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thinking about it makes me want to puke.”
    I expect Chris to laugh, but he only says, “Then you’ll have to take care of things up here while I climb down.”
    The next thing I know, we’re tying one end of the rope around the Billy loves Sara tree and the other around Chris, and he’s getting set to head down the cliff.
    He tugs on the rope to make sure it’s secure. Then he starts lowering himself over the edge, letting out the rope a little at a time.
    I watch from the safety of the tree until Chris’s head disappears.
    â€œOkay,” he calls up after a few seconds. “I’m on the ledge. Now I’m going to shinny out to the end of the tree. Can you keep an eye on it and tell me if it looks like it’s gonna break?”
    I take a step toward the edge of the cliff and then stop. I’m not even looking down yet, and already I feel dizzy. I swallow hard and reach back for the tree.
    â€œEric? You there, man?”
    I swallow again. “Yeah. I’m coming.”
    But my feet are frozen to the spot.
    Afraid of heights or not, I can’t leave Chris out there on that skimpy branch without even a lookout. I drop to the ground and crawl commando style to the edge of the cliff. My hands grip the sharp, rocky ledge while my runners wedge toeholds in the dirt. Only when I feel like my body is glued to the earth do I look over the edge.
    All I see is the water crashing over the rocks far below. The sound of it fills my ears, and my vision starts to swirl. I feel like I’m being dragged down a bathtub drain. I shut my eyes and wait for the spinning to stop.
    â€œYou okay?” Chris says. “You look awful white.”
    â€œI’m fine,” I lie. I block out the river and focus on Chris. “Have you tested your weight on the tree?”
    He moves his head. I think he’s nodding, but it’s hard to tell from this angle.
    â€œIt’s stronger than it looks,” he says. “I think it’s going to be fine, but yell if you see it start to move.”
    It’s my turn to nod. “Be careful,” I tell him.
    He doesn’t answer. He climbs onto the tree and starts shinnying up and out. I imagine I hear the trunk crack and see it break, dumping Chris into the river. I shake off the image and stare at the tree.
    I look at the rope, angling down over my shoulder from the tree behind me. It’s stretched as far as it can go. I steal a quick glance at Chris. He’s stretched too—flat along the length of the tree, his arm reaching toward the nest. His fingers claw at it, trying to pull it closer.
    I hold my breath and will the tree to be strong. The rope groans as Chris tries to shinny out a bit farther. I hear a scraping noise behind me, and suddenly the rope that was taut above me is right on top of me. It digs into my shoulder and pins me to the ground. The rope has slid down the trunk of the Billy loves Sara tree.
    Horrified, I look down. Chris is gone. My stomach leaps into my mouth, and the rocks and rushing river below become a blur. Oh, God. Don’t let this be happening.
    â€œChris!” I scream. “Chris! Where are you? Chris, answer me!” The rope is really cutting into me. I know it will jerk again if I wriggle out from under it, but if I stay where I am, it’s going to take my shoulder off. Besides, I need to find Chris. Using my free hand to push at it, I pull my body the other way and slide free. The rope thumps to the ground like a giant elastic being snapped. There is a roar of complaint below. I peer back over the cliff and holler again. “Chris!”
    Finally, I see him—his hands, actually—hanging onto the tree, but at least he hasn’t fallen into the river. Not yet.
    â€œChris!” I yell down to him. “Hang on. I’m going to get help.”
    The words are no sooner out of my mouth than I hear footsteps pounding the ground behind me. Then somebody is pulling me