“We were armed,” Arch says. “For a while.” And then he asks, “Are you okay, Harry?”
“At least I’m not tied up any more,” Harry says.
“Ben, you’ve got to stop taking captives,” Juliana says. “We’ll run out of beds.” She gestures at the rear of the cavern, where there are several beds made from ticking filled with leaves. Then she addresses Arch and George, “Welcome to our cozy but temporary home. I’m sure we can make up beds for two more. But here, let’s put away those groceries.” Juliana and Cat and Lydia sort and store in various niches of the cavern the groceries, and then Juliana says, “I’m sorry we can’t offer anything better to drink than sassafras tea or its cousin, sarsaparilla.” So everyone sits around the fire with their drinks (Arch has never had sarsaparilla before, and discovers it is just carbonated sassafras tea), and Juliana asks Arch, “So how did you find us, when all the resources of the law failed to do so?”
“The law but not Harry Wolfe,” Arch says. “We used the same method he did. I took the liberty of looking to see what he’d been reading lately, and came across the key passage in The Choiring of the Trees.”
“Hey!” Harry protests. “You didn’t get into my computer!”
“Yeah, I did, but that’s all I saw. I didn’t peek at your porno. I just read the directions on how to get here. I knew this glen of the waterfall has traditionally been a really good hiding place, going all the way back to the Bluff-dweller Indians who used to live here.”
“Ah, yes,” Juliana says. “The Bluff Dwellers. We’ve taken over one of their shelters, just as my ancestors did when they first came to Stay More, long before the white man, and found that the Bluff Dwellers had lived here for hundreds of years.” Juliana smiles somewhat apologetically. “I suppose we could never have blamed the Panthers for usurping our ancestral lands, when after all we usurped the lands of the Bluff Dwellers.”
“But they were already long gone when your ancestors got here, weren’t they?” Arch observes.
“Yes, although I can’t imagine why they would’ve wanted to leave. Not a place like this.”
Ekaterina speaks up. “It’s assumed that disease, an epidemic perhaps, did away with the Bluff Dwellers. And it’s quite possible that the Osage who inhabited the valley down below never discovered this lost hollow.”
They, all seven of them, just sit around for the rest of the afternoon talking about Indians and computers. Then Juliana says, “If you gentlemen would like to go explore the hollow and have a close look at the waterfall, while we womenfolk prepare supper, we’ll trust you to return in time to eat with us. But just to be sure you don’t attempt to escape, I’ll have to ask Ben to guard you.”
Harry, who seems to have been allowed to explore the neighborhood previously, acts as their guide and conducts them, under Ben’s supervision, on a little tour of the hollow, and Harry points out things to them: the fact that there is another cavern concealed behind the waterfall, and there are in fact not one but two waterfalls which seem to be one because of the closeness of their juxtaposition although they come from different springs. Harry shows them a few artifacts left behind by the Bluff Dwellers and unmolested by later explorers: shards of pottery, fragments of cloth woven of grasses, and a few graves where Bluff Dwellers were buried. The late afternoon sunlight enhances the autumn color in the trees and makes the waterfalls seem like a deluge of diamonds. When this is all over, Arch tells himself, I’ve got to bring Beverly and Eliot up here to see all of this.
At supper they are treated to the fruits of Threasher’s labors, an assortment of the same dishes that had been served at the great banquet Arch had missed (he’d been canoeing the Mulberry River): tiny fried turtle pies made from an ancient Osage recipe, and a hearty turtle stew made from an ancient Svanetian recipe, the two cultures alike in their ability to create fabulous feasts from humble reptiles. Arch isn’t sure he’ll like the stuff, but after watching George Dinsmore attack his first few bites with gusto, Arch gingerly nibbles a turtle pie and discovers it’s delicious and even has thoughts about suggesting its inclusion in the Tyson line. But such a meal deserves some imported beers and good wines, and there is only water and coffee to wash it down. Still he thoroughly enjoys it, as well as the Svanetian dessert, a churchkhela, fabulous, which Ekaterina explains is a walnut roll made with walnuts and muscadines foraged right here in the lost hollow.
