Don leaned forward. "It's not a cyst, Amy," he said. "You're one hundred and ten percent pregnant. And you're about to have the baby."

"No," said Amy. "No, I am not!"

Her mother's face appeared. "Yes, you are, honey," she said. "We're going to walk you through it."

"No," said Amy, feeling the panic rise up. "You guys don't understand! I'm not pregnant!" She refused to give in on this. It simply couldn't be. She was not going to try to remember anything-not when or who or where. And she wasn't going to give in to the humiliation that would come if she had to admit something like this. Because for a girl to go nine months without knowing she was pregnant seemed like the ultimate in cluelessness. And she was a smart girl. She'd scored 2400 on her SATs. She was going to be applying to good colleges this fall. She was going to be that skinny college girl, biking across campus to meet her boyfriend.

"Amy, listen," and now Don's face appeared in her circle of vision, and he looked directly into her eyes. "You are are going to have a baby. Soon. It's already on its way. There's no other way out. It's like going down a rapid. Once you're in the tongue, you're committed." going to have a baby. Soon. It's already on its way. There's no other way out. It's like going down a rapid. Once you're in the tongue, you're committed."

Amy shook her head.

"You can do it," said Don, "because you have to do it. Try and rest because there will be another contraction coming."

"No," Amy sobbed.

"Don't cry!" Don said sharply. "You can't cry right now. When we get this baby out you can cry all you want, but right now, you can't cry."

Her mother squeezed her hand. "He's right. Save your strength. This is the worst part. Make it through this, and you can make it through anything."

"How do you know?" Amy snapped.

Her mother laid a freshly dampened bandanna across Amy's forehead. "Because I've been there. Once you get to ten centimeters, then you can start to push, and it'll hurt too but not like this. This part is h.e.l.l. The contractions are long and intense and come one right after another."

Indeed, another one was starting-the tightening, the choking sensation, the deep imploding pain. She felt like she was being disemboweled. She tried to hold back a sob, but she was too afraid-afraid of the pain right now and also afraid of all the pain to follow. Don was right: there was no way out of this. Everywhere she looked, there was pain.

Voices shouted but they were in the next world over. "I can't do this!" she screamed.

"Yes, you can," said her mother. "Breathe!"

"I can't!"

"Amy," and she felt her mother's hands upon her face, turning her so that she was looking into her eyes. Her mother held up her index finger, right in front of Amy's mouth. "Amy. Look at my finger. See my finger? I want you to pretend it's a candle. Now blow it out!"

Amy wrenched her head away, but her mother turned it back and continued to hold up her finger.

"Blow," her mother commanded.

Amy pursed her lips and managed a little puff.

"That's right! Blow! Blow the candle out, honey! Deep breath in! Now little blows! That's great, honey. You're doing great!"

Amy squeezed her mother's finger and tried to blow. The pain was both within and without, evil, twisting and stretching, and there was no letting up, no lessening of the force.

"Blow," her mother said, and Amy was so angry at the pain that she grabbed her mother's finger and bit down hard.

Afterward her mother sat back and wrung her hand.

"I'm sorry," Amy said. "Did I break the skin?"

Her mother held up her finger. There was no blood, just a row of pink molar tracks. "Next time maybe just blow?"

"Next time she gets a stick," said Peter.

Amy didn't laugh. "More ice."

Susan stood up. "I'll be right back. Before the next one."

Amy didn't want to be reminded of the next one. She closed her eyes and tried to go limp. The strangest images came to her from far away: her chemistry teacher's voice as he handed out their final, the smell of rain on hot pavement. The lack of pain right now was cool and sweet. She had already lost all sense of time, but now she felt herself floating as well, and she heard a humming sound. Then she felt something touch her lips, and she opened her eyes and saw that Peter was holding a cup for her. His beard was bristly, and his hair rose in sweaty spikes from his forehead. Everyone else was gone.

Amy tried to take a sip, but it made her nauseous, and she belched loudly.

