He lay there motionless for a good five minutes. Long enough to allow a fine dusting of snow to cover his back. “They’re not coming.” “What do you want to do?” I asked. “Call it a day? Go home for hot chocolate?” He twisted his neck to look back at me. “I don’t get you, man. You seem like you’re all about the hunt, and then when it comes to the finish, you get all . . . I don’t know. Detached. What’s the matter? I know you’re not afraid.” “The hard work’s done,” I said. “You guys don’t really need me for this part.” “And yet I notice you never turn down the opportunity to work downstream.” “I like the fresh air.” Murphy shuffled back and sat back down beside me, banging his gloved hands off his thighs to shake the powder off them. “Too fresh for me. Hot chocolate sounds pretty good, in fact. What the hell is up with the weather?” “This is normal,” I said. “It was warm yesterday.” “That was El Niño. Yesterday was the aberration, not today.