“That was terrific,” Arch comments, when supper is over. “I could almost make up my mind that I don’t want to leave.”
“That’s good,” Juliana says, “because you’re not going to leave.”
“Never?” Arch says, becoming a bit alarmed.
“Not until the election is over,” she says, “and maybe not until—when? January?—Vernon has been sworn in as the new governor.”
Arch is beginning to understand why Lydia was kidnapped. But now he takes this opportunity to ask Juliana to answer the question that has most bothered him: why did they take Lydia in the first place?
“Maybe I should let Lydia answer that,” Juliana responds.
“Before I explain,” Lydia says. “Let me ask Arch and George something. Did either or both of you guys know, sometime back in the summer, that Juliana and Vernon were carrying on together?”
“I don’t know about Arch,” George declares, “but naturally I did, on account of I was in charge of lighting down that helicopter beside that there wigwam in the middle of the night so that they could get together.”
“I was possibly one of the first to know,” Arch admits. “Because Vernon sort of asked my permission. That is, he wondered what effect it could have on the campaign. But it was common knowledge, or gossip, among all of the Samurai.”
“See?” Lydia says challengingly to Juliana. “I told you that everybody knew! Harry knew, didn’t you, Harry?”
Harry nods. “Nothing ever happens anywhere that I don’t know about.”
Juliana broods. There is a long silence, and then Lydia explains to Arch, “Juliana had me kidnapped because she thought I was the only one who knew about her and Vernon and she wanted to ensure my silence.”
Arch fixes Juliana with a harsh look. “Excuse me, but that was a pretty stupid thing to do.”
Juliana bristles at his remark, and then protests, “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Schaffer. I never intended any harm to Lydia…or to Harry or you and George. I wanted to hold her incommunicado for the remainder of the campaign, to keep her from revealing anything about Vernon and me which could damage his candidacy. I intended to release her as soon as he got elected.”
“And how,” Arch wants to know, “did you intend to keep her from revealing to the authorities who had kidnapped her?”
Juliana does not answer. She hangs her head and Arch knows she can’t answer because she’d never considered it.
“For that matter,” he goes on, “how are you going to keep us—Harry and George and me—from disclosing who kidnapped us?”
At once, he regrets having asked it, because there is only one answer: they would have to kill them to keep them from it.
Arch takes a deep breath and suggests, “Maybe if you’d just release them, and we could take them back, nobody would have to know what you did. We could just tell everybody that Lydia had got lost in the woods and Harry had got lost trying to find her, and we would all agree with a solemn oath that we’d never implicate you and Ben.”
“That would be nice,” Juliana says. “But I’ll have to sleep on it. Does anyone want more coffee?”
For the rest of the evening they talk about other things, as if the serious topic just discussed is just too serious to continue. Ekaterina tells the story of a group of Osages during the nineteenth century who were pursued by the U.S. Cavalry and fled into a lost hollow in the hills perhaps very similar to this glen of the waterfall. All attempts to find them failed. They were given up for dead or lost. But twenty years later the same Indians rode out of the hollow. And they hadn’t aged a day!
&nb
sp; “I’ve heard that story,” Juliana says. “But of course it’s just a legend.”
“I believe it,” Harry says. “Not only have I not aged a day since I’ve been here, I’ve subtracted all the days from my age!”
They laugh, and Lydia observes, “So has old Beanbag. So have I for that matter.”
Arch sneaks a glance at his hands, as if he might discover they are younger. He allows himself the fantasy that if he stayed here, he’d find time stuck in the present tense forever. But he is concerned about Beverly and Eliot. He usually calls them once a day, about this time of evening, to wish them goodnight and to ask Eliot how she’s doing in school and all. He realizes that in a day or two the newspapers will be full of these latest disappearances, and Hank Endicott will be commenting on how the Samurai are reduced from seven to only three, as in the film The Seven Samurai, and if Shoat Bradfield isn’t the guilty party he probably knows something about it. Arch realizes Lydia is still talking, and she’s asking him a question. “Arch, what’s happening with the plan to divulge all of Vernon’s Vices to the Bradfield people?”
