Once we fell in and learned to accept wet in our socks, smoke in our lungs, and not to count on kindness from strangers, it turned into a kind of freedom. Once you give in, it’s quicker to swim to shore than to walk. Though you may come out in a different place than you planned, once you shake yourself off, it’s usually only a few steps back to the trail.

“Some days great just isn’t one of the choices.” Mom’s whole body sagged as she said it, like the words made her twoteen times heavier.

I tried to imagine it, but the situation Mom was describing sounded more like the middle of a story than the end. “Then how will we get out?” I asked.

“Don’t you dare take off!” Mom hissed, hooking her frozen claws around my collar and trapping me for monster meat.

“It’s not criminal, but it’s a violation of something-or-other,” Mom said in her law-gic voice. “I wouldn’t call it il-legal. More like extra-legal.” What a relief. If the Law found us, they would probably give me a medal for being so much more legal than everyone else.

“Oh good! The horse came home after all. I knew we’d find a happy ending.”

“After they mounted a thorough search for the horse, and a respectful time had passed for grief, I bet they adopted a buffalo,” I concluded. “Hey, what’s the difference between a buffalo and a bison?”

I must have been behind a rock by the time Mom came by. The next time I heard her, she was bellowing my name from farther down the trail.

I must have been behind a rock by the time Mom came by. The next time I heard her, she was bellowing my name from farther down the trail.

I looked back at the bite mark and my body went cold. A something was flapping just beyond the edge of it...

If you try to make everything look like the plan, then you're going to miss a lot and spend the whole adventure being frustrated.