Susie sat on the sled. We both knew we were eating the last of our gorp and beef jerky. We had two bottles of water left, some raisins, and two small tubes of peanut butter. That had to be breakfast the next day, our last meal on the ice. I didn’t say anything to Susie, but I was guessing we weren’t going to be having lunch in the U.S. of A. Susie: Next to Noah’s beans and bread, this is the best food I’ve eaten. Me: Hunger is the best sauce. Hobbes: Give me some. I dropped some bits of the gorp at my side so Susie wouldn’t see. Susie: How far do you think we are, Calvin? Will it take as long tomorrow as you thought? Maybe we’ll make brunch? How far? Me: Did you know that zebra mussels are killing this lake? Susie: That far? But you said we’d be there by lunchtime tomorrow. It’s going to be dark again soon, and I don’t see shore. Me: Zebra mussels eat all the microbes and make the water nice and clean and clear, but then all those microbes are what the fish eat. The zebra mussel is destroying the entire ecosystem of the lake.
