Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  She’d always hated working. Hated doing her schoolwork. Hated doing her chores. Hated looking after her little sisters. But the idea of working for Mr. Temperance made her want to dance and sing. She giggled and spun a little circle, swinging her lunch pail so high it almost tipped out her sandwich and dried apples.

  “Cissy Hardin, you’re actin’ plumb loco this mornin’. What’s got into you?”

  Cissy grinned at Pansy, who ambled up beside her. “Happiness, Pansy, that’s what got into me. Pure, sweetly flowin’ happiness.”

  Pansy scuffed up road dust with her bare feet. “Glad you’re so all-fired happy, seein’ as how you’re gonna be leavin’ me without a best friend here before long.”

  Pansy’d moped off and on ever since Cissy told her she planned to go live in the city, but she wouldn’t let her friend’s doldrums drag her into despair. Not today. “Well, guess what? I ain’t gonna leave right away after all. Gonna stay around all summer instead.”

  Pansy’s face lit. “Truly, Cissy?”

  “That’s right. I got me a job at the cave estate. Gonna be workin’ there every afternoon for a man who takes photographs.”

  “Whatcha doin’ for him? Cleanin’ up?”

  Cissy explained about Beau, enjoying Pansy’s laughter when she talked about the burro trying to bite at Mr. Temperance’s hand but taking little pieces of apples from her without the tiniest nip. “Guests line up to sit on Beau’s back an’ have their photograph made. An’ you know what Mr. Temperance’s payin’ me? Three whole cents.”

  “A day?”

  “No, silly, three cents for every picture.”

  Pansy squealed. “Cissy, you’re gonna be rich!”

  Cissy made a face. “I hafta give Daddy half of it. But even so, I’ll be puttin’ enough in my pocket to get me all the way to Nashville, Tennessee.” She tossed her head, making her braids bounce. “If that’s where I decide I wanna go.”

  Pansy shook her head, wonder blooming over her round face. “You could go just about anywhere in the world, I reckon.” Then she grabbed Cissy’s hand and made her stop. “But before you go, remember you gotta give me a keepsake. You been thinkin’ on it?”

  Cissy nodded. “But I ain’t come up with anything yet. How about you?”

  Pansy slipped her arm through Cissy’s and tugged her forward. “I got somethin’. Somethin’ real special.”

  “What?”

  Pansy grinned. “I ain’t gonna tell you yet. Not ’til you settle on your keepsake. Then it’ll be a surprise.”

  Up ahead, Della turned around and waved her arm. “Hurry up, Cissy! Bell’s gonna ring soon.”

  “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” She and Pansy ran the rest of the way and slid onto their bench together.

  The teacher called the roll and then started handing out assignments. Cissy listened with only half an ear. Who cared about long division or the latest addition to the Bill of Rights? She was going to be rich, and rich people didn’t have to know anything.

  Devlin

  Time spent with Lee paled in comparison to time with Rebekah. Devlin appreciated the man’s knowledge, strength, and diligence. The guide even buried their bodily waste without so much as a wrinkled nose. But he didn’t talk about books, he didn’t sing ballads, and he didn’t have a long dark braid swinging gently against his spine to distract Devlin when the shadows of the cave tried to overwhelm him.

  Tolly kept up a stream of chatter, though, and he knew the best places to stop for breaks. On their second day under the ground, Tolly allowed a twenty-minute rest at the cave’s underground flower garden found along a tunnel called Cleveland Avenue. Devlin would never forget the beauty of the gypsum formations. He held a lantern aloft to better examine the delicate swirls and tiny crystal petals.

  “Yessuh, hard to ’magine that minerals left behind from drippin’ watuh could make somethin’ so beautiful.” Tolly’s voice carried the same wonder that filled Devlin’s mind. “The Almighty Creatuh, He sure did some good work down here.”

  Devlin shot Tolly a curious frown. “Almighty Creator? Do you mean God?”

  “ ’Course I mean God. He made the earth an’ ever’thing in it. So don’t it go to reason He planned this, too? An’ you know what else, Devlin? He knowed we’d be here on this very day an’ time, a-lookin’ at ’em an’ marvelin’ at the wonduh o’ His creation.”

  A strange feeling—of discomfort or desire?—tiptoed through Devlin’s center. Unable to discern its source, he moved the lantern closer and put his attention fully on the intriguing formations. The soft flow of light made the crystals shimmer, and Devlin extended his fingers toward one.