Arch looks nervously at Juliana, and asks Lydia, “Does she know about the scheme?”
Juliana answers for herself, “Yes, Lydia told me all about it. How ironic that I went to such pains to protect Vernon when you people are hatching such a plot.”
“Well,” Arch says, “today was supposed to be VV-Day. Monica was going to go ahead and leak the list of Vernon’s Vices to the Bradfield campaign. Vernon himself called a moratorium on campaigning until you, Lydia, return safe and sound, and the Samurai—what’s left of us—are violating that moratorium with VV-Day. But Monica is convinced that you are safe and sound. She even had a dream about you last night.”
“Bless her heart. And she got my letter this morning?” Lydia asks.
“I couldn’t tell you that. If she did, she didn’t tell me.”
“She wasn’t supposed to,” Ben puts in. “She had to agree to not telling anyone and to leave her window shade up as a signal that she agreed to it, and when I went to Jasper this morning I noticed her shade was up.”
“Tell me,” Arch says to Ben, “how can you drive the Pierce-Arrow into Stay More without anybody seeing you?”
“I don’t drive into Stay More,” Ben says. “I leave the car on a back road above the village, and sneak in on foot.”
“And nobody has ever noticed the Pierce-Arrow there, or on the road to Jasper?” Arch asks and looks at George for confirmation.
“I seen it a time or two,” George allows.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Arch wants to know.
“Aw, I figured ole Ben was jist being standoffish,” George says. “I had no idee he was involved in this kidnap business.”
It grows late, and Juliana announces that she wants to sleep in order to resolve a solution to this problem. Ben prepares two new beds for the two new guests by stuffing ticking-sacks with leaves in the rear of the cavern. Juliana hears but rejects Arch’s request to phone his family just to let them know that he’s okay. One by one the seven people, using flashlights to see their way, use the latrine that Ben has erected in the woods nearby. When his turn comes, Arch realizes he could quite easily use the flashlight to make his way on back to his truck and to escape. But he does not. He couldn’t leave the others. Harm might come to them if he did. He returns to the cave and crawls into his bed. Everyone essentially is in the same huge bedroom, but he is some fifty or sixty feet away from where the women are sleeping, although George’s bed is not far from his. Arch has never slept on a mattress made of ticking stuffed with leaves, and although he can hear the leaves rustling whenever he turns he is surprised at how comfortable it is, and he has three blankets over him to keep him warm, and perhaps because of the excitement and activity of this busy day he drops quickly off into a deep and restful sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night he is awakened by the sound of a voice loudly whispering, “No, now, you jist caint do that. I won’t stand for it.” And another voice whimpering. And then silence.
Arch listens for a brief moment before falling back into his heavy slumber. And when he awakens again, the sunlight is shining over the top of the cavern’s front wall.
He climbs out of bed, and finds all the others up. Everyone except Harry, but Harry’s bed is empty. Ekaterina is standing at the fireplace with a frying pan in her hand and she asks Arch how he likes his eggs.
Juliana asks him, “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” Arch says. “I haven’t slept so well in ages, and I didn’t have a moment of trouble with my sleep apnea. I’ve had this condition for some time, and tried various medicines without much luck. But it didn’t bother me at all last night.”
“Maybe you don’t want to leave,” she suggests.
“Yeah, I’ve considered staying as long as you have to keep me,” Arch says. “Until Vernon is sworn in. But believe me, Juliana, Vernon’s not going to get sworn in if you’ve got three of his best campaign strategists in captivity. Not to mention his helicopter pilot and general factotum.”
“I’ve considered that,” she says. “And I’ve given serious consideration to your kind offer to keep the kidnapping a secret if we let all of you go. You’re an honest man, Arch Schaffer, and I’ll trust you that you will keep a solemn oath never to give us away.”
“Do you mean you’ll do it?” Arch asks, elated.
“Let’s all have breakfast and discuss the details,” she says. “As soon as Harry gets back.”
