1 Chapter 1

It was the summer of 1990, post Fourth of July, not yet August, a day when a person thought it was the hottest day of the year, only to find out the days could and would get hotter. The woods around us were eerily quiet. Even the birds were mute, resting in the shade somewhere, or hiding from the commotion. My best buddy Dougie and I were at one of our favorite hangouts, where a deep, powerful stream cut through tall gray rocky cliffs on both sides. This day, the place was anything but fun, serene, or romantic, a stupid word Dougie had once come up with while the two of us played in the water at midnight.

There was a place one could dive into the water safely for swimming and wet summer fun. There was also a place where doing so, either accidentally or on purpose, would mean certain death. As Dougie and I watched this particular afternoon, first in disbelief, then in horror, a drug-crazed young father dragged his wife and toddler up that high. His demeanor, the cries and pleading from the wife, both told us things weren’t likely to end well.

“Let them go.” Not even sixteen at the time, I found the balls to plead with the man, once Dougie, and I had risked life and limb to get up there, too. “Hand my friend the little girl.”

Their names were familiar. Steven and Gloria Leary were only a few years older than Dougie and I. The pair had been high school sweethearts, their relationship tumultuous from the start, often because of the consumption of alcohol. Everyone in New Mill Town knew their situation. The cops had been to the Leary home several times in 1990 alone. My father was a cop.

“Your baby’s pretty scared.”

So was I, shaking like the leaves hanging over our heads, even without a cooling breeze to move them. Maybe they felt the tension in the air, too.

Little Leslie would have had just one birthday, so far, her second one a few weeks off. I knew her name as well. Her chubby face glimmered in dappled sunshine. It was so muggy that day, the situation so frightening, it was difficult to tell the sweat from the tears.

“Please…” I worked hard to keep my voice even. “You don’t want to hurt her.” I hoped I was succeeding. “Pass her to Dougie.”

Dougie’s eyes were as wide as they’d been the day he awoke beside the stream to discover a snake had crawled up the leg of his swim trunks while we’d napped. His mouth agape, his fingers curled into fists, he hadn’t said a word since we’d gotten to the summit. He hadn’t even touched his droopy hair, something he usually did every two seconds, to make sure his hi-top was still straight and flat. I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. Me, I couldn’t shut up.

“We all want her safe. I know we do.” My mouth was as dry as the parched grass in my parent’s front yard after no rain for three weeks. Still, I kept talking. “Do the right thing.”

It had taken another ten to fifteen minutes of one-way dialogue.

“Whatever is going on in your head, all this is only going to make it worse.”

No one breathed, from the moment Steven said, “Okay, take her,” to the moment Leslie was safe in Dougie’s still quaking arms. The exchange was that perilous on the slippery shale.

“Good.” I finally exhaled. “Now, let your wife come with us, too.” I reached out for Gloria. “What’s your name?”

I was careful not to mention my dad, for safety reasons, and pretended not to know who they were, just to keep them talking.

“You can tell me your name.” I made eye contact, only with her.

“Gloria.”

Steven let her answer. That was a good sign.

“And yours?”

“Steven,” he said quietly.

“Steven…We’re going to do Gloria next, okay, Steven? You’re going to gently let go of her and let me take her hand.” I reached out.

“No.”

“Your daughter needs her mother. Come on, Steven. Please, let her grab hold of me.” When I took a step, a rock beneath my bare foot gave way, crunching, slipping, pinging as it bounced over the cliff down into the water. “Shit.”

“Stay back!” Steven jerked away, which sent more dirt and gravel pouring over the edge. His shoe went, too, making a surprisingly sickening thud—not a splash, but a thud—a loud one at that, for such a small object. oldquo;Stay back!ardquo;

“Fuck.” I slowly raised both hands in the air. “Okay, okay, okay. I’m listening. No more sudden moves.” My voice trembled, just like the rest of me. “We do everything carefully, now, Steven. We don’t want that to happen again, right?”

“No.”

“You don’t want anyone to fall, right?” I asked.