Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  The torch lit up Tolly’s face and showed his big smile, and then he was laughing. “Now what’re all you cryin’ fo’?” He wedged the torch into a little crack in the wall, then stood grinning at her.

  Cissy couldn’t stop blubbering. She jerked loose from Nick and burrowed into Tolly’s shirt front. “I was so scared. I thought for sure we was gonna die in here an’ get put under the ground forever.”

  Tolly’s chest rumbled with his chuckle. “Dyin’ ain’t nothin’ to fear when heaven’s waitin’.”

  “Heaven ain’t waitin’ for me.” Cissy held Tolly’s jacket in her fists and used it to cover her face. “If I came to those pearly gates, they’d shut ’em an’ tell me to go away.”

  “How come?”

  “ ’Cause I’m not a good girl like my sisters.”

  He pulled her loose but kept hold of her arms. “Now that’s the silliest thing I evuh done heard, an’ lemme tell you, I heard plenty o’ silliness in my life. Ain’t nobody walkin’ around on this earth who’s good enough. We don’t gotta be good. We just gotta be fo’given.”

  Cissy’s chin wobbled. “I ain’t forgiven, neither.”

  “Why not?”

  “I…I ain’t never asked.”

  “Well, then, maybe you oughta.”

  Yes, maybe she ought to. She rubbed her eyes and then her nose. She sniffed hard.

  Tolly patted her shoulder. “You done wit’ that fo’ now?”

  For now. But she needed to do some thinking. She nodded.

  “All right then, lemme give you a look-ovuh, see if you’s all right.”

  Cissy stood still, sniffling, while he examined her and then Nick. When he was done, he put his hands on his hips and shook his head at them.

  “A few scrapes an’ bruises, an’ yo’ mamas’re gonna have a time gettin’ them clothes clean again, but all things considered, you look mighty fine. You hungry?”

  Nick nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Cissy’s stomach was spinning. “I just wanna go home.” Once she got there, she’d never leave again. That is, if Mama and Daddy would let her come home. After all her shenanigans, they might figure they’d rather not put up with her anymore. Tears threatened.

  Tolly unhooked canteens from his shoulders and handed them over. “We’ll getcha home, but it be a long walk to the entrance, an’ you’s gonna need yo’ strength. Take yo’selves a drink to start. Now sip it slow.”

  The cool water felt so good on her throat. She tipped the canteen upside down to hurry the flow.

  “Here now. Di’n’t I say sip slow? Don’t do no guzzlin’, or you’s likely to give it back.”

  Cissy lowered the canteen and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Sorry, Tolly. But that’s the sweetest water I’ve ever tasted.”

  Nick must have thought so, too, because he raised his canteen again and again.

  “How ’bout a san’wich?”

  Nick nodded eagerly. “Yes. That sounds fine.”

  Tolly opened his pack and began digging around. “Once you’ve done ate a san’wich, Nick, I’d be obliged if you’d carry that blanket back out.”

  Nick gave a start. “What blanket?”

  Cissy shook her head. “We don’t have no blanket, Tolly. All we brought with us was Devlin’s map.” She searched the ground around them. “Where’d it go?” Her gaze fell on a moth-eaten blanket lying close to the wall. Chills broke over her. “That blanket…it wasn’t here when we laid down to rest.”

  Tolly frowned at her. “You sure?”

  Nick nodded. “We only brought a map. Cissy had a hold of it when she fell asleep, but there wasn’t any blanket. We would have used it. It’s cold in here.”

  “Then where…” Tolly’s gaze roved the area, his brow all crunched.

  When she woke up, she’d felt something slide off her. It must have been the blanket. Which meant somebody had come up on them while they were asleep and put that blanket on her. Her body went cold, then hot, then cold again. She started to shiver.

  Tolly shrugged, the motion stiff. “Well, now, ain’t that a puzzle. We’ll take it out anyway. It don’t belong down here.” He pushed napkin-wrapped packages toward them. He smiled, but it looked weak. “Eat these san’wiches now. When you’s done, I’ll get you two out o’ here.”

  Cissy ignored the sandwich. “Without Devlin’s map? He’s gonna be madder’n mad if I don’t bring it back to him.”

