The Meadow 87 Bailey ascended the mountain and looked over trees fading into the curving horizon. The sun sank, turning the sky orange and pink, stunning both women. Two hours had passed. Jacob hadn’t checked in yet. Wondrous darkness fell. Stars emerged for a performance, gilding themselves with fire, lightning, ice, and the brilliant green of trees, at least to Amanda’s young eyes. She had never seen stars before. The floodlight at the front of the canoe revealed deep black water. The river flowed down the mountain as the canoe climbed it without fault. Amanda had fallen to silence. Fear, excitement, confusion, and discovery mixed in Bailey’s stomach. Amanda had sent message after message to Jacob and had heard nothing in return. “I don’t think we’ll be able to reach him until we go back down the mountain,” Bailey said, eyes on the stars. “Do you know what’s going on, Doctor?” Amanda said. She gripped the canoe tight enough to turn her knuckles white. “I think I might,” Bailey said. “But I don’t think anyone will ever figure out. If I’m right, we’ll find out at the top of the mountain. At the river’s headwaters.” “What will be there?” Bailey kept her eyes up. “Genesis.” The river originated from an immense lake at the top of the mountain, and when their canoe tipped up it, like mounting a waterfall, silence gripped them fast. No springs fed into the lake; their canoe slipped over the surface like a blade over dry skin. “I don’t understand,” Amanda said. “I thought rivers were fed by springs. Where is the water coming from? This lake can’t possibly provide all that water.” Bailey kept her eyes up. Amanda turned around and glanced at her. “Doctor?”
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