At the very heart of the sprawling estate known as Nineveh Park there was a great lake. Jonah stood at the edge of it and stared out over the blue water, wondering what to do next.

The good mood that I tricked him with earlier had given way to an irrational sense of panic. He'd gotten off the tram because he felt foolish riding back to where he started, and now he either had to wait for another one or make the long trip back on foot. Since he really didn't want to do either one, he did the only thing he could think of.

He rented a canoe.

This didn't really solve his problem, but there was a place there that rented them, and it sounded like fun, and he was there anyway, right? So he paid his money and walked out to the little dock, and a few minutes later he was paddling out across the lake.

Eventually he realized that the odd-looking spot on the opposite shore was actually not on the opposite shore at all, but was in fact a small island, complete with its own dock. He parked the canoe and stepped out, surveying the place with his hands on his hips. It was quite tiny, just a patch of overgrown grass with a few trees, and a park bench that looked absurdly out of place. He shrugged his shoulders and trudged up the little slope, then sat down with a sigh.

Ok, God, he thought. Here I am.

He sat for a long time, mesmerized by the light that sparkled and danced on the water. After a while he spotted something out there, and he squinted into the sunlight, trying to make it out. He thought it must be a canoe, but it didn't move like a canoe, and then suddenly he saw what it was. It was a guy in an overcoat and a hat, and he was walking on the lake, and he was coming right toward him.

That was me.