“C’mon in!” they waved to me. I shook my head and fished in my pockets for my cigarettes. As I shrank back against the soft, putty-colored trunk of the tree, I felt as I had for the last three days, torn between anger toward my mother and the richness of my surroundings. My biggest fear was that I could weaken and be pulled over the line into enjoying myself. What would be so terrible? I had asked myself a dozen times. What if I just let myself have a good time with Mirabelle and my mother and even Bea? Bad idea, Jackie, I kept reminding myself. Your mother is not a person you can suddenly become girlfriends with. I shut my eyes and beckoned my wall of defense to rise and protect me from the beauty of Angel Falls. I concentrated on the smell of rotting mangoes and inhaled deeply.

A hand tapped my shoulder. Mirabelle stood before me in a red, white, and blue one-piece bathing suit a size too small for her long torso.

“I got it last Fourth of July,” she said proudly.

“Nice.” I closed my eyes again.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

I opened my eyes.

“I’ll go in first and show you it’s not so bad,” she offered. “You just have to get used to it.”

Go away, I wanted to say. Leave me alone.

I shook my head. “Sorry, kid. Too cold for me.”

“Suit yourself,” Mirabelle sighed and with a running start, dove straight under the water. I peered at her from behind my dark glasses. She swam like a seal pup, wriggling just below the ceiling of glassy water then surfacing and launching into a smooth crawl, her long, skinny legs fluttering like a propeller. I caught myself smiling. How could I help but admire her ease? She scrambled up onto a flat, moss-covered rock and stretched out her slick body, inviting the sun to bake her bare back. Had Merilee thought to put sunscreen on her? I got up and walked to the water’s edge.

“Are you wearing sunscreen?” I yelled.

Her head popped up, long blonde hair falling in drippy ropes in front of her eyes.

“Can’t hear you,” she mouthed, pointing to the falls.

I waved and retreated under the security of my tree.