"Does that feel all right?" she asked.

"It feels fine. Anyway, I don't hurt right now. I'm not an epileptic, and don't anyone call a helicopter."

"The pain comes and goes?" Jill asked.

Amy nodded.

"For how long?"

Amy shrugged.

Jill was trying to keep her face calm, but inside she was in ER mode. ER mode was where she went when Matthew broke his leg up at Alta and they looked at the X-ray and said, Actually, it's a lot worse than we thought, and see this little spot on the bone? Actually, it's a lot worse than we thought, and see this little spot on the bone? ER mode was when Sam spiked a fever and got a stiff neck and then went limp in her arms; when Mark had chest pains, and they hooked him up to machines and wires and a counselor came and asked if he had a living will. She had always thought that ER mode was a place she only went when it involved her immediate family, but now she realized that was wrong. ER mode was when Sam spiked a fever and got a stiff neck and then went limp in her arms; when Mark had chest pains, and they hooked him up to machines and wires and a counselor came and asked if he had a living will. She had always thought that ER mode was a place she only went when it involved her immediate family, but now she realized that was wrong.

She thought she could deal with telling JT what was going on, and she even thought she could deal with telling Amy. But she didn't think she had it in her to deal with telling Susan-in whom she had confided so much on this trip-that her seventeen-year-old virgin daughter was going into labor on the Colorado River, miles from the nearest emergency room.

42.

Day Eleven Below Lava Jill stood up in the hot sunshine. Her knees were stiff from crouching and her mouth was dry. She touched Peter on the shoulder and motioned for him to join her out of Amy's earshot.

She'd noticed over the course of the trip an unlikely alliance between these two. She recalled meeting Peter back in Flagstaff the night before they left-noticing how he had a kind of snotty att.i.tude toward everyone, especially Amy. Jill had left the meeting wondering how she was going to hold her patience for two weeks with this frat boy who was obviously more interested in getting laid than enjoying his time on the river-she could read the disappointment in his face when he looked around and saw the likes of Amy and Evelyn, Susan and Jill, little Lena and ancient Ruth.

So she wouldn't have guessed that he'd have chosen Amy to spend so much time with. She wouldn't have guessed he'd had it in him, to develop a friendship with a woman with whom the possibility of a s.e.xual relationship was not the first thing, quite frankly, that leapt to mind.

Now Peter stood with his eyes cast downward, head c.o.c.ked toward her, waiting.

"Has Amy told you anything?" she asked him.

"She's had these stomachaches," he said. "I guess I should have said something, but she didn't want me to."

Jill glanced around Peter's bulk to where Amy had rolled on her side again. And she wished suddenly that her wrist.w.a.tch wasn't buried at the bottom of her overnight bag. It would be helpful if she could time the contractions, and she would need a watch for that, because after ten days on the river, she didn't trust her sense of time in the least.

"It's not a stomachache," she told him.

"What is it?"

"She's in labor."

She waited, then, for it to sink in. And this frat boy, whom she expected would back away nervously, folded his arms across his chest and nodded gravely, as though he had expected nothing less bizarre.

She had to hand it to him.

"Are you sure?"

"I've gone through this twice. I'm sure."

"I knew it wasn't just a stomachache," he said. "But I didn't think it was labor. Did you tell JT yet?"

They both looked over to where JT was listening to Mitch.e.l.l, who was speaking and gesturing with agitation.

"No," said Jill. "But I will in just a minute. I thought maybe you could explain to Amy what's going on."

"She doesn't know?" know?"

"If she knew, she wouldn't be so terrified," said Jill. Then she reconsidered. "Fine, she'd be terrified, but she wouldn't-She's clueless, Peter. Trust me. She has no idea."

Peter looked dumbfounded. "How can this happen? Don't girls miss their periods? Don't they notice they're getting kind of big?"

"It's definitely bizarre, but it happens," said Jill. "When a girl's seventeen, she might not be keeping track of her cycle. And when you're as big as Amy, well, sometimes you just don't notice things. There was a girl in my high school twenty years ago. She was like Amy-really, really big. And she didn't know. Honest to G.o.d she didn't know. And then one day she went to the bathroom in between math and science and-"

"Okay," said Peter. "I get it."

"So it can happen," Jill finished.

"How close is she? To, you know, actually having the baby?"

"I don't know," said Jill. "I don't think she's that close, but she might be. I don't know."

"So what do we do now?"

"JT's going to have to radio for help. Because we have to get her to a hospital. And in the meantime, we're going to keep her very very still and try and slow down the contractions. But I want you to tell her what's going on. She likes you."

Peter scratched the back of his neck. "Of all the gin joints in all the world," he murmured. "Fine. I'll tell her."

"Just think of how it's going to be for Susan," said Jill, by way of consolation.