  Tolly’s hand smacked. “Nuh-uh, no touchin’. Got some firm rules about that.”

  Lee stepped forward, his movements timid, as if he feared Tolly might bat at him next. “Back when the tours started, guides’d let folks fill their pockets with as many crystals as they could hold.”

  Tolly shook his head, regret carving furrows in his forehead. “Foolsome people done ravaged the cave. Who knows what this’d all look like if those folks wouldn’t have bothuhed nothin’? From here on out, we’s gonna let God keep on creatin’, an’ we ain’t gonna mess it up.”

  Lee bent close to the wall, sucking in a breath. “Tolly…”

  “What?”

  “Look.” He angled the lantern close to a low-growing section. One of the largest crystal formations showed a clean break at the base.

  Tolly frowned. “Mebbe a bat flew too close, knocked it off.”

  Lee swept the lantern slowly along the floor. “Then why ain’t it lyin’ here somewhere? A bat wouldn’t carry it off.” The man turned a worried look on Tolly. “Look at the size. Gotta be as big around as my thumb. If it was still here, we’d find it.”

  Chills broke over Devlin’s frame. He whispered, “We aren’t the only ones in the cave, are we?”

  Tolly snorted, but Devlin suspected he was faking his disdain. “Now, we ain’t seen proof o’ somebody else bein’ in here, have we? No burnt patches from campfires. No food scraps lyin’ around.” He glanced at Lee, and Devlin was sure he glimpsed a warning in his frown. “That crystal could’ve broke off weeks ago an’ been carted off by some little cave creature that mistook it for somethin’ good to eat. Plumb silly to think there’s somebody lurkin’ in these passages.” He waved his arm. “C’mon, we’ve lollygagged here long enough. Let’s get to measurin’.”

  Devlin followed, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that somewhere, someone hid behind boulders or outcroppings and observed their progress. The edginess still lingered when Tolly dropped his pack in the open area he called Call’s Rotunda and announced, “We’ll set up camp here, get ourselves a good night’s rest. In the mo’nin’ we can measure the three tunnels leadin’ off o’ the rotunda, an’ when that’s done, we’ll make our way out to daylight fo’ a day or two, let Devlin get caught up on his drawin’ befo’ comin’ in again.”

  Lee plopped down next to his pack, apparently ready for rest, but Devlin placed his waywiser next to the wall and then picked up a lantern. He circled the space, peeking behind tumbles of rocks and into crevices large enough for a man to hide.

  Tolly chuckled. “You searchin’ fo’ an outhouse, Devlin? I done tol’ you when we started out, gotta think o’ these rocks like trees in a forest an’ just go behind.”

  Devlin wouldn’t go behind anything until he was satisfied someone wasn’t already there, crouched and waiting. His perusal turned up nothing more than shadows and a few nearly translucent, long-legged spiders that gave him the shivers as much as a masked bandit might. He quickly rejoined the other two men in the center of the room.

  Tolly had opened his pack and spread sandwiches, fruit, and cookies on a square of linen. “Help yo’self. Bread’s gettin’ a little dry on these san’wiches, but they’ll still fill yo’ stomach.”

  Devlin crouched beside the makeshift table, but he didn’t reach for a sandwich. “How can you be sure th
e person who rifled your pack isn’t still in these tunnels?”

  Tolly took a generous bite from a sandwich and shrugged. “I’s sure, ’cause there ain’t no way fo’ somebody to stay holed up in here fo’ days on end without supplies an’ such. An’ if they was stealin’ from my pack, they di’n’t have no supplies o’ their own. So they had to ’ve skedaddled outta here already.”

  “How do you know they didn’t gather supplies and come back?”

  Tolly chuckled. “Devlin, you’s bound an’ detuhmined to borrow worry, ain’t you? I got ever’ confidence the guides’re keepin’ watch ovuh the openin’. They ain’t gonna let nobody come in ’less they’s part of a tour group.”

  “But—”

  He pointed at Devlin with his sandwich. “Ain’t you learned the scriptures ’bout not givin’ way to worry? The God who looks aftuh the birds an’ flowuhs is surely gonna look aftuh His children. Ain’t nothin’ gonna befall us that He don’t see comin’.”