She has scarcely spoken these words when the door opens and Harry comes in, wrapped in a large towel, his hair wet. He hops on one foot and then the other and says, “Brrr! It’s a cold morning.” Then, seeing the way Arch is looking at him, he explains, “Every day before breakfast I take a shower in the waterfall. Nothing like that ice water to get the circulation going! And to keep from wanting a cigarette.”
He is soon dressed and joins them for breakfast. They eat and wait for someone to bring up the serious matter again. Ekaterina is the first to speak. “Just let me say that I hope no one will ever mention my involvement in this escapade. I can’t bear publicity.”
Arch understands. He isn’t sure just how much “involvement” she has had, but he knows that it would never do if her name reached the outside world.
Juliana remarks wistfully, “I’d like to go off in the woods by myself and let go of a good loud scream.”
Harry chuckles and says, “I recall a bit of advice I heard one time: ‘If you are falling off the mountain, stop screaming and flap your arms. If that doesn’t work, you can always go back to screaming.’”
There isn’t much laughter.
Arch, whose chapter this is, stuck in the present tense, will take upon himself the privilege of switching it to the future tense, because only in the future tense will solutions happen, and that is how he will be able to think about getting back to “civilization.” He will wonder, or will observe, just as Monica will have observed the shift from past tense into present tense, that they all will have been transported into the future tense. A practical man, he will even try testing it. He will pour himself another cup of coffee, and will notice carefully that he did not pour himself a cup, nor does he pour himself a cup, but he will pour himself a cup. And he will realize that maybe it will be appropriate, because although they will have to give up this sylvan Paradise of the glen of the waterfall, this storied hide-away of magical grottoes and arbors, they will in a sense be permitted to leave parts of themselves here forever. Arch will smile. But then he will recall that while this idyllic dell will have had such purposes long ago as sheltering Nail Chism after his escape from prison, and sheltering McPherson’s raiders (who also called themselves Samurai) during the war games of The Great War, it was also the place where Sull Jerram was assassinated, and where Daniel Lyam Montross likewise was killed, and where Dawny Harington at the age of not quite six was lost in the woods. It will be not entirely a place of Arcadian memo
ries, Arch will realize.
So when he will hear the sound of the helicopters, it will be almost as if he will have invented them himself. The four hostages and three captors will rush outside the cavern to look up at the sky and see the helicopters, several of them, hovering above. More suddenly than they will be able to think, the woods of the sylvan dell will disgorge dozens of men, all dressed in black, and all armed to the teeth. With precision and incredible speed the men will surround the seven former occupants of the cave, and will seemingly know the difference between the good guys and the bad guys, separating them from each other. These helmeted and black-clad men will immediately and quickly take captive Thomas Bending Bear, who will offer only minimal resistance. And then they will also place handcuffs on Juliana Heartstays.
Juliana will scream at Arch, “You tricked us!”
Arch will reply, “I didn’t have anything to do with this.” Except to invent the future tense, he will say to himself.
Dozens more of this SWAT team will arrive, until the glen of the waterfall will be practically filled with them. The swarm of helicopters overhead will drift away. One of the SWAT team, who will be dressed like all of the others in black but will have curly blonde hair, and will be female, will rush to Lydia and exchange powerful hugs with her.
“You always looked good in black,” Lydia will say to her.
“Don’t I?” Monica will say.
Chapter twenty
He will think often of the basic belief of Taoism, that we must be passive, like nature. He will sometimes chant aloud to himself, like a mantra, Wei wu wei: to do without doing, to act without action. He will decide to do nothing more to get himself elected governor. He will honor those few engagements already scheduled, but he will permit his Samurai to make no new ones nor to do anything beyond what will have already been done (and having given the opposition all those secrets was plenty) to win further votes. He will realize that his crucial mistake in running for governor was not that he will have failed to prevent all these things from happening around him and to him but that he will have failed to remember that central precept of The Tao: let well enough alone. He will deeply regret that he was not pu shih: independent and uninvolved and truly removed from all these things that will have happened.
The Nearly Complete Works, Volume 2 Page 139
