“Let’s go,” he said. “It’s not far.”

They walked through the morning, clambering along the bank, past a waterfall and two more pools, through a bog that reeked of sulfur and sucked at their feet.

The river grew wider, deeper. Then the landscape opened and poured into a dark lake.

Without hesitating, Bullfrog waded into the mouth of the river. He walked until the water reached his hips, splitting and closing around him. Then he looked back and held out his hand. Mara walked into the water and took it. She reached back for Ashley. With each step they fought the current. They held each other up.

The lakeshore was rocky, thick with pine. They followed it until they neared an island. “Through the trees,” Bullfrog said. “What do you see?”

Mara saw trees and branches. The same as they’d seen for weeks. And then a flash, a ray of sun. But the sun was behind them.

“What is it?” she said.

“The way the light hits,” said Bullfrog. “I think it’s glass.”

Mara turned to Ashley, to see her face. But Ashley was already in the lake.

29

Ashley swam for a long time. Her head grew smaller and smaller, a shrinking dot that flickered in the glare of the water. Then she reached the island and disappeared.

Bullfrog and Mara built a fire on shore and waited. It was a big lake and neither of them was a strong enough swimmer to follow. Ashley knew where they were. This part was hers.

“It’s not that I like being gone,” said Bullfrog, chucking a pebble into the lake.

“What?”

“She might just be better off without me.”

“Your daughter?”

He threw a bigger rock in the lake, and it splashed. His eyes were red. So Mara threw a rock, too.

“Well,” said Mara. “We like you around.”

Finally there was a movement in the distance, flashes on the water, and a dark shape growing closer.

It was a dream. They were dreaming. Ashley came to them in a canoe, and they climbed into it. It was a small canoe, riding low, and cold water splashed over the sides. There was one paddle, and they took turns with it. Whoever didn’t have the paddle pushed water with their hands. For a time it felt that they were not moving at all, and then they came to the island and climbed out.

The cabin was barely visible through the trees. Without the glare of sunlight on the glass window, they would never have known it was there; it seemed a miracle that Bullfrog had spotted it at all. They pulled the canoe high on a muddy bank. Pushed through grass as tall as their thighs, and then they had reached the front step, and then they were at the door of this thing that was built and solid and real and that they themselves had not made.

The door was locked. Bullfrog felt around the doorframe and Mara turned over rocks below the window, and sure enough, under a stone, she found a key. It worked. The door opened, and they all walked inside.