  “Girl, I cain’t be worryin’ ovuh no piece o’ papuh when—” He closed his lips tight. His nostrils flared and his eyes closed. Then he opened his eyes. “Hurry an’ eat. Yo’ mamas are eager to see you again.”

  Cissy’s heart ignited with hope. “My mama?”

  Tolly frowned. “ ’Course yo’ mama. An’ yo’ daddy, too.”

  She grabbed a sandwich. “I’ll hurry, Tolly.”

  Tolly

  Tolly paced while Cissy and Nick ate two sandwiches each and drank more from the canteens. As tired as he was, he ought to be sitting, resting up for the trek out, but he couldn’t sit still. An uneasy feeling had hold of him. Something wasn’t right. He wanted to get these two out as quickly as he could.

  “We’re all done, Tolly.” Cissy brought him the crumpled napkins. “Can we go now?”

  He nodded, urgency making his movements jerky. “Shove them napkins in my pack. Nick, toss that blanket ovuh yo’ shoulduh an’ take the torch now—gonna let you carry it.” His hands were shaking. He might drop it. “Stay right close to me now, both o’ you, y’hear?” He shrugged the food pack onto his back, grunting a bit as the weight bit into his shoulders. He looped the rope over his arm and aimed a wobbly grin at the pair. “All right. Let’s go.”

  With the torch behind him, his shadow led the way. He followed the line of his rope to the place where the Y began, and then he stopped so suddenly that Cissy bumped into him. He flapped his hand toward the youngsters. “Nick, gimme that torch.”

  The boy handed it over, and Tolly swept it from side to side, his heart thudding worse than natives pounding on war drums.

  “What’s wrong, Tolly?” Cissy sounded fretful.

  If he told her, she’d have good reason to be afraid. “Nothin’, girl. Just thinkin’ fo’ a minute is all.”

  But no amount of thinking would answer the questions roaring through his mind. His big pack—the one with all the torches—wasn’t where he’d left it. And the end of the rope, cut clean through with a knife, now curled around the corner into the opening of the second tunnel. Drag marks—from his pack?—marred the dirt floor.

  “Here, boy.” He gave Nick the torch again and then picked up the fraying end of the rope and slowly wound it into a coil on his arm. The two torches he’d carried with him wouldn’t be enough to take them all the way out of the cave. He searched his mind for a shorter way of reaching the entry. Whether tiredness stole it from him or it didn’t exist, he couldn’t say for sure, but he couldn’t think of a shortcut.

  All right, Lawd, what’m I s’posed to do now? ’Less You gimme a miracle, make these last two torches burn longuh’n any of ’em have evuh burned befo’, all three o’ us is gonna be lost in the dark soon.

  A gentle breeze eased through the tunnel, making the fire at the end of the torch perform a short dance. Tolly stared at the flickering flame, frowning. How’d wind get into the cave? He jerked his face toward the breeze. Just a whisper, but it was there. Far ahead in the tunnel, a tiny pinprick of light glimmered and then dimmed. A mournful groan filled his ears. Or maybe filled his soul. Chills broke out all over him.

  Nick stepped close to Tolly, so close the heat from the torch scorched his cheek. “Which way?”

  I’s trustin’ You, Lawd. Tolly took the torch and pointed at the left-hand branch of the Y. “This way. Stay close.”

  Devlin

  Devlin helped the hotel cook hand out sandwiches and cookies for the second time that day to the folks scattered on the grassy rise outside the cave opening. He hoped the contents of the baskets would str
etch to serve everyone at this dinner hour.

  As the day had progressed, more and more people arrived until they stretched all the way to the road and reached the edge of the woods. It seemed the entire hollow and half of the hotel’s guests now waited for Tolly, Cissy, and Nick to emerge from the cave. And only a handful of people had brought food with them.

  Brother Neville sat near the right side of the entry with the Rosses, who slumped on chairs carried out by hotel staff members. Preacher Haynes joined the Hardins on the left, all of them crowded together on the quilt Rebekah had retrieved from her bed in her cabin. Two camps had formed—the hills folks clustered around the Hardins and the hotel guests around the Rosses. Those in the Hardin camp brought quilts and settled themselves on the colorful squares the way people did for picnics. Hotel guests stood on the grass or sat in the transport wagons that the guides had parked under the trees.