  Slowly Devlin settled himself with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees. Of course he’d attended church services with his parents, and he’d heard ministers preach on the futility of worry. He was fairly certain he’d read the scriptures Tolly referenced. But the niggling apprehension lingered. “Still, something could befall us that we didn’t see coming. It troubles me to think someone could be lurking about and might sneak up on us while we’re sleeping and take our remaining torches or lantern fluid.”

  The thought of being trapped in the dark sent prickles of fear through him. He shivered despite his heavy jacket and gloves. “Maybe we should set up camp someplace less…open. Couldn’t we bed down in a tunnel that has a dead end?”

  Tolly shook his head, his expression firm in the glow of the lantern. “You don’t never stay fo’ hours on end in a place wit’ only one way out. What if the earth was to shake an’ rocks to come down? Then you’d be trapped. Nossuh, we’s stayin’ right here. We’ll lay ourselves in a circle wit’ our supplies in the middle. Somebody’ll hafta step ovuh one o’ us to git to the torches an’ things.” He waggled his white eyebrows. “Somebody goes to steppin’ ovuh you, Devlin, you jus’ let out a holluh. Me an’ Lee’ll tackle him to the ground.”

  Lee grinned as if savoring the idea.

  Devlin clamped his lips tight. Tolly’s attempt to make light of his fears aggravated him more than assured him.

  Tolly tapped Devlin’s knee with the toe of his boot. “ ’Nough o’ that frettin’ now, boy. Lemme tell you what my mammy taught me to think on when I’s feelin’ scairt o’ somethin’. Comes from the Bible, book called Fuhst Petuh, an’ says to cast all our cares on Him, ’cause He cares fo’ us.” Tolly smiled, a serene glimmer entering his dark eyes. “Yessuh, the God Almighty, He knows where we is, an’ He can see even through the dark. So hand off yo’ worries to Him, Devlin, ’stead o’ stewin’ on ’em. You’ll rest a lot easier when we put out the lantern fo’ sleep.”

  Tolly and Lee began planning the route they’d take out of the cave when they’d finished sleeping. Devlin picked up an oatmeal cookie and nibbled its edges. He worked his way slowly to the center and finished it with one bite. Then he ate a second one. But the presence of the hearty cookies didn’t dispel even an ounce of the worry settling in his belly.

  Rebekah

  Fear tried to grab Rebekah as she made her way through the early-morning shadows to the mouth of Mammoth Cave. The sky in the east was casting off its dark gray and easing into a soft pink, but no fingers of sunlight stretched over the trees, and the chill air nipped at her exposed ears.

  She tugged Great-Granddaddy’s hat down more snugly and crisscrossed her arms over her jacket front. When would the estate trustee finally put the hired guards to work monitoring the opening? All the guides were fussing about the added duty. With Tolly away, she feared they might decide to ignore the schedule he’d given them. She was tempted herself. Even though she carried a shotgun, creeping through the predawn gloom by herself left her edgy. She’d rather stay in her cabin until the sun made its appearance.

  A twig snapped somewhere in the trees, and she froze in place, her pulse scampering into double beats. Moments later, a shadowy figure emerged from the trees. Rebekah released a yelp of alarm and swung the shotgun barrel in the direction of the gray shape. “Who’s there?”

  “Rebekah Hardin, put that thing down before you hurt somebody.”

  She nearly collapsed with relief. She lowered the gun and glared when Calvin Adwell stepped completely onto the road. “Cal, what are you doing sneaking around out here?”

  He grinned, the slash of his teeth ominous in the dim light. “I reckon I could ask you the same thing.” His gaze roved up and down her frame. “Took me a minute to figure out it was you. Why’re you wearin’ your daddy’s duds?”

  She set her feet in motion again, chagrined when he ambled alongside her. “These aren’t my daddy’s clothes. They’re mine. And I’m wearing them because I’m working as a guide here at the cave. Dresses aren’t exactly suited to taking groups of people through the tunnels.”

  Cal threw back his head and laughed. “You must be joshin’ me! I heard tell you’d took up workin’ for the estate, but I figured as a maid or a washerwoman. You’re really guidin’ folks in an’ out?”

  She glared at him, stung more than she wanted to admit by his condescension. “Yes, I am, and as well as any man, I might add.”

  He held up his hands as if surrendering. “All right, all right, no need to get testy. Just hard for me to think o’ my favorite gal doin’ anything like a man, you bein’ so sweet an’ womanly.”

