The Meadow 83 “Jacob, come in. Come in, Jacob. Ugh.” Amanda put her radio away. “Probably having the time of his life. It’s been more than three hours.” “I’m sure he’ll notice eventually,” Bailey said. “He’s excitable, but responsible. Once we-” A thunderclap deafened them. Light burned into their eyes and through their skulls. A shockwave struck them and the canoe bucked. They threw themselves down into the canoe, but the next moment sound and light returned to normalcy. The canoe continued its northward course unperturbed. Black sparks dug tunnels through their vision. For a split-second, before it had grown too bright, the sudden light had captured their surroundings like a camera--land on fire, trees bending under world-ending weight, and the river frothing, jumping, torn to shreds. They huddled together for a few quiet seconds until Bailey lifted her head. “Amanda. Look. Trees.” All kinds flanked the river--both sides. Green and dark brown. Yellow, unhindered sunlight pounded gleaming leaves instead of struggling through dust clouds. The river had turned blue, as had the sky. Amanda shielded her eyes from the sun. “What happened? Where did they come from? What was that flash? The sky...It’s blue! The dust is gone!” Her eyes found the trees. “They can’t...they can’t be real. There’s no way this many living trees and an untapped river are out here in the middle of nowhere and nobody knows about them,” she said. “Can we stop?” “I want to,” Bailey said. “But we should...a weeping willow.” The tree trailed long, emerald vines into shimmering sapphire water. Limbs sank under their own full, lush weight. “My grandfather told me about them,” Bailey said. Tears clogged her voice. “I don’t believe it.” “It’s beautiful,” Amanda said, mouth hanging open. “We have to stop. We have to get proof. This is going to...it’s going to...it’s
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