The Christmas Cave

by David R. Beshears

  “Bill. I’m—”

  “A long time ago. Long, long time ago.”

  They sat quietly then, each in his own thoughts.

  Voices then, from outside the shack…

  §

  Jack, Amanda and Daniel stood looking across the landing as Tom stepped onto the ledge. Olivia and Jenny came up behind him, stepped up beside him. Seeing the children, Olivia rushed forward.

  “Jack! Amanda!” She wrapped her arms around them. “Oh, my! Oh, my!”

  “Hey, Mom,” said Jack.

  Olivia pulled away, looked over at Daniel. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Your parents are so worried.”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Harper.” He took a moment to endure a quick hug from Mrs. Harper. “I feel really good, actually.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” She looked again at Jack and Amanda. “Oh, you two are so grounded.”

  Mike and Bill came out of the shack. Olivia wasn’t surprised at all. She pulled the children aside, opening the view between Bill and Jenny. She smiled warmly at Jenny.

  Jenny approached her long, lost brother. Bill haltingly approached his sister.

  They held each other for the first time in more than fifty years.

  §

  Jack and Amanda sat on the edge of the landing, legs dangling over the side, looking out across the cavern. Behind them, Tom and Olivia walked casually across the ledge from the direction of the trailhead.

  Amanda leaned forward, looked straight down below them. She could see Mike, Bill and Jenny walking along the base of the cliff far below, at the river’s edge.

  Jack glanced at Amanda, looked down at what Amanda was looking at.

  “They’re just like kids,” he noted, smiling.

  “They were just kids the last time they were all together,” said Amanda.

  Jack gave a light chuckle before turning serious. “Did you see Grandma when they first saw each other? I’ve never seen her cry before.”

  “She is one tough lady, I’m here to tell ya’.”

  “Heck of a reunion,” said Amanda after a long time.

  §

  Behind them, Tom and Olivia continued their stroll, nearing the shack. Tom nodded in the direction of the kids.

  “Just look at ‘em, Liv. You’d think we were at a picnic.

  “Some picnic.” She let out a long breath, and there was a tremor in her words. “I was so worried.”

  “Yes, but we found them. And they’re safe.” He admired the scene around them. “And think of it. Just consider where we are.”

  “Consider just a little bit further, Tom.” Olivia’s words were cool now. Cool and precise. “We found the children. We found Bill. And yes, we found the Christmas Cave. It is amazing. I agree. It is all so amazing.”

  “It sure is.”

  “Yes. Now, how do we get home?”

  “Well…” Tom falteringly waved a hand toward the opposite side of the cave, doubt already forming in his mind. “We go out the same way we came in.”

  “Tom… do you really think it’s going to be that simple?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Really. Then explain to me why Bill has been here for fifty years.”

  Tom curled a brow, frowned. A long moment of uncertainty hung in the air.

  “I don’t know,” he said at last. It took him another few moments to regain some sense of composure and confidence. “But I do know this. I am having Christmas dinner in the house I grew up in. And I’m having peach cobbler for desert.”

  §

  Mike, Bill and Jenny walked slowly along the riverbank near the Rainbow Bridge. The stones woven into the rope sparkled.

  Jenny took it all in; the river, the bridge, the walls and the domed ceiling.

  “It’s all so beautiful, Bill. I can see why that boy called it the Christmas Cave, so long ago.”

  “You’re seeing it at its best, Jen. It’ll lose some when the river dies back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It only runs like this nine days a year,” said Bill. “Rest of the time it’s not much more than a trickle.”

  Mike stopped, studied the river. The others stopped and watch him. After what seemed like half a minute or more, Mike crossed his arms and frowned thoughtfully.

  “What happens then?” he asked, his attention still on the river.

  “The colors fade some. They don’t go away, but the cave goes dim.”

  Jenny moved to the river’s edge and knelt down. She dipped a hand into the water.

  There was an immediate reaction. The water washing about her hand glittered and sparkled ever brighter. Her fingers shimmered and glowed.

  She slowly lifted her hand out of the river. The water streamed off her hand and fingers. Jenny stood again, rubbed her fingertips together.

  “Feels great, doesn’t it?” asked Bill.

  “Most curious.” She curled her brow then and looked at Bill. “The cave goes dark?”

  “Nah. There’s enough that it’s still day in here. Just loses some of the sparkle.”

