Chapter 13
"How old were you?" Susan said.
"Maybe fourteen," I said.
"Weren't you scared?"
"I was terrified," I said.
"You couldn't tell the police or your father?"
"I'd have lost them," I said. "I didn't know where they were going. I figured when they got to the river that they were going to one of his hideouts. But I didn't know where that was, not even which direction, you know? Upriver or down."
"And you had no time to think," Susan said. "And you were fourteen years old."
"Exactly," I said.
"How about the dog?" Susan said.
"She was kind of comforting, actually. She'd been on the river with me a lot over the years, and she liked riding in the boat."
"Why did you do it?" she said.
"Go after her?"
"Yes. Why didn't you say, it's an issue between a father and his child. It's not my business."
"I never thought about that," I said.
"But you were fourteen years old and alone."
"It seemed like the right thing to do," I said.
"I'm not saying it wasn't," Susan said.
"My father used to tell me, âEvery person is afraid sometimes. Thing is not to let it run you. Thing is to go ahead and do what you need to do.' "