The front of the canoe clunked from side to side as I strained every muscle to stay in the center of the river. Kaylee held onto the crossbars of her seat, looking back at me for some kind of answer.

“Don’t like this, Kevin.”

“Just hang on,” I said.

We passed the old landing site where the counselors held their secret parties. The current picked up energy. It felt like we’d been hooked by a giant trout fisherman and now he was reeling us in. I wasn’t sure how much farther town was, but my arms were starting to tire. A bend in the river rose up and hurled us into spray of trees hanging over the shore. Kaylee screamed. A branch had knocked her sideways, and I dropped the oar to catch her with both hands.

“Where’s dad?” Kaylee cried.

“We’re going to see him.”

She didn’t even respond after that, just cried in my arms, as I watched the river gulp down my oar.

“You have to get me the other oar, Kaylee.”

She shook her head, balling up with her face covered. I stepped over the center bench using a branch to support myself and keep the canoe from tipping. My fingertips barely reached the handle, and I flicked it towards me. The standing water beneath it helped push it into my free hand.

The river was daunting now, with its torrential black soup sliced by golden slivers of moonlight. The opposite shore appeared miles away, but I focused on it rather than the water and pulled the canoe into the center again.

“I’m scared,” Kaylee confessed.

“So am I.” I plunked down on the center bench and flicked the oar with determination. Right. Left. Hold. Left. Right. Later, my jaw would ache from clenching my teeth for so long, but it took that kind of focus to keep us in line. And I could see the faint lights of Scarlborough waving us into safe harbor.