“This is,” Christopher said as he took a step into the water that barely reached the top of his ankles. He walked a few steps in and reached for Alena, he pulled her in and set her on dry land in the large opening chamber of the cavern.
He took a step out of the water and onto the dusty cave floor. He sat down for a moment, his back resting against the rough wall.
“The girl you are named after…” Christopher began as he pointed the flashlight to top of the low ceiling and illuminated some old faded drawings. “She used to play here.”
“It’s pretty here,” Alena softly said as she ran her hand against the wall. She found a small rock and tossed it into the large pool that filled the chamber and watched as the ripples played against the surface of the crystal clear water.
“The Native Americans who used to live here hundreds of years ago considered this place special, sacred.”
“Is this where you found the window?” Alena asked, she had a sense of urgency in her voice as though she wanted things to hurry along.
“It’s a bit further from here, we have to go down quite a bit,” Christopher said as he got to his feet and readied his flashlight once more. “Don’t let go of my hand for any reason once we’re inside.”
“Okay,” Alena said as she took her father’s hand, eager to move onward.
They began to inch their way into a passage as the water flowed beneath their feet. The way was slippery, so they took it very carefully and slowly. The air here was cool, a musty, and damp—yet somehow a comforting smell filled the air. They walked on further into the darkness until they came upon the split in the cave. Christopher shined his flashlight down into the abyssal drop of the course that the water followed. Below them, a great distance down, water cascaded and crashed against rocks. Through the mist that formed at the bottom, the beam of light illuminated the barely visible cave floor.
“That’s where your mother… and the other Alena fell from.”
“Mom’s… grandfather pushed Alena?”
“He kind of cornered her; scared her… and she fell.”
“Then what happened to mom here?” Alena asked as she peered down into the darkness and nervously clung to her father.
“I think that,” Christopher began, attempting to find the best way to explain why Kylie’s father had done the things he had done. “I’d guess that his part in hiding the body when he was young changed him. He chased his own daughter the same way that his father chased Alena. He even believed that she was Alena. I can’t explain it well… “
“What makes people do bad things like that?”
“I wish I knew, I never really understood it myself,” Christopher said as he turned the flashlight towards the passage to the right of the falls, the large spiraling passage that would lead them down to the very heart of the cavern. “It’s not much further now.”
Side by side they walked down the spiraling passage, Alena playfully attempted to dodge water droplets from the damp tunnel as they closed the distance as the passage opened up to the grand chamber. A pool of water formed beneath the high waterfall and the loud sound like a heavy rain-shower echoed through the wet air.
Christopher walked towards the familiar cave wall and ran his hand against the once smooth surface. To his surprise, a large crack had formed against the wall. He guided his flashlight up to find a series of cracks that formed from as high up as the light from his flashlight could reach. This was not here the last time.
“Looks like some kind of earthquake or something,” Christopher whispered as he ran his hand against the rough cracks in the wall.
“Kind of like the wall in the basement at the house,” Alena quietly said from behind him.
“You were in the basement?”
“Face wanted to go down there, he was scratching at the door—so while you were gone after breakfast we went down real quick and the wall was all cracked up there too,” Alena said as she placed her hand along the wall and followed one of the cracks with her fingers. “The kitchen counter is like that—cracked in places.”
“Allie,” Christopher spoke in a slightly stern voice,” Why didn’t you tell me you went down to the basement?”
“Because after that Face wanted to eat, and then he went up and slept on my bed, and then you came back.”
“You shouldn’t go down there by yourself, it’s dangerous.”
“Face was with me.”
“Just next time, let me know, okay?”
“Okay…”
Christopher continued to run his hand against the surface. He wondered if this would somehow change things—whether it is for the better or worse.
“Is this where the window was?” Alena asked as she traced out lines in the wall with the beam of her flashlight.
“Yeah,” Christopher said as he reached out for Alena’s hand. Once they were joined, he held his flashlight up and turned it around. He placed his hand on the power button and let his thumb linger upon it for a moment. “We just need to turn off our flashlights…”
“Okay,” Alena said as she turned hers off. “Then what happens?”
“Hopefully we see something,” Christopher said as he closed his eyes. He ran his thumb against the rubber button as his mind pleaded for something to actually happen. He needed this, for himself, for Alena. After all he had told her—he needed a miracle. He clicked off the light. He allowed seconds to pass, seconds that seemed like an eternity. He slowly opened his eyes.
“There’s nothing there,” Alena whispered as she let go of her father’s hand.
“Give it a little while,” Christopher said as he ran his hand along the stop that the window once existed so many years ago.
“All I see is darkness,” Alena said, her voice growing more annoyed and angry.
“Please, Allie, be patient.”
More time passed. The darkness remained. Christopher ran his hand, rubbing away at stone and searching for some kind of light. He was so sure. He needed this more than ever before. He could honestly not believe that there was nothing here.
