Here is a note about servants: when the cat’s away, the mice will play. Every time Lord and Lady Thrindian leave the house, the collective behavior of the staff changes drastically. The butler goes to the library and puts his feet up. He spends all day up to his bald spot in dusty old adventure books. The cook never changes out of her nightgown; everybody has to eat fruit, bread, and jerky so they don’t starve to death.

The rest of the staff goes out to Bonnaver Lake, a quick carriage drive from here in a clearing in the woods. It is a beautiful place, with crystal clear water and majestic mountain views. It is the perfect spot for a day away.

There are rocks of various sizes at Bonnaver Lake. Some are tiny and flat, ideal for skipping rocks. Others are taller than a medium-sized giant, so they are great for jumping and diving. I have become rather famous at Bonnaver Lake for one stupid, boneheaded activity. I belly flop.

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Now, I don’t just belly flop like a normal human. I climb to the very tip top of the giantest of the giant rocks and swan dive like a buffoon. Instead of gracefully floating into a dive, however, I hold the pose and let my legs, arms, stomach, and throat take the full impact of the water. I am long and lean, but you can still hear the echo of the thud all around the valley. The pain is immense, but the glory is worth the cost. In fact, I’ve gotten so good at the art of the belly flop that I barely go under water at all.

Even though I had a concussion, or something like it, Mollyanna’s instructions could not have been clearer. She had thrown my clothes over the ledge right next to the goldfish pond. It was barely deeper than knee-high, but it was enough. I peered into the darkness, barely able to make out the little slivers of gold in black water. I heard voices in my room, and that was enough motivation. I stood on the ledge just long enough to get my balance, and I dove into the night.