by Brian Harmon
“I do a lot of reading.”
Albert looked down at the maze beneath them. “It’s not really spiraling, though, is it?”
“And porcupines don’t really throw their quills,” Wayne replied.
Albert stared down into the shadowy maze. Wayne was right. Facts got lost and exaggerated, especially over time. It was easy to imagine that this was the mythical Labyrinth of Crete, far away from where historians would have it placed, recorded in mythology and dismissed by history, but as real today as it was millennia ago.
“This also isn’t Crete,” Wayne added. “Mazes are everywhere. They’re associated with death and the underworld in lots of cultures. Even the Holy Grail is supposed to be hidden in one. The real Labyrinth of Crete is in Knossos, I think. But the legend of that labyrinth could have started from one like this.”
“Wow,” said Nicole. She was thoroughly impressed.
Brandy grinned. “He’s showing you up, Honey.”
Albert laughed. “Good. Maybe he’ll come in handy up ahead.”
“Maybe I will.” Wayne continued across the bridge, not looking at any of them. The others hesitated, still looking wonderingly down at the maze below.
Albert listened to the strange noise of the unseen hounds and wondered if they resembled bulls in any way. In his mind’s eye he could almost see their oozing, fleshy snouts sniffing up at them, wicked horns carving the dry air as they turned. The thought gave him a shiver.
“Which way do we go?” Wayne asked as he stood before the three tunnels and the four statues.
“The one on the right,” Albert replied, catching up to him. “Look.” He shined his flashlight up at the sentinel’s neck.
It was hard to see, but a close inspection revealed the shape scratched into the stone.
“It looks like a bird. And there was a bird feather in my box.”
“I see,” Wayne said. “I hope there’s enough tricks in that box of yours to get us through this place.”
“Me too.”
“Isn’t this the tunnel that gets small?” Nicole asked.
Albert nodded. “Yeah. We’ll have to go single file just a little ways down and then we’ll have to crawl.”
“Fun,” Wayne remarked. He still wasn’t entirely with them. His head was cloudy.
“Yeah,” Albert agreed. “Who wants to go first?”
“Aw, hell, I will,” Wayne volunteered. “I’ve been taking up the rear all night.” He stepped into the tunnel and began to walk, not waiting for anyone to agree or object.
Albert turned to the girls and motioned at the tunnel. “Ladies first.”
Brandy kissed him as she passed him by, a quick peck on the lips and a little smile. “Merci.” She was doing okay down here, he saw, probably feeling more secure with Wayne and Nicole along for the ride. He was surprised, however, that she had lost her modesty so quickly in front of Wayne. But then again, he had already begun to forget that he was naked in front of Nicole, and vice versa, it seemed.
Nicole went next and, taking a cue from Brandy, gave Albert a small peck on the cheek as she passed. “Merci,” she repeated, grinning the same mischievous grin she always reserved for those moments when she knew she had succeeded in embarrassing him. She then hurried after Brandy, both of them giggling a little at his expense. Brandy and Nicole had both taken French in high school and in college, and Albert understood why Gomez Adams was always driven into a tizzy when Morticia spoke it.
Grinning a little in spite of everything, he stared after them for a moment before following them down the passage.
It did not take long for the tunnel to narrow to a claustrophobic size. Soon they were hunched over, then on their hands and knees. It was right about here, as he was crawling through the darkness and dragging his backpack beneath him, that Albert realized his mistake.
Thirteen months ago, when he and Brandy first came down this tunnel, he’d asked Brandy if she wanted to go first or last and she’d chosen first. When the two of them had to get down on their hands and knees to continue, he discovered a magnificent view of Brandy, a view that was not just intimate, but pornographic. Now, as he crawled through this tunnel again, he realized that he’d managed to get not behind his girlfriend, with whose body he was now familiar, but Nicole! Just a short distance from his face was her round, bare bottom and the sensual slit of her sex between her lean thighs. He looked right at this part of her and blushed hot and red at the sight, yet for a moment he was unable to take his eyes off of her.
