“He was a remarkable person, wasn’t he?” I ask.
“The best. Such a visionary,” he says, running his hand up and down my spine in a way I can only describe as hypnotic. “I wish I had understood him better when he was here. I was just so … angry about so many things he was doing.”
“You had reason to be,” I say, reaching up and running my hand through his hair. “He left you holding the bag for a long time.”
“Permanently, as it turns out. But he had his own demons he was running from. He and I aren’t that different in that way.”
I lift myself onto my tippy toes and gently kiss his cheek. “You’re both good men. You’re the same in that way too.”
Ty stares down at me, lifting his hand to my chin. “Thank you, Gwen. There’s no one else I would want with me right now.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
He lowers his face to mine and I close my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me. But instead, I hear a throat clearing behind me. Thiago, the world’s biggest beaver dammer, has arrived.
32
A Leap of Faith
Ty
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Thiago says. And this time, he really does look sorry. Not angry or annoyed or impatient. “The others have completed the last challenge. Are you ready to leave?”
I nod, then look back at the waterfall one last time, knowing I’ll never be back here again. I take it all in: the smell of the air, the sounds of the birds and the rushing water, the warmth of Gwen’s small hand on my back.
“Follow me then,” Thiago tells us, turning and disappearing into the trees.
Gwen offers for me to go in first, but I shake my head, not wanting to have her go last in case an animal comes up behind us. We trek silently along through the thick brush until we reach a fast-flowing stream. Following it, we arrive at the top of a cliff where the stream seems to drop off into nowhere. Gwen peers over the ledge and I instinctively reach out and wrap my arm around her waist, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of her falling.
Thiago turns to us. “This is the leap of faith—a rite of passage for the Shipibo-Conibo people who lived here. You cannot see the bottom, but you must trust that when you jump, you make it.”
“Jump?” Gwen asks. “But, it’s just black down there. How do we know what we’re jumping into?”
“You don’t. That’s why it’s called a leap of faith,” Thiago answers. “It not only proves your trust in the others who have gone before you, it also proves your faith in yourself—to get through whatever challenges life brings you. Once you do this, you will know you have the courage to do what must be done.”
Gwen and I look at each other, then back over the edge. “Why would anyone do this?” she asks.
“My question is who the hell was the first one to jump?”
“Excellent point.” Looking at Thiago, she says. “So, the rest of the group did this already?”
“Yes.”
“And they survived?” I ask.
“Yes, of course. It’s totally safe,” he says, looking insulted.
“How about you go first?” I ask Thiago.
He shakes his head. “I have to be the last one. Just in case one of you hens out.”
“Hens out?” I ask.
“You know, like a chicken?” Gwen says.
“Chickens out,” Thiago says, snapping his fingers. “I always get those mixed up.”
“Don’t worry about it. Your English is a hell of a lot better than my Spanish will ever be,” I tell him. Glancing at Gwen, I say, “I don’t much care if people think I’m a hen. How about you?”