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don't swim any faster?"
    "Not that I've noticed."
    "Do you ever feel an urge to dive in the ocean?"
    "What? Not really." She folded her arms. "My toes are tired of being on show."
    "Thank you," I said, and I meant it. I owed her for showing me this wonder, and I thanked whatever lines of consequence had supplied a friend with a webbed foot.
    "You're the weirdest person I've ever met, Percy junior." She laughed as she pulled on her sock, her eyes bright. "Weirdest to the utmost."

    ***

    Later that night I opened my field journal.
    I sketched the evolution of fins to feet and back again.
    Then wrote an article titled Codes of Violence: The Jock Tribe.
    When my hand cramped two and one-third hours later, I put down the pen. I went to bed and my thoughts turned to our greatest ancestor: Australopithecus afarensis Lucy . She was 3.2 million years old, the closest hominid to the missing link. Lucy and her relatives were likely the first to walk upright.
    I wondered if Lucy's toes had been like Elissa's.

 
     
     
     
     
    five
    CARNIVORE
     
    Like a gastronomical boomerang, my desire for a hamburger returned and shadowed me all Saturday morning. By early afternoon I found myself on Broadway, strolling past the restaurants and cafés, salivating. Most, except the Taj Mahal, were verboten to Mom.
    But she had gone to Wanuskewin for a nature walk and would be spending the night with friends in the traditional teepees that were part of the park (this accommodation was $79 per person, hallucinatory dreams not included). This meant I was free to indulge. She'd never once told me not to consume meat, but anytime I had she'd smelled it on me or heard the ghostly moo of the cow. Then she'd give me a look of absolute disappointment.
    But today I had to explore my inner carnivore. I slipped into the Broadway Café and ordered a triple burger with fries and gravy. It arrived steaming hot, on a platter-sized plate. I quickly devoured my meal.
    Then: tears. Almost. I blinked them back. This used to be my time with Dad. We'd sneak away from Mom and what he called the "infernal sprouts" and come here to gorge ourselves. He'd tell me about all the odd things he'd eaten while in the field (goats' eyeballs being his favorite). Then he'd slip me a stick of peppermint gum and say, "She'll never know." We'd slink back, keeping our distance from the matriarch.
    I had swallowed a five-pound weight. My digestive system, trained on sprouts and celery, was at a loss. The hamburger seemed to be gaining mass by the second. The best action: walk it off.
    I paid my bill, bought gum (peppermint) and proceeded toward the river, chewing. Soon I was strolling along the Meewasin Trail, staring across the river. This was a time to surrender the minutiae of my life and concentrate on the bigger picture. Where was evolution taking humanity?
    I pictured Elissa's foot. Then her ankle. Her midriff. I shook my head. This wasn't the direction I'd intended.
    I tried something different: the double helix. Encoded in our genes was almost every step of our evolution. Scientists had mapped the gene; now I had to find a way to follow that map to the beginning. Maybe there was information on the Internet that would help me.
    The hair on the back of my neck suddenly tingled. A keen anthropologist develops a sixth sense. I looked up. A familiar broad-shouldered male lumbered around a corner.
    I quickly inserted myself into nearby bushes, folded the greenery around me and crouched down. My heart thudded and a sheen of sweat coated my forehead. This attracted the attention of a fly, which tasted my perspiration with its feet. I tried not to think of the fly's previous explorations. A second fly descended. A third. I blinked, raised my eyebrows.
    I willed: stillness. In the jungle I would have to deal with hordes of insects. I, Percy Montmount, Jr., could persevere.
    Then: Thick trunklike legs became visible through the foliage. I looked up, moving only my eyeballs. Justin loomed.