“It was nice of you to agree about the Game Boy, Morgan. How far did you get on the new game?”
“Man, I totally conquered it, but it’s a game for eight-year-olds or computer cretins. I’m just using it as a crutch until I can get my hands on a real computer.”
“There’s some good stuff on Game Boy,” Jack answered lamely, embarrassed that Morgan thought his games were childish.
“If you think that stuff is good, it’s only because you don’t know any better. Haven’t you ever been on the Internet?”
“Sure. For school reports and stuff. I e-mailed a guy in Spain and a girl in Ireland for a class project.”
“That means you, my man, need to see what a real game is all about.” As Jack hurriedly pulled on his clothes Morgan kept talking, never pausing, as if he’d been charged with a new mission. “You get me your mother’s laptop, and I’ll show you graphics that’ll blow your mind! There’s a universe you’ve never experienced, an Internet cosmos where there are no rules, no boundaries. It’s time you got out of your computer kindergarten and joined the cyberworld!”
“But, there’s a lot of bad stuff on the Net. I don’t want my mom’s laptop to catch a virus or something.”
Morgan quickly pushed his hair back off his face and trained his eyes on Jack. “Every year, people fall over the edge of the Grand Canyon. They die. You wouldn’t want to miss seeing the scenery outside because there’s an infinitesimal chance you could fall over the edge, right? It’s the same with the Web—you factor in risk and go on.” Sitting on the end of the bed, elbows drilling his knees, he said, “How would you like to see graphics so real they singe your hair, chat with your favorite rock star, or burn a disk of the hottest music for free?”
“Cool,” Jack breathed.
“It’s beyond cool. But you’ve got to grow up, my man. You go do the nature thing, and after you come back, I’ll lead you into my world.”
Jack could feel the roughness of the carpet beneath his feet as he pulled on his socks. “What do you mean? Aren’t you coming?”
“I changed my mind. I never go anywhere I don’t want to.”
Morgan was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Behold the master!” Morgan said, dropping back onto his bed.
Steven called in, “You guys ready?”
As if by magic, Morgan’s expression dissolved into one of distress as he lay back, his head drooping to one side. In a weak voice, he said, “Mr. Landon, can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” Steven hurried inside, concern creasing his face. “Are you OK?”
“I feel like I’m going to puke. I think it’s all the travel, not to mention the emotion, you know? I’m wiped. I need to stay here until my stomach calms down.” A beat later, Morgan begged, “Please?”
Steven hesitated, glancing into his own room, then back to Morgan.
“Sure. Go ahead and rest. We’ll be back in about an hour.”
When the door closed, Morgan punched his fist triumphantly. “I rule!” he said.
All Jack could do was agree.
CHAPTER THREE
As they walked through the parking lot of Yavapai Point, Jack’s thoughts turned from his guilt over letting Morgan manipulate his dad to pure anticipation of what lay ahead. The sky was lightening in the east, sending out delicate rays, burning the tips of the piñon pines until they looked as if they were on fire. The air itself seemed touched with gold. A walk-way arced from the parking lot toward a small building; next to it were more pines, more slices of sky touching distant mountaintops, and yet, with less than a hundred yards to go, the view of the canyon itself eluded him.
“I can’t believe we’re this close, and we still can’t see it,” Ashley said, straining onto the tips of her toes. “I read that in some spots you can almost walk right to the edge before you realize you’re on the rim.”
Hoisting a backpack bristling with camera equipment onto his shoulders, Steven told her, “Just a little farther. We’ve got to go right past this building and then….”
He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. In front of all of them loomed a vision that Jack could hardly believe, a vast space so incomprehensible it seemed to stretch across time itself. Golden-red rock descended in massive sheer-faced walls, ending in a tiny ribbon of water, a winding thread of silver that was the Colorado River. Shadows, ranging from brown to bluish-black, traced patterns against the enormous walls as if brushed by a painter’s hand, the dark and light composing shapes that were alive and ever-changing and incomprehensibly beautiful. But it was the expanse between the canyon walls that took Jack’s breath away. He was suddenly small, a tiny speck of matter on Earth, no bigger than a grain of sand and no more permanent than a snowflake. He stood with his family, perfectly still, taking in what he could in the silence. It was a good feeling, realizing where he fit. Everything seemed dwarfed here. He couldn’t move his eyes from the enormity of the canyon, not even to take a picture.
“It’s—it’s….” Olivia stopped, shaking her head in wonder.
“I’ve seen pictures,” Ashley whispered. “But they can’t even begin to capture it. It’s so much bigger. It’s so much more beautiful.”
Reverent, Steven said, “Nothing could capture this canyon’s spirit. I’m almost ashamed to even try putting it into photographs. The Native Americans called it Mountain Lying on its Back. It really is the mirror image of a mountain. Incredible.”
“I wish we had hours to stand on this spot and drink in all this beauty,” Olivia told them, “but I’m suppose to be at The Peregrine Fund field office at ten o’clock, and it’s an hour-and-a-half drive. We need to get Morgan, grab a bite of breakfast, and take off.”
“Where is the field office?” Jack asked.
“A place called Vermilion Cliffs. If all goes well, we might even get to see a condor!”
“There they are,” Steven announced. “The Vermilion Cliffs. Wow, what a view! Let’s stop for a minute so I can grab a few shots.”
The second he pulled the rental car to a stop at the side of the two-lane highway, all four doors swung open and all four Landons jumped out, Steven and Olivia from the front, Jack and Ashley from the back. Morgan remained in the middle of the backseat, where he’d sat like a stone for the whole hour-and-a-half ride from the Grand Canyon. As an act of defiance, he’d brought the Game Boy, but if it bothered Olivia, she didn’t let it show. She kept speaking to Morgan in a pleasant, brittle way that to Jack sounded strangely unlike his mother. It was a tone she’d adopted after their encounter two hours earlier when the four Landons had returned from the Grand Canyon rim to Yavapai Lodge.
With the room’s thick curtains drawn tight against the sun, Morgan was sitting hunched over the Game Boy. He quickly looked up and said to Olivia, “You told me not to take it to the rim. You didn’t say anything about not playing it here.”
Dryly, Olivia said, “It seems your upset stomach has miraculously healed itself. That’s fine, because we’re going to get some breakfast and then start out for—”
“Oh no,” Morgan said, clutching his middle. “I’m still too sick to go anywhere. I better talk to Mr. Landon.”
Olivia shook her head. “That won’t work this time. We’re all going, including you. Grab your things.”
And now, at the Vermilion Cliffs, Steven was attempting to draw Morgan out of the car, waving through the car window. “Hey, Morgan, wait’ll you see this view of the cliffs! Come on, it’s spectacular!”
“No thank you,” Morgan answered as he deftly punched miniature Game Boy keys.
Olivia