  Hadn’t she made it clear to Cal she wasn’t his gal? And she never would be. Feelings didn’t ignite when he came around. At least, not the kind she pined for. Her heart seemed to save those feelings for somebody she could never have. “Cal, you didn’t answer me. What are you doing on the estate property this early in the day?”

  “Word’s out they’re hirin’ guards. I wanted to get in before anybody else, let the big boss know I’m available.”

  “I thought you were putting in your own crop.” At least that’s what he’d told her when he asked to court her. He claimed he’d be able to provide for her since his daddy’d given him a section of ground.

  Cal made a face. “Aw, diggin’ in the dirt ain’t for me, Rebekah. I got higher ambitions.”

  More than likely he thought guarding would be less laborious than farming. But she wouldn’t offend him by saying so. They were childhood friends, after all, and their families were neighbors. She stopped and touched his coat sleeve. “I hate to tell you, but enough guards have already been hired. They’ll start when the summer season begins.”

  “Oh.” He scratched his chin, the scrape of his nails loud against his coarse whiskers. “Well, what about other jobs? Maybe I could do some guidin’, huh?”

  “No. Those positions are filled, too.”

  For a moment he stared down at her, his forehead puckered and his lips pulled to the side in a strange grimace. “You thinkin’ on quittin’ anytime soon?”

  She shook her head.

  He snorted. “Maybe you oughta. Gal like you, gettin’ up in years, prob’ly should be huntin’ a husband ’stead o’ spendin’ her days dressed up like some ol’ scarecrow an’ traipsin’ in an’ out o’ caves.”

  Had she really wanted to spare his feelings? Anger rolled through her chest, and she opened her mouth to let it spill out.

  “Who’s out there?”

  Apparently the guide watching from three to six had heard them talking. Rebekah called, “It’s just me, Belvy, and a man from Good Spring.”

  Belvy melted from the shadows, his gun drawn. “Next time holluh out, Reb. I near shot fuhst an’ questioned latuh.”

  Cal curled his upper lip. “You’d ’ve been in a heap o’ trouble if you’d taken a shot at me.”

  Rebekah aimed a scowl at Cal. Why was he being so difficult? Belvy was only doing his job. Cal was the trespasser.

&nbs
p; Belvy barely glanced at Cal. “Reb, you ready to take ovuh?”

  “Yes.” The pink spread higher, giving her a better look at Cal’s glower and Belvy’s relaxed grin. “Did you have a quiet night?”

  “Been quiet as sleepin’ doves since I got on. Not so much as a raccoon tried to sneak in.”

  Cal bounced a frown over both of them. “I thought you said guards weren’t goin’ on duty until the summer season started.”

  Rebekah sighed. “They’re not. But until then, we guides are taking turns keeping trespassers from entering the cave. And it’s my turn to guard, so good-bye, Cal.”

  He didn’t budge.

  Belvy leaned closer to Rebekah. “Want me to stay ’round fo’ a bit, Reb? I don’ min’.”

  Cal’s scowl deepened.

  She appreciated Belvy’s concern, but it wasn’t necessary. Cal talked big, but he’d never hurt anybody. Especially her. “I’ll be fine, thank you. Go get some rest.”

  “Hmm, well, all right, Reb. See you at dinnuhtime.” He sauntered up the road, occasionally sending frowns over his shoulder.

  Cal scowled after him. “You’re keepin’ some strange company these days, Rebekah.”

  She made her way to a large rock near the cave’s yawning entrance and sat. She rested the shotgun across her knees. “Go home, Cal.”

  “So you’re really guarding this place every mornin’ at six all by yourself?”

  She patted the shotgun. “I’m not alone.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “You’re somethin’ else, Rebekah. If you hear of any jobs at the estate, would you send word?”

  “Sure, Cal. Bye now.”

  He gazed at her for a few tense, silent seconds. Then finally he strode up the road, muttering.

  Devlin

  Sunlight, brighter than a hundred Edison light bulbs, attacked Devlin’s eyes as he climbed the final slope to exit the cave. He grimaced and lifted his satchel to shield his face. Tolly and Lee blinked, too, their eyes squinted to slits. For a moment, Devlin gazed at the two men, puzzled. They’d been in and out of the cave hundreds of times, emerged from the darkness into the light hundreds of times, and still the light affected them. He didn’t know why he’d expected them to be impervious to the sudden onslaught of light, but their response to the brightness startled him.