At the cliff’s edge, he gave Gibby a hug, but not the fierce one he felt in his heart. It might have crushed the boy to death. He held him at arm’s length, and studied his face. “Jason tells me you’re okay.”

“I am, yeah.”

He kept his hands on Gibby’s shoulders, but looked left. “Chance?”

Chance nodded, but kept his eyes down.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, the both of you.” French squeezed his son’s shoulders, a final touch, an assurance. “We can talk about it later, okay? There are things I need to understand, but those things can wait, so long as you’re okay. Tell me one more time. Not hurt? Not traumatized?”

“I’m good. We’re good.”

The worst of French’s tension subsided. He looked across the quarry, thinking of his sons, of all his sons. A quiet moment passed. “This is where Robert dove, isn’t it?”

“Right there. Jason did it, too.”

French leaned out, looking down in disbelief. “Is that right?”

“It was just a thing.” Jason shrugged as if the vacuum of that fall wasn’t trying to suck them all down. “Do you guys mind if I have a moment alone with Gibby?”

My father led Chance to the trailhead, and they sat at the forest’s edge, a hundred yards of stone between us. Jason looked from them to me, and when he smiled, I was surprised. It was not the normal smile; nor did it last. It was an eye blink of a smile, and it said a million things. “Let’s talk about the dive,” he said.

“What about it?”

He pointed. “That’s your spot, right?”

“More or less.”

He stepped to that spot. The stone was smooth, the cliff’s edge sharp. Jason leaned out and looked down. “How long have you been working up the nerve?”

“Two years, I guess.”

He dropped a rock, and watched it fall. “The world record is only fifteen feet higher. Did you know that?”

“You care about stuff like that?”

“I heard about it after I made the dive, but yeah. It’s pretty cool.” Jason stepped from the edge, his eyes very bright. “You know that cool is not enough reason to make this dive. You know that, right?”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Really? It’s four seconds, top to bottom. Hit wrong, and it may as well be concrete.” He was quiet, but intent. “You need a reason to make a dive like this. Robert, for instance. Robert was going to Vietnam, and wanted to believe he couldn’t die. He needed that. It’s why he dove, and for him, that reason was good enough.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but come on, Jason. You did it on a wager. You did it for a day out drinking beer.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“It’s what you said.”