“No, no thanks.” I moved over to the fold-out bed. “I’m just going to lie over here.” I found my Walkman and untangled my headset. I had Joan Jett cued and ready.

“I can read to you while you fall asleep,” she offered.

“Um,” I hedged. I didn’t want her to feel rejected. “Okay, one story but that’s all.”

“Yay,” she clapped. “I’ll make one up. Do you want a happy story or a scary one?”

“A scary one. Short though.”

“Okay. Shut your eyes, Jackie.”

That night, I lay awake on the cot for hours, hard-hearted, and uncomfortable, ashamed that I couldn’t be the sister Mirabelle needed me to be. I was desperate to talk to Nicole, but I’d have to go to the market to get to a phone booth for privacy, and I wasn’t about to walk the two miles in the dark. I had hoped to go this morning, but then Merilee announced the hike.

The bushes were growing thicker, the path only a couple feet wide. Suddenly nervous, I imagined what might slither out at me from the underbrush. “Are the snakes here poisonous?” I tried to sound matter of fact, like, “Oh, by the way.”

“Mirabelle,” my mother sang out, “Jacqueline wants to know about snakes.”

“There are no snakes in Hawaii,” Mirabelle said. “They’re not allowed.”

“Seriously?” I asked my mother. “No snakes?”

“That’s right,” Merilee said.

“Don’t worry, Jackie,” Mirabelle said, taking my hand.

Her fingers wiggled around mine, her palm was moist. Again, the physical contact made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to hold hands with my sister. She was asking for a promise I couldn’t keep. How could I have a relationship with her if I chose not to see my mother again? When the path forced us to walk single file, I was able to pull my hand away naturally.

The sound of the waterfall was unmistakable now. Branches nicked at my limbs as foliage encircled and pressed against us, like we were being squeezed through a thorny funnel. A ceiling of sharp twigs and leaves brushed the tops of our heads and we stooped to avoid having our hair snagged. Just when it seemed as though we couldn’t possibly push through another inch, the copse miraculously gave way to a clearing, revealing Angel Falls.

Water spilled from a cliff over a hundred feet high then plummeted, crashing into a shaded pool of water encircled by banana and mango trees. Bea smiled at Merilee, who winked back.

“So, Jacqueline, what do you think of our swimming hole?” My mother had to shout to be heard over the thundering falls.

It was amazing, incredible, nirvana.

I shrugged and glanced around coolly; a once-over gesture stolen from my father when he walked into a new place. I shouted back. “It’s all right.”

“We’re on private property.” She giggled mischievously.