  Children—a mix of hills and hotel youngsters—chased each other up and down the road or through the trees, their laughter ringing until adults intervened and hushed them. Their play stopped for a short amount of time and then began again. Devlin ducked aside when two little boys raced by. Why didn’t someone take the whole lot of youngsters to the grassy area behind the hotel cottages and organize games for them? They were creating tension with their unconcerned behavior, but expecting them to simply sit for hours on end seemed unreasonable.

  He handed the last of the food to a group near the road, then carried the empty basket to Mr. Cooper. “Did everyone get something to eat?”

  “Everyone who wanted something.” The cook heaved a sigh. “I don’t know the Rosses at all, but the Hardins are good people. They don’t deserve this worry. I wish there was more I could do.”

  “You’ve done plenty by keeping them fed out here, but if you’d like a suggestion…”

  “What’s that?”

  Devlin shared his idea about taking the children elsewhere for activities.

  Mr. Cooper nodded. “I’ll get some of the dining room staff together and send them down for the youngsters. I don’t need all of them in the dining room anyway with most of the guests here at the cave.”

  “Thanks.” Devlin gave the big man a pat on the shoulder.

  “You’re welcome. At times like this a fellow needs to feel useful.” The cook offered a sad smile, then ambled off, his head low.

  Devlin made his way through the throng to the Hardins. As a hotel guest, he probably belonged in the Rosses’ camp, but he couldn’t stay away from Reb’s family. Just as he’d witnessed a dozen times over the last, long hours, Reb’s parents and the preacher bowed with their heads close together, their eyes closed and lips moving. Praying. Devlin didn’t know a lot about prayer, but he couldn’t resist adding his own.

  Dear God, grant them their request.

  Reb sat opposite her parents. Her littlest sister slept in her arms, and the second youngest lay with her head on Reb’s leg, also sleeping. The other girls sat in a tight circle, fidgeting, whispering, flicking hopeful looks toward the opening and then slouching low again. His heart went out to all of them. Like Mr. Cooper, he wished he could do more to help.

  He crouched next to Reb. “Want me to take her? Your arms must be tired.”

  A weary smile creased her face. “They are. But I want to hold Nellie. The way I can’t hold Cissy right now.” Tears winked in her eyes, but she blinked several times, and the moisture cleared.

  If he couldn’t hold Little Nellie, he’d hold Reb. He slipped onto the grass behind her. “Lean on me then. It’ll help.”

  She hesitated, blinking at him uncertainly, but after a moment she relaxed against his chest. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t encircle her with his arms. Instead, he braced his palms on the grass, angled himself to better bear her weight, and sat quietly.

  Soon two wagons rattled down the hill, and the dining room’s servers invited the children to go to the hotel for games and refreshments. Parents released the restive youngsters with murmurs of thanks, and a relieved hush settled over the crowd.

  An hour crept by. Little Nellie and Trudy awakened from their naps grumpy and groggy, and Mr. Hardin asked Della to take her sisters up the hill to join the games. The girls left, the youngest ones eager and the older ones casting worried looks over their shoulders as they went.

  Reb continued to lean lightly against Devlin’s chest for several minutes after the girls departed, and for a moment he wondered if she had drifted off to sleep. After their sleepless night and long day, he wouldn’t blame her. But then she heaved a delicate sigh and stood.

  “Mama, Daddy, I’m going to walk up to the road and back—stretch my legs. All right?”

  The couple nodded in unison.

  Devlin started to rise, but Reb shook her head. “I need a few minutes alone, Devlin.”

  Disappointed, he sank back down. He watched her weave between the groups, pausing now and then apparently to answer questions. She reached the road and paced the distance of twenty yards up, back, and up again. With each step her spine grew straighter, her head higher, and by the time she made her way back to the quilt, she seemed to have thrown off a good portion of her weariness.

  As she settled beside him, he couldn’t resist asking, “Tapping into your Source of strength?”

  A smile curved her lips. It was answer enough.

