by P. J. Hoover
“Shoe size seven, clothing size seven. Weight—”
I put up my hand. “Stop there. You’re right.”
Scott winks at me then turns to Ethan, spouting off his measurements with what I’m betting is equal precision. Then, after we go over the list of everything we need, which turns out to be a ton of stuff, all of which we are supposed to be able to carry on our backs, he brings up the next question.
“You got a guide yet?” Scott says.
Ethan shakes his head. “We don’t need a guide.”
Scott clutches his stomach and pretends to laugh heartily. “Ha ha ha. That’s funny. Of course you need a guide.”
“No, we’re fine,” I say, not laughing at his pretend humor. “No guide.”
Scott puts his tablet computer down on the counter. “Okay, just so I am totally sure that you understand, Krubera Cave is the deepest known cave on the planet, and it’s only been explored to twenty-two hundred meters so far. It takes twenty seven days to reach the bottom. There are more than fifty ways for a person to die during a descent, including drowning, poisonous gas inhalation, and electrocution. There are side passages that if you accidentally take, you will never find your way back from. Many of the paths are flooded, meaning you’ll need scuba gear to get through them. There are descents where you will need miles of rope. And let’s not even begin to talk about the rapture.”
I take the bait. “What’s the rapture?”
Scott leans close. “The rapture is your worst enemy down in the depths of Krubera Cave. It’s an extreme reaction to the darkness and the depth, sort of like having an anxiety attack while doing drugs. It’s where your brain begins to talk to you. It says, ‘Turn around. Get me out of here. Now.’ It’s like a basic instinct that all humans have. Experienced cavers may be able to deal with it, but you two …”
I roll my eyes at his over-drama. “We’ll be fine.”
“Did I mention the part about it taking twenty-seven days to reach the bottom?” Scott says.
“You did, but we’re okay,” I say. I hand him my credit card to pay for our supplies.
“Right,” Ethan says, backing me up. “No guide.”
“You guys are nuts, you know that, right?” Scott says, swiping my card and handing it back to me. “Because I could guide you. Take you down there and back. Help you follow the path. Improve your chances of staying alive.”
Exactly what we don’t want is to follow the path. Because once we’re in the cave, we’re following the Deluge map, not some path that hundreds of people have followed before us. I’m willing to bet that they’re different.
“We don’t need a guide,” Ethan says again, and this time, there is enough firmness in his voice that Scott doesn’t ask again.
“It’s your lives,” he says.
That it is. And my parents’ lives. Because if my parents went down into Krubera Cave eleven years ago, then that is where we are going to find them.
I ignore the little voice in my head that adds a final thought. If they are still alive.
They have to be alive. I have to find them. Just thinking about it makes nervous excited butterflies fly around in my stomach. I wonder what they’ll say when they see me. Will they recognize me? It was a long time ago. I take a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay. We know where we’re going. We have a plan.
“The first two drops are rigged,” Scott says. “But you’ll need help with the initial descent.”
“Can you help us with that?” I ask.
“I’m a guide. I don’t just do descents,” Scott says, like it’s far below him, and how dare we even suggest it.
“How about someone else?” I say.
“There are other descents after that,” Scott says. “Longer than the initial ones.”
“We know,” Ethan says. “We’ll be fine for those. We just need help at the beginning.”
Scott seems to consider this because maybe he finally realizes that we’re serious about the no guide thing. “I can ask around. But in the meantime, if you change your mind about the guide …”
“We won’t,” Ethan says. He grabs a protein bar from a nearby display. And then he hands something across to Scott.
I hardly have time to react before I see that it’s his credit card and Scott is about to swipe it through the machine.
“Stop,” I say, but it’s too late. Scott swipes the card for the protein bar purchase.
Anger flashes through me. “I told you not to use your credit card,” I say to Ethan.
“It’s not a big deal, Hannah,” Ethan says. “I told you that my parents never check my card as long as I stay under a certain amount. It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” I say.
“It’ll be fine,” Ethan says.
I want to pull my hair out in frustration. “That’s not good enough. It’s a risk. What if they do look? What if they see where you are? And what if whoever stole the map piece finds out?”
Unspoken but there between the two of us is the fact that I think his dad is almost certainly involved, even if it’s just feeding information to Amino Corp.
Ethan shrugs, which is extra infuriating. “I don’t see why you’re getting your panties all in a bunch, Hannah. So they find out I’m here in Abkhazia. What are they going to do? Fly out here and get me? We’ll be deep in the cave by then. It won’t matter.”
Of course it will matter, I want to scream, because then your dad could tell Amino Corp and they could send someone to follow us. They’d know the starting point, and they’d find the Code of Enoch.
“Just don’t do it again, okay,” I say, though it’s too late. I should make him pay for everything from this point forward.
Scott hands Ethan a receipt to sign. “Your stuff will be ready in three days.”
