—Haitian Proverb After another restless night, Mandy sat at her kitchen table sipping a cup of strong coffee. She hoped it would kick her fuzzy brain into gear, though she didn’t have to go into work. Monday was one of her days off, since few boaters traveled down the river the first day of the work week. While flipping the pages of The Mountain Mail, Salida’s local newspaper, she remembered yesterday afternoon and smiled. Wonder of wonders, near the end of the day, she and Steve had found her PFD neatly stashed behind the gray rock at the Stone Bridge takeout, just as she had requested. That day, the man with the inner tube had been lucky. Unlike Tom King. She flipped another page and put the coffee cup down hard. Tom King’s photo appeared in the obituaries section. His memorial service was planned for ten o’clock that morning. She checked the clock on her kitchen stove. Eight thirty.
