Ami announces. I can already tell I’ll never be able to enjoy my pool again, not after this. A crystalline waterfall about twenty feet high drops into a deep, still, turquoise stream. Orchids and heliconias hang over the water as if they’re drinking from it, heavy with pink and red and purple blooms. With a whoop, Eio climbs to the top of the waterfall and throws himself from it. The splash he makes drenches Ami and me. “He is so dumb,” says Ami. “Come on, Pia bird! It’s no fun swimming with Eio; he only tries to splash me.” She grabs my hand and leads me downstream, about fifty yards from the waterfall, where the water is shallow and wide, racing over a pebbly bed. The stream sparkles golden in the sunlight filtering through the trees. “This is our most secret place,” she whispers as she kneels on the bank. “What’s so secret about it?” I ask. “Look in the water.” I kneel beside her and lean over the stream, and I see it. It’s not sunlight turning the water gold.