"It's so bad," she told him. "Its unbelievably bad."

"You can do it."

"How?"

"You will," he said. "You just will."

Amy had heard those words many times, but hearing them from Peter was different. For the first time, she believed them.

Although if anyone-Peter included-asked who the father was, she would get up and walk straight into the river and never return. She would. She really would.

"The camera!" she said, suddenly remembering. "I lost it! All those pictures!"

"f.u.c.k 'em."

This made sense. "Did you see what I did to my mother's finger?"

"h.e.l.l yeah. Stay away from me."

Amy closed her eyes. Peter held her hand, and as she began to pant (and no, she wasn't getting good at it, there was just no other way to breathe), she sensed other people gathering around her.

But something different was happening now. Instead of feeling like she was being torn apart inside, she felt like she had to go to the bathroom. The pain was back just as strong as before, but now she needed to get to a toilet. This was terrible. The timing was awful. What were they going to do if she made a big mess on the sand? JT had made them be so careful the whole time, to protect the river ecology. And now she was going to pollute the whole beach.

But it was already coming, and there was nothing she could do but bear down and grunt like a beast and push.

46.

Day Eleven Below Lava JT could feel it before he actually heard it, the thrumming in his chest that always put his nerves on edge when he was on the river. Automatically he looked up into the sky. Abo looked up too. could feel it before he actually heard it, the thrumming in his chest that always put his nerves on edge when he was on the river. Automatically he looked up into the sky. Abo looked up too.

"Right on schedule, Boss," he said, just before the sound of gunfire ripped through the canyon. Everyone on the beach craned their necks and shaded their eyes. In the next second, the helicopter materialized, a sparkling bubble sashaying up the river corridor.

"Get back!" JT shouted, waving his arms. "Over there, by the bushes! Sam! Matthew! Get out of the water!"

He and Abo ran out and rolled up the orange panels they'd laid out earlier to mark their location for Search and Rescue. The helicopter hovered, then lowered itself onto the beach, spraying sand and rippling the smooth waters of the sh.o.r.eline eddy. The pilot cut the motor, and a man and a woman hopped down out of the c.o.c.kpit and ran, crouching, over to where JT and Abo awaited them.

"Is there a baby yet?" the man shouted.

"No!"

They hurried toward the tented area. "I'm Andy," the man said. "This is Barb. What's going on?"

"Seventeen-year-old girl," JT told them. "Swam Lava and went into labor."

"When did she start?"

"Three hours ago. But she's already pushing. Listen, I don't want that baby getting born down here," JT said. "Just so we're clear on that."

Before Andy could answer, Amy let forth another scream, and JT had to summon every bit of emotional strength not to cover his ears like a child. He had a strong stomach, and even in emergencies he could usually remain calm, but Amy's scream released a sickening flush of adrenaline.

Because of this, he stayed outside the tented area while Andy and Barb ducked inside. He crossed his arms and shoved his hands into his armpits and wondered what to do. Abo and Dixie were back at the helicopter, talking to the pilot. They didn't need him in the tent, and they didn't need him at the helicopter. JT felt like an extraneous uncle, so he was caught off guard when Jill stepped out from underneath the shade of the tent.

"Please tell me they're going to be able to get her out of here before she delivers that baby," he said.

"I wish," said Jill.

"The Flagstaff ER's less than an hour away," he said. "That's not very far."

"A lot can happen in an hour."

"Don't say that."

"You're the Trip Leader," she reminded him. "You have to be prepared."

She was right, of course; he was captain of this voyage. But never had he felt like such a pa.s.senger on someone else's boat.

Jill seemed to sense this, because she took his arm and led him away from the tent, toward the water's edge. JT stood where the sand was soft and wet and let his feet sink down into the cold. He wanted to wade in and dunk himself until the water filled his ears and made his head ache, just to drown out the bad thoughts.

