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ONLY THE VERT BRAVEST SEE THE EDGE OF THE WORLD. I lie down on the grass and hold my breath until a noise like the swooshing of water fills my ears. Soon I can almost feel the earth rocking beneath me. If I squint, the thin streaming clouds against the sky are the sails that guide a ship. On the windward side, the wheat waves through the wind. On the leeward side, the curve of a rocky limestone outcropping is the breaching of a sperm whale, coming up for air. I go on this way for as long as I can. Eventually, though, I have to breathe again. And with the oxygen filling my lungs comes back reality, comes back Bleeding Kansas, comes back Father, dead and gone, and comes back the great responsibility I have of carrying on the Wonder name.
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