“James…” Christopher whispered to the wall. “Please…”
A blinding light appeared.
Allie stood there with her fists clenched around her small flashlight. Her eyes were like narrow slits and her face was one of a mixture of pure disappointment and anger.
“It… It doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen,” Christopher pleaded as he still kept his flashlight off and turned his attention back to the wall.
“What the hell is wrong with you dad?” Alena growled as she tossed her flashlight to the floor, breaking the glass but the bulb remained intact and illuminated. “Why would you do this to me? Why did you make me believe...?”
“I promise,” Christopher said as he turned on his own light and pointed it to Alena who was in tears. “I promise that this is real…”
“Your promises aren’t worth shit!”
“Don’t talk like that…”
“You remember when you promised me that you’d get that day off to come and see me play soccer? Or that time you promised to take me to see that Captain America movie with that guy I like in it? Or how many times you promised mom that we’d go and spend the weekend at the Wildlife Prairie State Park that we loved so much—that we’d stay in that cottage up on the hill?”
“I know…” Christopher said as he placed a hand against the wall and hung his head down in shame. “I know I’ve done a lot of wrong. I can’t take any of that back. I wish I had kept any of those promises.”
“There were more, I could name more.”
“Please don’t,” Christopher whispered as he attempted to hug Alena.
“There’s something wrong with you, you never… you never were honest. You know what the difference between you and mom was? She never lied to me—she even defended you,” Alena said as she pushed him away. “Take me back to the house.”
“I’m so sorry Allie…”
“I don’t even want to talk to you,” Alena s
aid as she picked up her damaged flashlight and began to walk back up the spiraling passage.
“You have to be careful, let me lead.”
“I’m fine,” Alena said as she adamantly continued on.
They walked back in silence. Alena was at the age that Christopher could not understand nor relate to his own daughter. He did not know how to fix her—if such a thing was possible. She was no longer a child that could easily accept his stories, she was older, depressed, and growing more and more jaded. He wished that what she had said about breaking promises was untrue, or at the very least an over exaggeration. However, he could not even claim that small comfort. He was every bit as guilty as she had claimed.
The long walk home made him realize just how detached he had inadvertently allowed himself to be. All at once, he came to a depressing realization: it should have been him. For Alena’s sake—it should have been Christopher that died that day. Instead he was the one left with a daughter that he had no idea how to handle. He was angry once more, although he did not know if he had a right to be. After all, a lot of this was his fault.
Once home, Alena sat in front of the television. She refused dinner. Once darkness came she wordlessly walked up to her room taking Face with her and slammed the door shut. Christopher contemplated whether or not they should leave the next day. After all, this trip had thus far been a colossal failure. Then again, what was there to go back to? What would it fix?
Christopher ran his hand along a few cracks on the countertop. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed them before. He walked into the living room and opened up the basement door. He remembered the old damp smell and uncomfortable feeling. He had never grown a great love for basements. He walked down the creaky wooden stairs, ducking at the end to avoid hitting his head against a low hanging beam. He was much taller than he was when he was down here taking shelter from the tornado that passed through as a child.
He flipped on the light switch. As he made his way through the large room he came to the large wall at the far end. Just as Alena had said, the wall was filled with a multitude of fractures and cracks that spread out from the ceiling in a formation similar to roots of a great tree.
He wondered if the strange design was merely coincidence or, perhaps something more.
Chapter 3: Alena’s Cave
In my journey for rediscovery, I never thought I’d arm myself with such petty weapons such as frustration, regret, anger, and depression. Regardless, I found that is all I would allow myself to carry into the night.
Christopher grabbed his flashlight and headed out of the house. He felt as though there was some unfinished business left for him in the old cave. Even with the flashlight leading the way, his clouded and frustrated mind caused him to trip and stumble more than he should have. With a frantic pace he followed along the creek, at one point he was in the creek splashing through in his boots like a madman. Once he reached the cave entrance he slipped along the wet surface of the first slope downward bruising his hand and cutting his elbow. He did not allow this minor injury to impede his self-imposed task.
He was out of breath by the time he reached the wall where the window once stood. He paused for a moment to catch his breath as he rested his hands upon his knees. Once he had regained his composure he turned off his flashlight, allowing the darkness to overtake him.
He waited.
“Please…” Christopher pleaded to the cave wall once more.
He waited longer. In the darkness his mind flashed memories of what the window looked like, the unusual light, the first time his brother James went through, and his own short time that he got to spend with his parents that one last final sweet time. Was there no magic left in this world reserved for him?
“James…?”
“Alena…?”
In the damp, black cave Christopher waited. After nearly an hour passed he began to pace back and forth running his hand against the cracked surface.
“Kylie…?” Christopher whispered in one final, desperate attempt. “Please?”
