Read When Crickets Cry for Free Online Page A

sleep-which took about thirty seconds.

     

Chapters
    cracked the boathouse door at 5:00 a.m. and smelled Noxzema. Charlie didn't like a sore butt, so he rubbed Noxzema on the chamois of his shorts before we got into the boat. It was dark, but I could see his stumpy form sprawled across the boathouse floor, stretching. I could also see the wet footprints shining through the dark, showing me where he'd climbed out of the water and into the boathouse. He had been doing Pilates for years and could pretty well hook his heel behind his head when he wanted. Most limber human being I'd ever met. Also one of the strongest.
    Next to him sat Georgia, his yellow Lab. He never went anywhere without her. Her tail flapped the wooden floor and let me know she was happy to see me.
    The wood floor creaked below me, telling Charlie of my arrival, but I imagine he'd heard me coming before I cracked the door. The edge of the lake lapped the rock bulkhead below and sounded off the hollow chamber of wood three feet above it. I turned on a fluorescent light above one of my workbenches, and Charlie smiled but didn't say a word.
    On one side sat the two-man scull. I tapped it, and Charlie nodded. It weighed only about eighty pounds, but at over twenty-five feet long, it took two of us to get it into the water. Charlie grabbed the bow and I the stern. He backed down the ramp and slid his end into the glassy, still water.

    I pulled the boat alongside the dock and patted Charlie on the shoulder.
    He said, "'Morning to you too."
    He grabbed the ladder, found the boat with his toe, and climbed down, strapping his feet into the bindings in front of him. I grabbed the oars and slipped carefully into the seat up front. I strapped on my "spare" heart-rate monitor while Charlie tapped his fingers on the oars-Morse code for I'm ready to go nozu! We pushed off, dipped the oars in, feathered as the water droplets from the blades painted the lake in half circles, and pulled out of the small finger that accented the northern tip of Lake Burton.
    The silence hung warm around us. Charlie whispered over his shoulder, accompanied by a half smirk, "You had a long day yesterday."
    "Uh-huh." Another dip, another pull, another feather.
    The muscles in Charlie's back rippled down from his neck, around his shoulders, and into his ribs in a concert of taut human tissue.
    "What'd you wear?" he said, now with full smirk.
    "Same thing," I said.
    Charlie shook his head and said nothing more as we folded and unfolded into a rhythmic pulse.
    Tip to tip from Jones Bridge to Burton Dam is nine miles. Most mornings we do all of it. Down and back. Charlie and I are a pretty good match. I'm taller and leaner, he's thicker and stouter, but I'd never cross him in a dark alley. Whereas my V02 max is greater-meaning I have a larger heart and lung capacity and can consume more oxygen over a longer period of time-Charlie's got another gear in his body that's not subject to the laws of physics or anatomy, the kind that's buried deep down and allows ordinary people to do extraordinary things. Like win a state wrestling championship by pinning the number-one-ranked wrestler in the country-twice.
    It was a double-elimination tournament, and since his oppo nent had never lost in high school matches, Charlie had to wrestle him twice. The first time he pinned him in the second period, and in the second match he tied the guy in a knot like a pretzel and pinned him in the first minute. What made it even more impressive was that while his opponent was a senior, Charlie was a sophomore. Starting with that one, Charlie won three state championships and never lost another match in high school.

    With the current of the Tallulah pushing us along, Charlie sank his oars in, pulled hard, and shot us southward. The jolt told me he was feeling pretty good and that today would hurt. And if it hurt this much with the river, it would hurt that much more coming back against it.
    Canoeing or sculling the river can