At the last possible second, a wave pushes us sideways. The logs scrape the ravine wall, and then we’re back in the middle.

The worst must be over now, right?

Wrong. Because an eddy snatches the raft, pulling us toward the opposite shore. The river suddenly takes a steep drop. We plunge into the foaming rapids, and for a moment, the raft is underwater, sinking out from under us. Then it rises, tipping us backward, and crashes forward again.

Something is wrong. The ropes that hold the raft together are loosening. And dead ahead, a huge rock. We’re aiming right at it, carried on the crest of a wave.

We slam into the rock. Imani and Mia shoot over the top and land on the sandy shore. I’m thrown sideways, my hands tangled in the rope. I want to get off, try to swim to the shore, but I can’t.

I’m tied to the dying raft as the waves tear it apart. The separated logs twirl into the raging current, and I’m dragged underwater by the tangle of ropes.

Can’t breathe. Can’t see.

If I can’t get loose, I’ll drown.

26. Hands from Heaven

Your life is supposed to flash before you if you’re about to die. What flashes before me is my family. My little brothers, Phil, Jon, and Mark. In my mind, they’re laughing, which is something they do a lot. Mom looks worried, because that’s typical for her. And Dad is apologizing, as usual. Sorry, Son, I’ll get better, I promise.

I miss them so much!

Then do something to stay alive. Try harder.

I’m below the surface of a raging river, tangled in a rope. The broken raft is dragging me under. Holding my breath feels like a big clamp tightening on my chest.

In about five seconds, I’ll drown. The surge of terror gives me enough strength to pull my arm free of the rope. I bob to the surface just long enough to take a breath, then one of the tumbling logs bumps me back under.

Got to get away from the logs!

I’m kicking with all my might, struggling to keep my head above the waves. But like I said, I’m not much of a swimmer. I hate it when water goes up my nose, that was my excuse for avoiding swimming lessons.

It doesn’t help that I can’t see. Which way to the shore? No idea. No idea about much of anything, other than staying alive.

The dog paddle is getting me nowhere. My body decides to quit trying to escape from the raging current. Keeping my head up requires all of my strength. I’m fighting the river that wants to pull me under. The crazy, crazy river.