  Mike continued to look out at the flowing water. “How much does the river go down?”

  “Like I said, in a few days, it’ll be a trickle.” He looked up at the sparkling colors set into the walls, seemingly unconcerned. “The Old Man said the rocks in the walls react to something in the water. Minerals…” he shrugged. “Somethin’. Don’t know if it’s true. The Old Man got things wrong, and he had some weird superstitions.”

  “I expect in this he was right,” said Mike. “Nine days?”

  “Yep. Doesn’t always start the same day each year, but always runs exactly nine days.”

  “How can you be so sure, Bill?” asked Jenny. “Without the sun?”

  Bill grinned and brought out a pocket watch, held it up for the others to see. It was very old and very worn.

  “Belonged to the Old Man,” he stated with some satisfaction. “All these years, it still keeps good time.”

  “I see,” Jenny cradled it a moment in her palm before handing it back.

  “At least, I think it does.” Bill put the watch away. “It could be completely wrong, I suppose. Couldn’t it? How would I know for sure?”

  They continued downriver then, came upon Daniel sitting on the bank. He had a bamboo rod in hand, a line in the water. He looked relaxed, content. He glanced up once at their approach, focused again on the river before him, the line in the water.

  “How’s the fishing, Daniel?” asked Jenny.

  “Had a few nibbles.”

  “That rod’s always done me right,” said Bill.

  “Appreciate the use, Bill.” Daniel lifted it a few inches, let it settle gently back into position. “Comfortable feel. Good balance.”

  “That it does,” said Bill.

  Jenny looked further downstream, to where the river met the wall far in the distance. The trail they were on would take them to an opening in the wall to the left of where the river disappeared.

  “Bill? Where does that go?”

  “Ah! Yes. I’ll show you. Let’s get the others.” Bill spoke again to Daniel. “Kid, do I have a fishing hole for you. Yes I do.”

  §

  Bill led the way as the entire group followed the trail along the bank of the river. Daniel had the fishing rod resting on his shoulder.

  They approached the wall. Beside them, the river churned noisily as it rushed against the wall and coursed through an unseen underground waterway.

  Bill led them through a narrow opening. They stepped into a cavern that was quite a bit larger than the one they had just left, and onto the shore of a large lake. Away from the beach, the walls enclosing the lake rose up from the water to a domed ceiling several hundred feet above them.

  “Holy cow,” said Jack.

  “Yes,” Bill said proudly. “Holy cow.”

  The shore they were standing on stretched away in both directions for forty or fifty feet, bordered on either side by forests of colorless bamboo-like
plants that stood twelve feet tall.

  Mike took another step closer to the lake.

  “This where you get your food?” he asked.

  “Mostly.”

  Daniel’s face lit up. “Trout?”

  “Not trout, but not too bad. And there are plants in there that taste okay.” Bill indicated a permanent campsite established off to their left, just inside the bamboo stand. He started toward it. “Here, look at this.”

  There was a fire pit, a handwoven chair and a small table. Toward the back were a number of woven bins. Bill stepped over to a large stack of four-inch thick logs made of dried, twisted paper-like material, the color of chocolate, each about a foot long.

  “I make firewood from one of the plants that grows in the lake.” He picked up one of the logs and handed it to Mike. “I cut the plants into strips, then twist a bunch of them together and dry ‘em. They burn pretty good.”

  “Very nice,” said Mike.

  “The Old Man was makin’ ‘em long before I came along,” Bill said with a shrug. He pointed to a different colored strip in the homemade log that Mike was holding. “This is my contribution. I put strands of this into the logs that I use to smoke the fish. It adds a real nice flavor.”

  Jenny admired the campsite. “It looks like you spend a lot of your time here, Bill. But then, you always did enjoy camping.”

  “Yeah, well, what with fishing, harvesting plants, smoking the fish, making logs, making clothes,” he grinned then, “bathing…”

  “You’ve done well for yourself, Bill,” said Tom.

  “Thanks. I do—”

  A sudden tremor shook the ground beneath them. It set the surface of the lake to rippling. Several rocks came loose from the ceiling high above and splashed into the lake a ways off shore.

  The earthquake slowly subsided.

  “Wow,” said Amanda.

  “My words exactly,” said Jack.

  “Oh, my,” said Olivia.

