“Alright,” shrugged Kenda, “but I want you to know that I will never think less of you if you decide to turn back. I guess what I mean is that it will be alright if we do.”

“Are you scared?” retorted Jackle. “Is that why you keep bringing it up?”

“I am scared a bit,” confessed Kenda, “but not so much of falling. I am afraid of doing something stupid, like refusing to quit when we are beaten by this cliff. There is no shame in understanding your limits and acting accordingly. I fear that you might not understand that.”

“I don’t understand it because I refuse to accept failure,” declared Jackle. “This cliff is not going to defeat me. You can go back down when you get scared, but I am going all the way to the top.”

Kenda sighed and stared off into the fog. He truly was not afraid of climbing the cliffs, but he was worried about his friend. He decided not to bring the subject up again.

“I thought this fog would be burning off by now,” Kenda changed the subject of the conversation. “We haven’t had such a fog that I can ever remember. I wonder if the fishermen will even take their boats out today?”

“I hope it clears soon,” replied Jackle. “The view of the city from up here must be fantastic. Let’s start climbing again. When the fog does lift, we will have an even better view.”

Kenda nodded as Jackle rose and squeezed into the crevice. The boys continued upward for another two hours before stopping again. Kenda took a loaf of bread out of his pack and broke off a couple of pieces. He gave one piece to Jackle.

“It still hasn’t lifted,” frowned Jackle as he munched on his bread. “Fog never lasts so late in the morning. Look towards the ocean. You can practically see the outline of the sun trying to break through the fog.”

“It is strange,” Kenda admitted. “I wonder what our families are thinking right now? Surely, we have been missed by now. Will they worry that we might be lost in the fog?”