Since that first night in these dark tunnels, he had seen Brandy’s body literally hundreds of times. He thought back to their second date. To another couple it would have been too soon, too fast, but they’d been to the temple. They’d been to the sex room. In her bedroom at her parents’ house, where she lived until she moved in with him just two months ago, immediately after one of their Chemistry lectures where they had already begun to do little more than stare at each other, the two of them lay together on her bed, kissing and holding and touching, their bodies filled with passion. He’d been burning for her since returning from the temple, and she had been burning as hot for him. They stripped off each other’s clothes and made hot, passionate love together, then a second time soon after, slower and more tender.
Between their experiences in the sex room and the passionate lovemaking in the weeks to follow, it was a miracle that she had not gotten pregnant. It was a while before they even got around to taking the time to buy some condoms. They had merely done their best to be careful. After all, they’d never expected to keep feeling so much lust for each other. Since then, she’d gone on the pill, and even now Albert wondered sometimes if they weren’t pressing their luck.
Albert thought of all those nights he spent making love to Brandy, of the time he spent just lying beside her and running his hands over her skin, relishing her warmth and smoothness. He had studied her body, admired every part of her, including that sacred place between her thighs. He had never been with anyone before her, had never looked upon this part of any other woman, and now that he saw this intimate part of Nicole, he found himself noticing the many differences between the two of them. Their hair was different, of course, but so was the size. Nicole was somewhat larger down there than Brandy, though equally as lovely.
He lowered his eyes and looked at the floor. His face was still burning and he felt guilty at having looked. Yet he could not help feeling a little privileged. Nicole was a beautiful woman, inside and out. He would consider any man who got to see that part of her lucky as hell.
But on the other hand, that image of her was now burned into his brain. He could not seem to force it out of his mind. Worse still, he did not want to force the image away.
Perhaps he could simply blame it on the sex room.
Up ahead, Brandy, too, had fixed her eyes on the floor. Ahead of her was Wayne, and from her vantage point, she had seen more of him than she’d bargained for. She remembered a similar view she had of Albert the last time she was in this tunnel, and found herself thinking about Albert and Nicole behind her. One part of her was glad that Nicole was not behind Albert, where she could see what she was now seeing of Wayne, but another part of her wondered what Albert was seeing right now. She wished that she had made Nicole go ahead of her. A wicked spike of jealousy rose in her heart and she felt almost ashamed to recognize it.
But even as she wished this, she found her eyes lifting, returning again to Wayne’s body, examining his anatomy, noticing his size and the way gravity affected him, unable to resist her curiosity. She even found herself a little turned on by the sight, by the voyeuristic naughtiness of the view, just as she’d been all those months ago when she found herself studying Albert’s body from the same vantage point. But she was less turned on this time. Although he was somewhat better endowed than her boyfriend—which was admittedly interesting—Wayne’s posterior wasn’t nearly as attractive as Albert’s, in her opinion. It was considerably larger, for starters. And a little too hairy.
Bes
ides, she didn’t think this was any man’s best angle, not even her beloved Albert’s.
Ahead, Wayne had reached the sharp right turn and was awkwardly navigating around it. He wasn’t as small as the rest of them and he was beginning to wonder if he’d make it all the way through.
“How narrow is this going to get?” Nicole asked. She stared at Brandy’s feet as she crawled. She, too, had noticed what this tunnel revealed of her friend’s body and wondered what Albert was seeing of her at this very moment. But she was surprised at how little embarrassment she felt at the idea. Perhaps the shock of being suddenly naked in his and Wayne’s presence had obliterated most of her modesty. Or perhaps it was simply that she naturally felt comfortable in Albert’s presence. She certainly felt that they were very good friends, after all. Either way, it was refreshing that she was able to feel such freedom in a place like this. It was one less discomfort she would have to face.
