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studied the rockabove, on the left side, and spotted something I had missed before. A sturdy tree root hung over top of the cliff. If only I could reach it…
    I dug my fingers into any cleft or groove I could find and pulled with all my strength. My toes fumbled for footholds. My feet found a narrow ledge, solid enough to hold my weight. My fingers curled around an uneven chunk of rock. The root was just above my head. I reached for it.
    I felt the rough bark with my fingertips but couldn’t get my hand around it. Just a few more inches.
    By this time I was breathing heavily and was so hot I felt faint. Sweat poured down my forehead. I heard a groan from Amy. From the corner of my eye, I caught a movement. My heart stopped. Some small rocks bounced down the cliff and splashed into the river below.
    â€œHang on, Amy! I’m almost there!”
    My backpack was weighing me down. I had to get rid of it. If I slid it straight down the cliff face it should land on the rocks below and not fall into the water.
    I let it slip from my shoulders until I held it in my left hand. I lowered it as far as possible, against the cliff, down by my feet. Then I let go. It landed on the rocks with a thud.
    â€œJESSICA!” Amy screamed.
    â€œI’m all right,” I called. “It’s just my backpack.”
    Free of the backpack, I felt like I could do anything. I pushed up on tiptoes and stretched my legs, my arms and my fingers until I could wrap my hands around the tree root. It was a living root, strong and healthy. Pulling, grasping and climbing with my toes like a goat, I managed to get the top half of my body over the cliff edge. The rest was easy.
    â€œI’m up!” I yelled. “I’ll be there in a second.”
    The undergrowth at the top of the cliff was thick and scratchy. I held my hands in front of my face and pushed my way through, but by then I couldn’t tell where Amy was.
    â€œAmy?” I yelled.
    There was no answer.
    â€œAmy. Talk to me. Help me find you.”
    â€œI’m here.” Her frightened voice was right below my feet.
    Cautiously, clinging to a tree trunk for support, I peeked over the edge. And there was that pink scrunchy. What a beautiful sight.
    Pushing aside thick bushes, I lay down and threw one arm over the edge. If only I had thought to bring some rope. But it was too late for that. I reached for her wrist. Found it. Grabbed it. She clung on like a leech. But I couldn’t lift her.
    â€œAmy,” I tried to sound calm, shouting over the river noise. “You’ve got to help me here. Pull with your free hand and push with your toes. You’ve got to find that next foothold.”
    â€œI can’t!” she screamed.
    â€œAmy, screaming is a waste of energy. You can do it. You have to.”
    Her hand trembled in mine. I needed to get her moving
    â€œOkay, Amy. Take a deep breath. On three I start to pull.” I didn’t dare give her time to think. “One, two, three…”
    Flat on my stomach with my feet wrapped around bushes behind, I pulled with all my strength. She must have helped because soon I could reach her other wrist. I inched my way backward, pulling her with me.
    At last she was safe, lying on the trampled bushes, panting for air. She stared at me with frightened eyes.
    I sat up, shaking all over. Neither of us spoke.

chapter nine
    After a while Amy sat up too. Her eyes had a dazed look. Her face was white as milk and her bottom lip quivered. “You saved my life,” she whispered.
    â€œNo,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “You would have been all right.”
    She shook her head. “I was so scared.” She looked down at her trembling hands. “I guess my father was right.”
    â€œDon’t be dumb,” I said. “You got stuck in a bad spot; it could happen to anyone.”
    To change the subject I asked, “How about some food? I brought bagels and…”