The black snake. Behind the tall house bearing shingles the color of pewter. Into the heat-shimmering marsh below, sloping to the Cassadaga River. Your first morning in Ransomville, you slip from your hard, unfamiliar bed, dress swiftly, and leave the house wanting to see the river close up. A fierce excited din of birds, bullfrogs, cicadas on all sides.
Fear is good, fear is normal.
Fear will save your life. Through a straggly stand of polelike barkless trees, you will learn are bamboo, the river shines bottle-green in the morning sun. Reflecting light like shattered glass. Hundreds of miles away. On the farther shore of the river there's a gauzy mist.