Humor etched into every line on his face as he spoke to Rick, a grin making his beard move. When he finished speaking, he laughed and nudged Rick. Rick glanced at Sanders, then blinked and smiled as if the joke finally registered.

Cynthia turned her attention back to Swanson. “Did you join the Army right out of high school?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He paused. “Well, technically before I graduated. I went to basic training in the summer between my junior and senior year. Drilled with the Guard my senior year. I needed a job, and the idea of flipping burgers held no appeal.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. What were you, seventeen? Your parents were good with that?”

He shrugged. “My dad thought it was the best thing for me. Turned out he was right.” Swanson’s face hardened, and he looked over her shoulder. For a moment, she thought someone approached from behind her, but then he said, “Roger, wilco,” and she realized he was listening to the device in his ear. “Stay put,” he ordered, slipping out from under the poncho. Rick joined him, and the two disappeared into the wet jungle.

The rat-tat-tat of the rain on the waterproof fabric relaxed her. She bowed her head and closed her eyes and tried to repose as the jungle quieted beneath the downpour. She knew as soon as it stopped, everything would come back to life.

She loved the smell of the rain in the jungle. The water mixed with the decayed vegetation, splashed on blooming flowers, and filled leaves that formed natural cups and bowls, and somehow all of it came together to bring a clean, fragrant smell that she’d never experienced anywhere else.

All too soon, the rain quieted, then stopped. She shifted the poncho off of her as the clouds gave way to the sun and blue sky again. The heat of the sun baked the freshly watered earth, and the humidity started to climb. The cry of a bird above signaled the all clear to the rest of the jungle, and almost immediately, the insect and animal noises returned.

She draped Swanson’s poncho over a tree limb, then walked over to Sanders. “Hard to imagine it’s winter back home,” he said. “Never could abide muggy heat. I’d much rather layer up.”