‘It was a very nice thought, Dave,’ I sighed. I sang, ‘But belle, je ne comprends pas ‘foot rub,’ so you’ll have to speak to me some other...way.’ He laughed. ‘Jack Johnson would cringe if he heard you butcher his song like that.’ I kicked him and feigned offense. ‘Are you criticizing my singing voice?’ ‘Baby, you have a lovely voice. I was referring to you changing the lyrics. So how else could I possibly show my appreciation of how tolerant you were of my judgmental mother?’ ‘Jewelry is out. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift.Or I tried to.I caught myself listening to the music that vibrated eerily through the cave system, and to the steady creak of the mattress below me caused by the rise and fall of my own ribcage. I sighed and huffed, tossed and turned, boxed the too-limp pillow and ended up glaring at the underside of the bunk above me with an annoyance-induced headache pulsing between my eyebrows. My shoulders and neck felt like there was a too-taunt piano wire running. More

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