Albert now stared only at the floor as he crawled across the smooth stone, trying hard not to raise his eyes in front of him. “Pretty narrow,” he replied.
The four of them made the right turn and started down the last stretch of tunnel. Soon they were on their bellies and, as lovely as she was, Albert was relieved to no longer have Nicole’s bottom in his face.
“I think I see the end,” Wayne reported, grunting, “but I’m not sure I’m going to make it.”
“You’re going to have to,” Albert said.
“I’m going to try, but I ain’t promising anything.”
Their bellies were on the cold, hard surface of the floor, the ceiling of the tunnel slowly closing down on their backs.
“I don’t like this!” Nicole said, her voice quivering a little with her growing claustrophobia.
“We can get through,” promised Brandy. “Just keep going.”
Wayne could see the tunnel’s opening just a few feet ahead, but his shoulders were already pushing against the closing walls. The ceiling was only an inch or two off his back. He turned himself slightly so that his shoulders spanned the tunnel diagonally, where it was the widest, and pushed. The surfaces in here were very smooth, almost slippery, and he could not get enough of a grip to push himself forward.
“Come on, Wayne,” Brandy urged. “You’re almost there.”
“I really don’t like this,” Nicole said again.
“You’ll do fine,” Brandy insisted. “You’re skinnier than me and I made it through here.”
“Well my tits are bigger,” Nicole retorted. “That means I have less room to breathe.”
“Well aren’t you special!” Brandy snapped back.
Just a few more inches and he might be able to reach the exit and use it as a handhold, but Wayne’s momentum was nearly stopped. He tried to take a deep breath of air and found that he couldn’t. The walls had closed in around him until he was wedged against the stone. Claustrophobia washed over him like icy water, threatening to drown him. “Oh god!”
“It’s okay!” Brandy promised. She could not reach his hand, so she grabbed his ankle and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Just relax.”
“Yeah,” Wayne said. “Relax.” He closed his eyes and concentrated. He fought back the things that were making him panic, the lack of space and air, but it was a losing battle.
“Come on, Wayne,” Nicole urged from farther back. He could hear the concern rising in her voice. She didn’t want to be stuck down here. She was scared. Panic was just around the corner.
Wayne could feel himself losing. Soon he would panic and then probably get hopelessly lodged in this tight space. They would not be able to get past him. They’d have to backtrack. They’d have to leave him here!
Suddenly, and for reasons he could not explain, he thought of Laura Swiff.
He focused his thoughts on her, on his encounter with her that morning, on those sexy, muddy eyes. He had wanted only to forget her, to stop thinking about her seductive advances, yet in the light of being lodged in this tunnel, of his fear of suffocating here in this tiny corridor, her lecherous advances seemed like such a ridiculous thing to obsess over. In fact, it was a welcome thought. He did not just remember her not-so-subtle proposition, he reconsidered it. Maybe when he got out of here he’d take care of that business. He’d already managed to give her the impression that he might be interested. She was certain to make herself accessible to him again in the near future. She wanted him, after all.
Wayne lay there silently for a moment, thinking about Laura Swiff and all the things he would do to her when he got home, all the things he would do to forget Beverly Bridger and Olivia Shadey and all the rest of the unpleasantness he had found since leaving her alone and unsatisfied in his empty apartment.
“Wayne?” Brandy’s voice, a little concerned. “Are you okay?”
“What’s wrong?” Nicole asked. There was an edge to her voice that suggested tears would not be far off.
“Wayne?” Brandy squeezed his ankle.
“I’m fine,” Wayne assured them. His body was finally relaxing, his tension flowing out of him in great waves. “Just thinking.” He lay there for a moment longer, imagining what Laura might look like naked, perhaps perched on top of him as he lay on his back, her body rising and falling in a soft, flowing motion, her muddy eyes filled with lust and gazing down at him.
“Well think faster!” Nicole hissed.
He could move. And in just a few seconds he had pushed himself far enough to grab hold of the ledge, but he found that he did not need it. He pushed with his feet until his shoulders were free of the tunnel and then pushed himself out with his arms and tumbled onto the hard floor, cursing at the painful landing.
