Around us the children were chanting, “Papa Joe! Papa Joe! Papa Joe!” in an effort to get him to hurry up and join the party. I kept my eyes on the open French doors, wishing I knew Denise well enough to ask her about Joe. About the apparatus and whether Joe was going to be okay. Before I could muster up the words to broach the subject, Macon came running out of the doors and onto the porch. Joe walked behind him, slower, but he didn’t seem any worse for the wear. Joe rubbed his hands together and said, “All right, Miss Sam. What’s first?” I tingled with excitement. “How many of you know what a zip line is?” About a third of the hands went up. “Well, we have a zip line here. It’s fun. It’s daring. And I can’t help but wonder who will be the first to ride it!” The zip line ran along the length of the creek snaking through our property.