“Someone please fucking answer me!” Christopher shouted. As his own words echoed through the air he grew even more upset. It was as though his own words were mocking him. He had gone through so much, he had lost his wife, quit his job—his daughter did not trust him, probably did not even like him. He did not even like himself. It was a vicious circle. Then once more he felt the frustration that there was nothing for him here.
“Am I not good enough?”
“Can’t I have some amount of comfort?”
Frustration grew further and further into anger. Christopher let out a guttural scream as he placed a forceful punch into the surface of the wall. He could feel warm blood running down his arm as he retracted in agony. He cried as the pain burned in his fist. He sat with his back against the wall and allowed himself to hit the back of his head against the surface a few times causing him even more pain.
Christopher began to cry out of sadness.
“Why couldn’t any of you have been here for me when I needed you?” He sobbed.
“This was supposed to fix things!” Christopher shouted as he got to his feet and turned his flashlight back on. He began to leave, turning back once to look at the blood stained wall fresh with paint of his own streaks of violent red. He shook his head in disgust as he ascended the spiral passage. As he reached the top he peered over the edge of the waterfall. For a moment he thought of allowing himself to fall over. After all, he had a pretty good life insurance package and Alena would be well cared for with someone less broken. He inched closer and closer. Perhaps, he could be with Kylie once more. For a moment, he thought that he could force James’s hand—that he would catch him and take him back to that place of memories. His mind was a flurry of desperate thoughts.
It would be impossible for him to say that he was not serious, that some part of him just wanted it to finally be over. Instead a small internal voice kept him at bay. He could not force Alena to go through the death of another parent. All at once, he realized how selfish his wish to escape this world ultimately was.
With a battered hand, and a few cuts and bruises, Christopher walked back to the house. Once there, he bandaged up his hand and searched through the cabinets. He found an old bottle of whiskey. He did not know how old the bottle was—at this point he cared very little. He poured himself a large glass and quickly drank the bitter brown liquid. He screwed his face up into a terrible scowl as the alcohol burned in his throat.
He climbed up the stairs and stood outside of Alena’s room. In a half drunken state he whispered, “I’m sorry…” He gave little pause as he expected no answer in return. He knew that she was still probably both very angry and upset with what did not happen that day.
He stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. His poor bandaging job stained the white sheets red in patches of blood. As exhaustion and inebriation kicked in, he finally fell into a deep dreamless slumber.
Chapter 4: Allie Visits the Old Cemetery
To me, death is the most painful part of life. Why must we endure such grief—such loss? What wrong did we inflict upon the world for it to curse us with the knowledge that everyone, everything, eventually dies?
The next day, Christopher awoke to the cacophony of the familiar morning birds that sounded like piercing needles against his throbbing head. He was not really a drinker—not even socially. Even after all these years, the memory of his parents dying at the hands of a drunk driver left him feeling a strange sense of guilt in the few times that he did choose to imbibe. He winced in pain as he put pressure on his right hand. He carefully undid his bandages, exposing his blackened scabbed knuckles that lied beneath the crimson blood stained cloth. It appeared as though he did no permanent damage. He gave his arm a once over noting a few minor scratches. As he dressed he noticed a large plum-colored bruise forming beneath his knee.
“You slept in today,” Alena said from the couch as she was in her usual position by the old black and white television.
“What time is it?” Christopher said as he rubbed his temples with his fingertips.
“A little after ten,” Alena said as she glanced over to her father. “Did you get into a fight?”
“I went back out there, into the cave. I kind of fell,” Christopher said as he attempted to hide the truth from Alena. “Anyway, do you want some breakfast?”
“I already made some oatmeal,” Alena responded as she looked away. “I’m sorry that I lost it with you like that yesterday.”
“It’s alright,” Christopher said as he pulled out some coffee from the tin and readied the machine. “I just wanted to show you something that I saw as a kid… I just wanted to share with you that magic that we all saw. I just wanted you to believe in something.”
“I believe that you believe in it,” Alena said as she continued to keep her gaze fixed away from her father’s. “That doesn’t necessarily make it real.”
“I know that you don’t believe because of what happened,” Christopher said as he let out a heavy sigh and placed his hands against the cracked countertop. “I know that I raised your hopes up—only to have nothing happen. But, I know that it happened.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m certain,” Christopher replied as he began to wash out the coffee mug from the day before.
“Sometimes people make up stories to deal with a bad memory—like how you said you found that girl that had gone missing, and your brother drowning. Sometimes, they want to believe in something so much that it becomes real to them.” Alena said as she looked across the room to her father and eyed him nervously, gauging him for some kind of reaction.
“This isn’t like that at all…”
“You remember when I thought I saw that ghost when I was little—when we first moved into that new house? I just saw a light on the wall…. It scared me so much that, when I would talk about it the light turned into something much more—a figure, something terrible. The more I tried to remember it, the more I believed it was something so much more different. Do you remember what it was?”
Window in the Earth Trilogy Page 50