Brandy, Nicole and Albert followed him out of the tunnel, each of them not so much exiting as spilling onto the floor.
“We made it,” Albert sighed, and thought to himself that the real trick would be going back the other way. He looked back and saw that the two lipstick Xs Brandy used to mark the passage the first time they came here were still clearly visible.
Wayne stretched, glad to be free of that place, and immediately shoved his mental image of Laura Swiff to the back of his mind, knowing somehow that she would not stay there. He stood in a huge, round room. There were many more openings identical to the one he’d just tumbled from, openings that led to God only knew where. The one from which they exited was still marked with Brandy’s lipstick from their previous visit. In the center of this room was the widest, deepest hole he’d ever seen. A single sentinel stood pointing down a spiraling stone staircase. “Wow,” he said, hardly believing what he was seeing.
Albert peered down into the hole. “The fear room’s at the bottom of these steps,” he informed everyone. “We’re getting closer. Be careful. There’s no railing and it’s a long way down.”
The four of them began to descend the narrow, stone stairs, growing ever closer to the room that had proven to be the limit of Albert and Brandy’s courage. What lay beyond that terrible room, no one knew except perhaps the blind man, and so far he had not told.
Chapter 11
After he had walked for a while, Wayne began to think of Laura again, as he knew he eventually would. He was taking up the rear again, his eyes fixed on his feet as he carefully descended into this strange oblivion of darkness. He knew he should not let this trouble with Laura bother him so much. If he wanted to fuck her he should just fuck her and if he didn’t he should just tell her to piss off and forget about it. But it wasn’t as simple as that. He didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t let it go. The truth was that he wanted to do it. He was only twenty-two, without a real care in the world. Nothing tied him down. There was no reason to let something like this dominate his thoughts. He had told himself that the only reason he didn’t want to go through with it was that she was Charlie’s girlfriend, but he’d since discovered the truth about Charlie. And yet the wrongness of it still gnawed at him, struggling against that other part of him, the part that wanted the soft feel of a woman’s arms again…even
if that woman happened to be a vulgar whore.
He felt a wave of anger flow through him, but it was weak, tired. Besides, he was not angry with Laura. He was not angry with Charlie, either. He was angry with himself. This was all about Wayne. This was about issues that went back way before he ever met Charlie or Laura.
He looked down at the three people descending the steps ahead of him and realized for the first time that they were probably as close as he’d been to having real friends in a very long time. All his buddies from high school were gone. Mark and Sam were attending the University of Missouri in St. Louis, Brent was off on the east coast somewhere practicing his salute for Uncle Sam, Will…well God only knew where the hell Will was. He disappeared shortly after graduation. And Harvey got married almost right out of high school and went to work for some construction company. He hadn’t heard from any of them more than a few times since sophomore year, and he was a senior now. There was something like a spark in his head as he realized this, a new light where there wasn’t one before, like a star being born in his conscious mind. Suddenly it all began to make a little more sense. He wasn’t obsessing over Laura Swiff. He never was. He was obsessing over himself.
He sat down, feeling a little dazed. He supposed it took watching two people die and him getting his fat ass lodged in a narrow tunnel to bring it close enough to the surface for him to actually see it. He wanted to sleep with Laura simply because he wanted to be with someone. He was lonely. He’d known this all along, after all, but he hadn’t realized just how lonesome he’d become. His roommate was always telling him he should get out more, go to a party, hit a football game, something. He’d always figured that Charlie just liked to tell him how to run his life, but he’d actually had a point. When was the last time he went out? When was the last time he had any real fun? He hadn’t been with a girl since Gail Porbin, his high school girlfriend, with whom he’d broken up shortly after graduation. He wanted the companionship that he sorely missed after Gail was gone. But he did not want a one-night stand and these were the words that Laura Swiff probably had tattooed on her ass.
