“We can only talk to him from the center,” he whispered. “We have to wade in.”
“I can’t go home with wet clothes,” she whispered.
“You don’t wear clothes,” he said. He let go of her hand and began to unzip his snowsuit.
And so they stripped, there on his father’s shore. She was luminous in the dark, a pale girl-shape picked out in the ripples of the pool, skinny, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he was self-conscious in his nudity, and he stepped into the pool as soon as he was naked.
“Wait,” she said, sounding panicked. “Don’t leave me!”
So he held out his hand for her, and then, realizing that she couldn’t see it, he stepped out of the pool and took her hand, brushing her small breast as he did so. He barely registered the contact, though she startled and nearly fell over. “Sorry,” he said. “Come on.”
The water was cold, but once they were in up to their shoulders, it warmed up, or they went numb.
“Is it okay?” she whispered, and now that they were in the center of the cavern, the echoes crossed back and forth and took a long time to die out.
“Listen,” Andy said. “Just listen.”
And as the echoes of his words died down, the winds picked up, and then the words emerged from the breeze.