"I don't mean this in a disrespectful way, JT," she began, "but I don't think you have any clue what it's like for Amy right now. And it's kind of been a while for me, Sam being twelve and all, but when I was pushing my babies out, if you had told me you were going to load me into a helicopter, I'd have put a gun to your head."

"But it's up to the paramedics, isn't it?"

"In theory," said Jill. "But if I have any vote in the matter, you know where I stand."

The back of his throat felt bitter and dry, and JT found he could not look at Jill any longer. Here was a woman who, twelve days ago, had been but a name on a list, a thirty-eight-year-old mother from Salt Lake City with no allergies and the stated goal of making her boys forget about basketball camp for a few days. Yet now, here, below Lava, on her first trip, she seemed endowed with Solomonic wisdom. And what did that say about him? What had he learned, on 125 trips? How to run Crystal? Anyone with any sense could do it. How to feed large crowds in the wilderness? Read a book. Why, Jill could have done all that, and more-she could have delivered this baby herself if the paramedics hadn't come.

What he'd learned, on all his trips, was how to be alone. And right now, he wasn't even very good at that.

"Are you drinking enough water?" Jill asked. "Because you don't look so great."

JT repositioned his visor.

"Do you always smile when you're flipping out?"

JT put his hands on his hips. How was it she knew him so well? She held his gaze until he himself broke it and looked out across the river. He felt on the verge of tears, and he wasn't a man to cry. He picked up a rock and threw it in the river and watched the current swallow the rings.

"I've spent half my life on this river," he said. "I've seen heart attacks. I've seen appendicitis. I've seen rattlesnake bites and broken legs with the bone sticking out, and I've even had one guy pull a knife on me. But I've never had anyone go into labor."

"Well, I don't mean to scare you. This baby seems to have a mind of its own, but everything will turn out fine."

"Or not."

"If you're going to be thinking like that, then you should go for a walk."

"I'm not going anywhere," said JT.

"Then calm down," said Jill. "Have a beer if you need it. But shame on you for saying that. We've got a doctor and two paramedics with Amy. Things may go a little faster than we'd hoped, but they won't go wrong. And you can't keep thinking like they will. Because you know what happens if you do?"

"What?"

"When you lose your confidence, you lose everything. You said it yourself."

"I said that?"

"Several times."

JT knew he'd said it, but it sounded far more convincing coming from someone else. Half in jest, he asked if she wanted a job. "Pay kinda sucks," he admitted.

"You guys are such bulls.h.i.t artists."

"I'm not kidding. I can teach you everything," said JT.

"You already have," said Jill.

And this embarra.s.sed them both, so they turned their attention to Sam, who was arguing with Abo.

"No, you cannot take one of the boats," they heard Abo say. "Go play with the dog."

"But that's the thing," Sam said.

Of course, one look at Amy and the paramedics knew they weren't going anywhere. Not until after the baby was born, anyway. They weren't going to move her out of the tent, they weren't going to load her onto a stretcher, they weren't going to risk being in the air when this baby decided to make its entry into the world.

While Barb looped oxygen tubing around Amy's ears, Andy radioed the hospital in Flagstaff. Then he inserted an IV into the back of Amy's hand. Peter, who had not left Amy's side since she started pushing, sat and held her other hand as she gasped for air between pushes. He didn't know what to say to her to make her feel better. The whole thing looked like torture to him, and he was trying his best not to imagine what was going to have to happen to her body for this baby to get from Point A to Point B.

Meanwhile, the paramedics had opened up their bags and removed an entire closet of medical supplies-pads and kits and masks and more plastic bags of clear fluids than Peter wanted to imagine the need for. Susan, who was cradling Amy's head, asked Don if, now that they had the IV in place, they could give Amy something for the pain.

"Actually, I'm going to defer to the paramedics on that," said Don.

"But you're the doctor," said Susan.

Don allowed a hint of a smile. "I'm going to guess these guys have more experience delivering babies than I do. In fact, I'm going to move aside," he told them, "and let you two take over. Just let me know how I can help."