Panic fills me. “Three days? No. We need it today. We want to set out tomorrow.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Scott says. “You think it’s cost effective to keep spelunking boots in every size and color here in BFE nowhere? Sure, the cave is popular, but it’s not that popular. It’ll be three days minimum. I recommend the Amran Hotel.”
I feel like stomping my foot, but I manage to stop myself from the childish impulse. Three days feels like forever. The only plus side is that the Amran Hotel has solid Internet, and I’m able to fill Lucas in on everything.
“What about once you’re below ground?” Lucas says once I’ve checked into my room and called him. “How are you going to stay in touch with me?”
I’ve been trying to figure that out.
“I think I can buy a signal booster here in Gagra,” I say.
Lucas laughs. “Did you say Gagra! I can’t believe you’re in a place called Gagra. It sounds like something that happens after you eat something rotten.”
“You’d actually love it,” I say. “Lush mountains on the edge of a gorgeous beach that curves around and stretches on for miles. You could paint for years out here and never get bored. It’s a total vacation hotspot.” When I checked in, the hotel manager made sure I knew where all the best spas were, just on the off chance I wanted a massage or sauna treatment during my stay. Maybe I’ll come back for a vacation after this is all over.
Lucas has been stopping in to check on the animals, so I ask him about Castor and Pollux and ask him to give them a special piece of fruit and to tell them that it’s from me. This may seem silly, but they will recognize my name. Sugar gliders are smart.
“How long do you think this whole thing will take you?” Lucas says.
“No clue.” I feel like once we’re in the cave, even though we’ve seen the map, everything will look different. “It’ll probably be at least a month. Maybe two.”
“One month! Two months! You’re kidding, right?” Lucas says.
“It’s like an adventure,” I say.
“I don’t like you being on an adventure,” Lucas says. “Especially going to the bottom of some freezing cave.”
“We ordered the best
equipment,” I say. “It will be fine.”
“But what about Ethan? You hardly know him.”
“Ethan’s not so bad,” I say.
“You don’t know that.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Just be safe, Hannah, okay? That’s all I ask.” Unlike normal, Lucas’s voice is laced with worry. I’ve never heard him so serious before.
“I promise,” I say. “And I appreciate the concern.”
“I miss you, Hannah,” Lucas says.
“I miss you, too.” I blow him an air kiss and then we say goodbye and hang up.
I meet Ethan down in the lobby, but he’s on the phone with his mom. He’s being really evasive, giving half answers and super general descriptions in a way I’m sure would be evident to anyone.
“You don’t think she’s suspicious?” I say after he hangs up.
He sticks the phone back in his pocket. “I think she’s busy with work. I think she’s happy to not have to worry about me this summer.”
“I’m sure she misses you,” I say.
Ethan shrugs. “Doubt it.”
He has to be wrong. His parents must care about him.
“What about your pre-programmed email?” I say. “You need to—”
He puts his hand up. “I already changed it, so don’t worry.”
“You sure?” I say. The last thing we need is some “Read this upon my death” email being sent to his parents.
“Yes, I told you not to worry.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I’m half tempted to snag his phone and check his email myself.
“So three days,” Ethan says, trying to shift the conversation. “What are we planning on doing?”
“We?” I say. Since they got us outfitted, or at least the promise of us outfitted, Sena and Deniz are on their way back to Istanbul. Although there was an extended phone conversation with their father, including much unrequited pleading on Sena’s part, Tobin was unyielding. Our goodbye had included a very friendly hug from Deniz which I was more than happy to return. He also asked if it would be okay if he emailed me.
“Of course we,” Ethan says. “It’s not like I’m that hard to get along with, am I?”
As much as I want him to be hard to get along with, he’s not at all.
“I guess we could study the cave together,” I say. “And practice rappelling. And you could run with me in the mornings. It’ll help get you in shape.”
“What?” Ethan says. “I’m totally in shape. Have you seen these rock hard abs?” And before I know what he’s doing, he pulls up his shirt and actually shows me his stomach.
I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t imagined what Ethan looks like without his shirt on, but not even my very creative imagination can prepare me for reality. Ethan’s abs are so well defined that it looks like I could bounce pennies off them.
I flick my eyes upward as if I am unimpressed. “Not bad. But you can still use the exercise. And we can buy you some new boots. My treat.”
“What’s wrong with my boots?” he says.
“Nothing except you’re not really building libraries right now.”
“I like these boots.”
“I’m sure they were fine … ten years ago when you got them at the thrift store. Why don’t you get a new pair?”
Ethan shakes his head and laughs. “No, you don’t get it. These boots are magical. These boots, beyond anything else in the entire world, have the ability to annoy my dad with a single look.”
“You wear boots to annoy him?”
“Sure. He hates them.”
“Couldn’t you just forget to change the toilet paper roll instead? That always annoys Uncle Randall.”
“Trust me, no. I am never getting rid of these boots,” Ethan says. “And anyway, what about your hat?”
