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summers ago, Ronnie? Remember what those queers did to your—”
    â€œOkay,” Ronnie said. “Enough. Let him go.”
    I knew Ronnie could hurt me, but I also knew letting Jake go would get Seth hurt probably as bad or worse. I held on. Ronnie shook his head. “Your decision, Walter.”
    He tried to come around behind me. I turned Jake, always keeping him in front, a barrier between Ronnie and me. Seth stirred, getting up to his knees, coughing, maybe even spitting up blood.
    I couldn’t keep this dance up forever, but maybe I could last long enough for Seth to get away. “Get out of here,” I said.
    Seth made it to his feet but didn’t go anywhere. Stubborn fool.
    Ronnie lunged at me. I tried to move out of the way, but Jake wouldn’t move with me and I was stuck. He slid through my arms and to the ground. Ronnie spun me around and I lost my balance, falling back into Seth. Seth caught me and shoved me aside before going for Jake. I hit my head on the base of an oak tree and watched from the ground as Seth managed one good lick in on Jake—a wicked shot to his nose—before Ronnie grabbed hold of him and lifted him high into the air. At first, I thought he was going to take him to the creek, maybe toss him in, but no, he walked upstream a little to where the bank turned muddy and soft. Then I knew where he was heading. For as long as I could remember there was a certain area along the creek that was like quicksand. Hell, there wasn’t any
like
to it; it
was
quicksand. As a younger boy I’d thrown in rock after rock and watched, fascinated, as each disappeared from sight.
    Now I watched again as Ronnie slammed Seth into the soft sand. Just like all the rocks I’d thrown, Seth began to sink.
    By now, Jake was on his feet, wiping the blood from his nose. “Your ass is next,” he said to me, and walked over to the quicksand. Ronnie glanced at him because he wanted Jake to tell him what to do. Seth was sinking fast, and all his flailing didn’t seem to be helping much.
    Jake knelt and reached one hand back, motioning for Ronnie to hold on to him. Ronnie took his arm, and Jake leaned out over the quicksand. He shoved Seth’s chest hard, pushing him all the way under. Ronnie pulled Jake back and helped him regain his feet.
    I watched all this through blurred vision. I knew what I was seeing wasn’t right—that you couldn’t make somebody sink so easy, that quicksand didn’t work like that—but the knock on my head had been a doozy. I guess later, I chalked it up to that. Either way, at that moment, only one thing was clear:
    Seth was gone.
    Ronnie shifted, and I could tell he was nervous. He kept looking at Jake.
    Jake shook his head. “Not yet.”
    â€œJake,” I said. “He’s going to die.”
    â€œShut up, Walter. Shut up or you’ll be next.”
    â€œRonnie,” I tried. “Come on.” Ronnie turned and looked at me. He was torn between doing the right thing and his loyalty to Jake.
    The sand gurgled and Seth’s right arm flailed up, waving wildly. I tried to reach for it, but Jake held me back. It didn’t matter, though. The only hope I had of helping him would be if I were willing to fall in myself. Jake must have understood this because he let me go.
    I turned back to Ronnie. “If you don’t let him up now, he’s going to die,” I said. “You don’t want that. None of us do.”
    He just looked at me. Jesus Christ.
    â€œTake my hand,” I said. If I could get one of them to cooperate, I’d be able to lean over and grab Seth. Then together, we could pull him out.
    Jake shot Ronnie a look. Ronnie dropped his head.
    The sand gurgled again and his arm was gone. How long had he been down there? At least two minutes, probably more. How long could a person go without breathing?
    An idea hit me. It was my only chance.
    I picked up a rock. It was the