“Rough night?” I murmured to Robert while my father and Uncle Vance conferred quietly over last-minute plans.
A self-satisfied smile played at the corners of Robert’s mouth. “Let’s just say I owe you one next time you wander into the kitchen.”
“I already pried for details,” Jessie supplied. “No kiss yet, but it was close.”
Robert gave her a sidelong look. “You know, you could at least ask before broadcasting my private affairs.”
“Relax,” Jessie said with feigned innocence. “I only share the good stuff with those you owe.”
“Everyone ready?” my father asked, turning away from my uncle.
We exchanged silent nods, then lined up at the platform’s edge. My father went first, his form cutting cleanly through the air, followed by my uncle and aunt. Robert and Jessie were next—Jessie’s laughter echoing briefly—before I stepped forward to take up the rear.
I hesitated for a moment, glancing back over my shoulder as our treetop community receded behind me, blending seamlessly into the endless green. Within moments, it was lost to the camouflage of the jungle, as if it had never existedat all.
The first part of the journey was mostly uneventful, since we could rely on zip lines entirely. Each line had been painstakingly installed over decades of work at the correct angle, to ensure sufficient acceleration. Now we soared with the eagles and the vivid blue macaws, while the warm sun kissed our skin.
I groaned internally when we hit the end of the first batch of lines. After gathering on the musty deck of the final tree, we descended a rickety ladder down to the undergrowth. This was when things became dicey.
The ladder itself proved to be a nasty obstacle. My father discovered a massive nest of wandering-spiders halfway down. A bite from one of those could kill a human. We managed to dodge them with the help of the repellent we had prepared.
Then came the undergrowth itself. As we touched down, I realized I’d almost forgotten how creepy it could be. Even though the sun shone overhead, with minimum cloud coverage, it was eerily dim on the ground. My breath quickened as I looked around, my eyes wide and searching for movement. We had brought knives and slingshots with us, in the event of an encounter with a predator, but I prayed it didn’t come to that.
My father took point, leading us along the path he and my uncle were so familiar with. They had made far more trips than me, Robert, or Jessie—or my aunt, for that matter—so we followed carefully behind them, watching our step.
Ten minutes in, a giant wasp buzzing around my head distracted me and I lost my balance. I slipped on a broad leaf and slid down a slope, my left leg ending up half submerged in a small, concealed stream. Robert, being closest to me, was immediately by my side, gripping me under the arms and hauling me out. I shuddered as I glanced back at the water, noticing the round, dark shapes that had risen to the surface.
“Piranhas,” I breathed.
“Good thing you have such awesome friends, then,” Robert replied as he steadied me on my feet.
“Thanks,” I muttered, smiling weakly as I waved off the concerned look from my father and indicated that we should all keep moving.
Forty-five minutes and several more incidents later—including a poison dart frog and a low, growling sound that Jessie could have sworn was a jaguar—we had reached a parting of trees, which gave way to a wide, churning river.
While this section of the journey would give us a brief respite from the critters lurking in the shadows, I couldn’t say I was exactly relieved, because the boat that waited on our side of the bank had seen better days. My father insisted it was safe, but I couldn’t help but have my doubts. The rapids were fierce, and although we were proficient swimmers, we wouldn’t stand a chance if the boat flipped over. Especially near the center, where the current was the most violent. Plus, I was pretty sure there were red-bellied piranhas in there—and probably electric eels as well.
The jungle really wasn’t designed for humans,I mused, as we piled onto the creaky vessel. But hey, we did our best.
My father, Uncle Vance, and Robert grabbed the three sets of oars, while Jessie, my aunt, and I sat at even distances between the men, focusing on balancing out the boat.
“Are we ready?” my father called from the front.
“Yes,” we chorused, and the men began rowing.
I looked nervously back at the riverbank as we surged away from it. The boat rocked, and I gripped the edges hard, my knuckles growing white as we floated toward the angry rapids.
“It’s been a year since you made this trip, hasn’t it?” my aunt remarked. She looked back over her shoulder to give me a warm smile.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yup.” That really was a long time, now that I thought about it. The last time I saw Zina, she had traveled to us.
She sighed. “Well, thank you for coming out with us, Tani. Zina will appreciate it so much.”
“Of course!” I said, managing a smile. “I want to see her just as much. I’ll come over again when the baby is born, though I hope we make another visit sooner.”
The shuddering of the boat cut my aunt’s reply short, and she turned her gaze ahead as we navigated a particularly harrowing patch of water.
“Nothing to worry about,” Uncle Vance called back. “We’ll be through this in no time.”