My hands go to my head. “What’s wrong with my hat?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Ethan says. “You just always wear it.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You did,” I say. “At least you implied it.”
“I did no such thing,” Ethan says. “I think your hat is cute.”
Awkward silence ensues. I bite my lip and study him. Cute? He thinks my hat is cute?
“Bunny rabbits are cute,” I finally say, narrowing my eyes so my face doesn’t give anything away.
“And puppies,” Ethan says, recovering quickly from the awkward silence. “Don’t forget about puppies.”
“Just go get ready to run, okay?”
“Yeah, good plan,” Ethan says.
Ethan has no problem keeping up with me on our first run, which is seven miles, taking us around the entire town and up into the neighboring mountains. If anything, and this is really hard for me to admit, he might actually be in better shape than me. There’s even one point when he jogs backwards. I kind of want to punch him.
“I’m not going too fast for you, am I?” he asks.
“Not hardly.” I pick up my pace. This will only help my training.
“Because you can meet me back at the hotel if you need to fall behind,” Ethan says. “I know girls don’t like to sweat.”
“I’ll let that one slide,” I say. “But one more girl comment, and I’m tripping you.”
“You’ll have to catch me first,” Ethan says, and he takes off sprinting.
I tear off after him, and we sprint the entire half mile back to the hotel. By the time I get there, I’m breathing heavy and feel like I’m going to heave up a lung. The only consolation I have is that Ethan is doing the same.
“Shower and meet you in the coffee shop?” I say between breaths.
Ethan nods without a word, and we go our separate ways.
Who knew guys could take so long to get ready? I wait at the coffee shop for fifteen minutes, and Ethan still doesn’t show up. They have a small gift section, so I pick out a pack of postcards for Lucas showing some of the best views around, then I look for a travel book written in Abkhazian for Uncle Randall. I can’t decide between two different ones since I don’t know what either one says, so I get them both and go to the counter to pay for them and to order my drink.
“Coffee with milk,” I say. This is no Starbucks, but it seems that the language of coffee is international.
“Coconut or regular?” the barista says. She’s an older woman with long graying hair and a dark complexion.
“Coconut,” I say, happy that I have options even here in Gagra.
“It’ll be ready in a couple minutes,” she says in flawless English.
“You speak English?” I say.
“Only when English speaking customers come in,” she says.
“Which is how often?” I ask.
She dumps a bag of beans into the coffee grinder and hits the button. The smell is instant, and I close my eyes and sink into the scent I love.
“Not as often as you’d think,” she says. “Most of the people who come are from Eastern European countries. Ukraine. Hungary. Turkey.”
“My name’s Hannah, by the way,” I say.
“Naala,” she says. I don’t know what it mean, but it makes me think of a blooming flower.
“So where’d you learn English?” I ask.
Naala continues to make my drink, not even looking my way as she speaks. “My parents taught me, in secret, back when the Soviet Union was still the Soviet Union. They could have been thrown in jail if it was ever discovered.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t,” I say.
“Me, too, Hannah,” Naala says.
“So how long have you owned the coffee shop?” I ask, as little gears begin to turn in my mind.
“Over twenty years,” she says. “Of course, back then it wasn’t a coffee shop. I called it a café because that was trendier. Now everyone wants coffee, no matter where they are.”
“So you were here twenty years ago?” I say.
“Sure was. Living in the apartment upstairs.”
“And do you remember most of the people who come through?”
“Not all of them,” Naala says. “But some stand out.”
I take a deep breath. “Do you remember two people that may have come through here about eleven years ago? A man and a woman, American?”
She finishes up making my drink and slides the steaming mug my way. It’s like a little piece of heaven that I can’t wait to sink into. I let the steam drift over my face. Maybe I do need a steam bath like the hotel manager suggested.
“That’s not much to go on,” Naala says.
I’m already holding my wallet because I have to pay, so I slide a picture of my parents from it and pass it over to her. “Do you recognize these people?”
Naala takes the picture and immediately sucks in a breath. “The letter.”
My heart pounds. “What letter?”
She slowly shakes her head. “They were here to visit the cave. They gave me a letter to mail. I put it aside, and I forgot about it. I was cleaning out the place about a month ago, and I found it. It didn’t have an address, but I looked the addressee up online and finally mailed it.”
My eyes widen. “You were the one who mailed the letter.”
“I did. You received it?”
“My uncle,” I say, trying to stay calm. But this is huge. “My mom and dad were the ones who were here. Did you ever hear anything from them again?”
She may be able to point me right to them.
Her eyes soften. “They disappeared into the cave. I don’t know if they made it out or not. I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what to say. My parents were here. Right here in this very same coffee shop, eleven years ago. The connection I feel with them is so strong in this moment. I want to find them so badly. Bring them back. Erase the past and rewrite my childhood with my parents in it. But no matter how much I may want that, I can never change my past. I can, however, map out my future.
“You’re here looking for them?” Naala says.
