“Isla said you used to hike there with her. Isn’t it close to our cabin?”
He shot me a quick look before answering. “Yes. But that was when I only had one little girl to look after. There are lots of slippery rocks you could fall on. Both of you, that is.” He pointed his fork at me and then reached for the hot sauce.
“We’ll be good. And really careful. Won’t we?” She looked at me pleadingly.
“I don’t remember it being that dangerous,” I chimed in.
“You were littler then.”
“Oh, come on, Daddy. I want to see the falls too!” Marlow begged.
Moni reached across the table for the jar of blueberry preserves. “Take her. She’s only going to keep asking,” she said in Korean.
Dad sighed. “Fine.”
I looked over at Mom, who had been reading the newspaper. She said nothing and kept taking small, succinct bites of her bagel.
We trekked out a little after breakfast. Marlow didn’t complain once during the hike. We heard the falls before we saw them—a dull roar that increased in volume like a crowd growing more excited and noisy as they waited for the headliners to hit the stage.
Our spot was still there. A flat perch above the falls that gave you the sensation you were ready to dive down into the raging waters.
The falls were bigger than ever that summer. A heavy rainy season during late spring and early summer had created record levels of water. I had never seen it so full and boisterous, as if it were showing off for Marlow, the girl who so desperately wanted to see it.
She said nothing.
The waters raged, a thunderous boom. Yet she remained silent. A wordless observer with little expression on her face.
Dad studied her carefully and then clapped his hands lightly. “Okay. Should we unpack the lunch? Too early? How about some snacks?”
Marlow’s eyes shifted to him, as if to scoff at his casual and nearly comic transition, before turning back to stare down at Covet Falls.
“Isla, will you help me lay out the blanket, please?”
I threw the flannel blanket in the air, letting it float upward and then settle down.
“Did you put the drinks in your pack like I asked you to?”
“What? I thought you were getting those.”
“Please tell me this is one of your jokes,” he groaned.
“I’m not joking.”
“Isla. I know I reminded you. Twice.”
“Dad, I would remember something like that. You know me. What?”
He spun around. “Where’s Marlow?”
“What?” I asked again.
“Marlow. I don’t see her.”
She was gone.
“She can’t have gone far . . .”
Dad had not yet gone into panic mode, but I would witness it shortly. “Marlow? Marlow!”
We searched for her near the falls for the next hour. Dad finally decided it was best to go back to the cabin and call for help.
Mom ran out the front door. She must have been waiting for us.
“Seriously, Patrick! What the hell?”
“Did you see Marlow?” he demanded.
“What were you doing out there?”
“Stella. Listen to me, did you see Marlow come back here?”
She threw her arms up in the air. “Yes! Why do you think I’m so pissed? She came running across the lawn about twenty minutes ago.”
“Well, where is she?”
Mom pointed to the large shed that fronted the lakeside edge of the property. Its wood did not match that of our cabin. “Such an eyesore,” she had complained before, wanting to tear it down and rebuild it. But Dad said the size of it made it worth keeping. It was a place to put our kayaks, camping equipment, and anything else for storage.
We opened the shed door to find her crouched in the corner. Hair and clothes damp, she must have gotten in water somewhere at some point. Her knees were tucked into her body, a position similar to that when we first found her.