I predicted. Maggie looked up at the dark sky. A layer of heavy gray clouds was hanging low overhead, and all around us was that still, expectant feeling just before a storm hit. We were paddling around on the lake, working on our newest strokes. Besides Maggie and me, Meredith Orr and Patty Nguyen were a couple of other canoeing regulars. And Boo had started coming to canoeing a lot with her friend Abby Harper. Michelle and Steve (the canoeing guide who went along on all the river trips) had said that if we passed the next two progressions, our little group would be able to go on the Monday river trip. “Hey, everyone! Bring the canoes in now!” Michelle called from the edge of the lake. The activity period was only halfway over, so she must have been concerned about the way the sky looked. Maggie and I paddled toward the shore. “I wonder . . .,” I started to say. “Wonder what?” Maggie asked, looking over her shoulder at me from the bow of the canoe. “I wonder if we’re about to get drenched,”