Peter went back to where Amy lay propped up on her elbows again. Her legs were extended out in front of her, dimpled and thick, and he tried to look at her like nothing was different but found it impossible. He wished he had said something directly to JT about her stomachaches, but he also realized there was no good to come of him scolding himself, so whenever that thought came into his mind, he pinched a little fold of skin on the back of his hand. Hard. It was a trick he'd learned from his shrink when he was trying to get over Miss Ohio. The shrink told him to pinch himself whenever he thought of her, and it would decondition him.

"The whale surfaces," Amy said, feigning drama as she tried to sit up.

"How do you feel?"

"c.r.a.ppy."

Peter looked upriver to Lava Falls. It seemed small and far away and unimportant. This was going to be hard, and he could think of no better way than to just say it.

"Jill thinks you're having a baby," he said.

Amy looked off, like she was remembering something that amused her.

"I'm sorry," she finally said-and her voice was cheery-"but I thought you said that Jill thinks I'm, like, having a baby. What did you really say?"

"That's what I really said." He waited. "Are you?"

"Uh, no?" no?"

"She thinks you're in labor," Peter went on.

"How could I be in labor if I'm not pregnant?"

"Are you not pregnant?"

"No," said Amy. "Yes. I'm not pregnant. Look at me. Do I look pregnant? Oh G.o.d. Don't answer that. Of course I look pregnant. I always look pregnant. Well, I'm not preg pregnant," she said, emphasizing the first syllable, as though it would sink both the word, and its truth, into the river.

Peter wished Jill hadn't chosen him to be the messenger. This should be JT's job. JT was their leader, and he had all the authority. By this point in the trip, JT could tell them all to go run Lava on boogie boards, and they'd have done it, they trusted him that much.

He looked over at the boats, where Jill was talking to the guides. Jill had one hand on her hip and with the other she was shading her eyes as she talked to JT. JT glanced over at Amy, and Peter felt like he wanted to pull a curtain around her. She deserved privacy, in this land of giant openness. He moved to block their view.

"I guess it's because you get these stomach pains, and they come and go," he said. "She said she felt your stomach. She said it felt like her stomach when she was having Sam and Matthew. She's had two kids," he added, as though this were determinative.

But Amy had gone off into her other world now-or rather, Peter reminded himself, she was having another contraction.

"I think you're having another contraction," he told Amy.

Amy groaned.

Peter had seen women in labor only in the movies and on sitcoms. "Breathe?" he suggested.

But Amy held her breath. Not knowing what else to do, Peter held her hand, and she squeezed so hard he thought she might break his fingers. He prepared himself for this contraction to convince her that she was indeed in labor, but when it was over, she sat up and spat into the sand. She jerked herself forward with her arms, trying to stand up. But she couldn't.

"This is all just bulls.h.i.t," she said. "I'm sorry I ever told you anything."

"It was Jill who figured it out," said Peter. "It wasn't me."

"Go get me some Tums," she grumped.

Peter wiggled his finger in his ear. Part of him wondered why he was putting up with this. What tie did he really have to this fat girl? He could go over and horse around with Abo and Dixie, and let Susan (who was the girls mother, after all) take care of whatever was going on. And maybe Jill was wrong. Who gave her the final say?

But another part of him recognized himself as the same person who went over to his mother's every Sat.u.r.day and watered her peonies, who cleaned out the Weber grill and threw away the vegetables that were rotting in the back of the refrigerator, who picked up his mothers medicine at the pharmacy and made sure she had enough refills authorized for the coming month. That was the kind of person he was. He might complain about it, but he did it, because it was the right thing to do.

Had Miss Ohio not appreciated that?

"Be nice to me," he told Amy.

Amy glared at him. He glared right back. Out on the river, a train of yellow rafts floated by, with everyone waving and shouting, and why shouldn't they be? They had just run Lava without someone in their group going into labor.

Twenty feet away, Jill was still talking to JT. Peter doubted that JT would be as incredulous as Amy, but still, this couldn't have been one of the things he routinely dealt with on his river trips.

"All I want are a couple of Tums," said Amy. "Is that too much to ask for?"

"You know what? It is," he told her. "It is too much to ask for. All I I want is for you to admit that you're pregnant, you're in labor, you're going to have a baby, and this is going to be a very big deal for the rest of us, because we're down on the river, and there isn't a hospital for miles around. And so a lot of people's plans are going to be altered for you. Which I'm not complaining about, but you should give up on this Tums thing and help people help you. Because as I understand it from Jill, the last thing we want is for this baby to actually be born down here. I don't know what can go wrong, and I don't want to know. But I imagine it can be pretty bad. So quit asking for Tums." want is for you to admit that you're pregnant, you're in labor, you're going to have a baby, and this is going to be a very big deal for the rest of us, because we're down on the river, and there isn't a hospital for miles around. And so a lot of people's plans are going to be altered for you. Which I'm not complaining about, but you should give up on this Tums thing and help people help you. Because as I understand it from Jill, the last thing we want is for this baby to actually be born down here. I don't know what can go wrong, and I don't want to know. But I imagine it can be pretty bad. So quit asking for Tums."