  Another hour passed, and night birds began their soulful songs. The air cooled as the sun eased behind the trees. Mr. Cooper came down and announced to the parents that the children were in the hotel dining room enjoying a snack. He promised to keep them there, safe and entertained, until their folks were ready to retrieve them. “No matter how late the hour,” he finished before trudging back up the hill.

  “I hope the young uns don’t end up spendin’ the whole night in the dinin’ room,” a woman seated close to the Hardins said.

  The man sharing her quilt snorted. “Better up there than down here. ’Specially if Tolly don’t find ’em alive. The young uns shouldn’t oughta see—”

  “Shh!” the woman hissed but not before Mrs. Hardin’s face went white.

  Mr. Hardin pulled his wife close to his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, pressing her fist to her mouth. Their minister leaned in and spoke softly to them, and Reb scooted across the quilt to take her mother’s hand.

  Devlin remained a bit apart, wanting to offer some kind of comfort, but what? Helplessness weighed heavily on him. He clenched his fists, battling the urge to grab one of the lanterns burning at the edge of the entry and charge inside to find those young people himself.

  He started to rise, but a faint cry cut through the evening shadows and stopped him midmotion.

  “Mama!”

  Half the women in the gathering lifted their heads, searching the area.

  “Mama! Mama, Daddy!”

  The Hardins bolted upright. Rebekah leaped up and stood alert, her body quivering. All three of them turned their gazes toward the cave opening. Devlin stood, too, staring into the cave’s dark entry and searching for a glimmer of torchlight.

  People all across the lawn were sitting up or pushing to their feet, their murmurs forming a low rumble.

  “Mama! Daddy!”

  The voice was louder now, strangled as if emerging on a sob, but it wasn’t coming from the cave. Mr. and Mrs. Hardin scrambled to their feet, looking around with both hope and uncertainty etched into their features.

  Mrs. Hardin called out, “Cissy?”

  And Cissy burst from the bushes with Nick close behind her. They came to a startled halt, staring open mouthed at the crowd. Then a thunderous cheer rose, and the Rosses and Hardins raced across the ground to capture their children in hugs.

  The crowd surged forward, surrounding the happy families. Devlin got jostled along with the throng and pushed up tight against Reb’s back. The happiness exploding through him had to come out. He wrapped his arms around her middle from behind. She curled her arms over his, nestled her head into the curve of his neck,
and they rocked while laughter and chatter filled the air. Nell Hardin rained kisses on Cissy’s dirty face, and the girl clung to her parents as if she’d never let go.

  “Mama, Daddy, I’m so happy to see you. Can’t hardly believe you’re here after I was so wicked.” Cissy blubbered out the words, pressing her cheek to her mother’s neck and then her father’s chest. “I’m sorry. I love you, Daddy. I love you, Mama. Do you still love me?”

  Mr. Hardin caught Cissy’s tear-filled face between his hands and gazed down at her with tenderness. “No wrongdoin’ could make us not love you, gal. We’re your mama an’ daddy, an’ you’re our precious Cissy. We’ll always love you.”

  Joy exploded over the girl’s dirty face, and then she collapsed against her father again, weeping.

  Devlin battled the sting of tears as well. The reunion was so beautiful. It seemed that her time in the cave had awakened the light of repentance and squashed the dark blot of rebellion. He sensed Cissy’s attitude and behavior would be changed from now on.

  With the young people safely in their parents’ arms, the crowd began to thin. Devlin started to leave, too, to give the Hardins some privacy.

  Mr. Hardin said, “How’d you come to be in those bushes, gal?”

  Devlin’s pulse skipped a beat, and he turned back. Caught up in the cele-bration, he hadn’t realized the significance of their arrival from a place other than the cave’s entrance. He blurted a question. “Weren’t you in the cave?”

  Cissy nodded, her eyes wide. “Deep inside, with no lantern or nothin’.” She bit her lower lip for a moment, remorse glimmering in her eyes. “Used your map to take us in there.”

  He’d completely forgotten about the map.

  “An’ I lost it. You…you’ll have to start over again.”

  Oddly, the map wasn’t important anymore. He gave Cissy’s shoulder a pat. “That’s all right. I’m just happy you’re safe now.”