Amy didn't reply. She looked over to where JT and Jill were talking to Susan now.

"Is Jill over there telling my mother I'm pregnant?"

"She is," said Peter, and indeed, right at that moment, Jill put her arm around Susan's shoulder as all three of them looked over at Peter and Amy. Peter tried to imagine what this must be like for Amy. He tried very hard but couldn't come up with anything that would be quite so humiliating. And his heart went out to this girl whose s.e.xual history was about to become the topic of conversation among a group of people who, until eleven days ago, had absolutely no connection with her. Lena the kindergarten teacher, wondering if it had been a serious, meaningful relationship; Evelyn the biologist, wondering how it could have possibly escaped a girl's radar for six, seven, eight months; Mitch.e.l.l, thinking this would make his book that much more interesting; and Mark, wanting to know how old the father was and whether statutory rape laws would apply.

And all of them who, against every last shred of conscience, would at some point in the next twenty-four hours find themselves shamefully yet inescapably challenged by the notion that somebody like Amy might have had a serious boyfriend.

Amy reached for her T-shirt, which was lying nearby on the sand, and laid it over her stomach. "Don't let my mother come over here."

But Susan, Jill, and JT were already walking in their direction. JT was carrying a beach umbrella over his shoulder, and when he reached Amy, he opened it to reveal dazzling panels of turquoise, pink, and purple. He twisted its post into the sand to shield Amy from the hot midday sun, and there in this small circle of shade, with her mother and three strangers looking on, and another ten wondering what the problem was, Amy covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

43.

Day Eleven Below Lava Once JT was able to grasp the full implications of the situation, he was able to act with astonishing speed. He told Abo to radio for a medevac. He told Dixie and Evelyn to string up a tarp for shade, for they would need more than a tiny beach umbrella. He told Mitch.e.l.l to pump water and Mark to get out a kitchen table and set up the stove and start boiling whatever water they already had in the jugs. He told Sam and Matthew to go tell everyone pulling onto sh.o.r.e that they had a serious medical emergency and see if anyone was a doctor. He told Lena where the lunch materials were kept, in which cooler, in which boat, and asked that she set up the lunch buffet. He told Mitch.e.l.l to put away his camera, please. And he told Ruth and Lloyd to find themselves a place in the little patch of shade by the tamarisk bushes, because it was going to be a long afternoon.

Lloyd recapped his water bottle and wiped his grizzled chin. "I'm a doctor," he said. "What's the problem?"

"Lloyd, come and sit," Ruth urged, taking his arm. But Lloyd brushed his wife's hand away. He planted himself before JT. His tattered beige shirt was half tucked in and the shirttails sagged loosely around his hips. His beard was patchy and his eyes, when he removed his sungla.s.ses to look directly at JT, were rheumy and yellow.

"If I can be of some a.s.sistance," he said.

And JT, who was willing to grasp at any straw that appeared before him, told Lloyd about Amy's situation.

Lloyd nodded. "Well," he said carefully, "it's not my area of specialty, but I might be able to be of some use."

"Come with me, then," said JT.

"I seem to remember a few things from my medical school days," Lloyd said, trudging along beside JT. "That and being on the reservation. Do you know how many weeks along she is?"

"I don't think anyone knows."

"Even her husband?"

It occurred to JT that this might not be a good idea, getting Lloyd involved. On the other hand, what harm could he do? Even a confused mind could offer comfort, at the very least.

"There is no husband," he told Lloyd.

Lloyd nodded somberly, one doctor in on confidential information with another. "I trust this is her first child," he said. "But babies can come quickly, even in a young primigravada. You never know. Ruth, for instance, delivered our first child in five hours."

JT wasn't happy to hear that. He also couldn't help but think back to twenty-five years ago, to Mac's labor with Colin at the hospital in Flagstaff and how they went for thirty-six hours before the doctors finally agreed it was time for a C-section. The memory of that C-section right now sent an electric zing up the backs of his legs. Mac had lost a lot of blood, her life was at risk, and they were both terrified. But all the doctor had to do was order up a few pints of blood, and they appeared like magic; the IV was already in place and within minutes the color returned to Mac's face-all this while his newborn son was off being weighed and washed and swaddled in a soft, hospital-issue blanket. JT remembered how he had almost wanted to kiss the floor of the delivery room: for things could have turned on a dime, and yet in the end he had a happy wife and a fat squalling baby boy to take home.

And he looked at his surroundings here-the beach littered with all their equipment, the coffee-colored river, the band of cliffs, a hot white sun overhead-and wondered just what they were going to do if Amy's baby decided it was going to go ahead and rush itself out into the world before a helicopter could get here.

"Has her water broken?" Lloyd asked.