  “Geez, Bill,” said Jenny. “Do you get a lot of that?”

  “Some,” Bill said matter-of-factly. “More lately.”

  Mike nodded. “I used to see them in the caves now and then, but last time had to have been a year or more ago.”

  “Get ‘em more often than that here. Especially the last couple a’ years.”

  “Really? I never feel them at the house,” said Jenny.

  “Interesting,” Mike said thoughtfully.

  “Peculiar,” said Tom.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” asked Olivia.

  “You have to wonder where the quakes are coming from,” Tom said, pondering.

  “Here, I would think,” said Olivia. “In the mountain.”

  “Mike hasn’t felt a quake in the caves for a year.”

  It was becoming just a bit clearer to Jenny. “What makes you think the Christmas Cave is in the mountain, dear?” she asked.

  “I would think that would be obvious, Mom.”

  “I’m sorry, but no, it isn’t. Not really. Not any more.”

  “The Old Man,” said Amanda, realization dawning. She turned to her mom. “The Old Man didn’t come here through the caves.”

  “Of course,” said Olivia.

  “Okay,” Tom continued to sort it through. “But if the quakes originate in the Christmas Cave, and then radiate out through the gateway—”

  “Perhaps through every gateway,” Jenny stated.

  “How many do you think there are, Grandma?” asked Amanda.

  “There are at least two. But there can’t be many.” When the others looked curiously at her, she said casually, “Well, if there were, Bill would have had a lot more company.”

  The others then turned to Bill.

  “Nope,” he said. “Nobody since the Old Man.”

  Chapter Eight

  Tom and Olivia sat near the fire pit in the center of Bill’s permanent, lakeside campsite. They were each using several artificial logs as makeshift seats. Jack and Amanda were exploring the nearby stand of bamboo, and Mike and Bill were walking along the lake shore in the distance, coming toward the camp but still a ways off.

  Jenny stepped up beside Daniel, sitting at the bank of the lake, fishing rod in hand.

  “It’s quite pleasant here,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Real nice.”

  “Healthy for the soul, I’d say.”

  “I suppose I’d say the same,” said Daniel.

  Jenny maneuvered herself about and sat down. She brushed her pants and rested her arms on her knees.

  “Good to see you have a bit of your color back,” she said.

  “I’m feeling pretty good.”

  “That’s good to hear. Your parents were worried about you. Rather desperate to get your medicines to you.”

  Daniel reached into his shirt pocket. He opened his palm to Jenny, showed her three pills. He stuffed them back into his pocket. They were from a day several weeks earlier, the last time he’d skipped his meds. He kept them on hand, just in case.

  “I see,” said Jenny. “You may not think you need them, but you should take them nonetheless.”

  “I’ve never felt better.”

  “Doctor’s orders.”

  “I mean, I really have never, ever felt better.”

  “Yes,” Jenny said hesitantly. She grew thoughtful, finally gave a nod and a knowing smile. “I know what you mean. There is something about this place. Isn’t there?”

  “I’m sure of it, Mrs. Harper. There’s somethin’ here. This place does something.”

  Jenny looked out at the lake, at the ceiling overhead. She leaned near Daniel.

  “My boy, I have been thinking on those very same lines myself.” She looked thoughtfully around them. She looked out at the lake, at the ceiling overhead. “I haven’t had a spell since we got here.” She tapped a finger to her temple. “Not a one.”

  §

  Up at the campsite behind them, Tom and Olivia watched Jenny and the boy.

  “Your mother looks better than she has in a long time,” said Olivia.

  “Finding her brother after all these years must have been a real shot in the arm.”

  Jenny and Daniel stood up as Bill and Mike approached. Jenny placed a hand on Bill’s arm. They were animated, even playful.

  “Look at ‘em, Liv,” said Tom. “What better medicine? Like a Christmas miracle.”

  “Maybe…” Olivia was doubtful. It had to be more than just finding Bill. There had to be something else.

  §

  Jack and Amanda relaxed in a small pool that was fed by a thin rivulet of water coming from the lake. The stand of bamboo separated them from the campsite.

  Jack had his shirt off, Amanda was in her undershirt.

  Jack leaned back, his elbows propped up behind him on the bank.

  “A fella could get used to this. I may just move here for good.”

  “Mom may have something to say about that,” said Amanda.

  Jack laid his head back and closed his eyes. There was a slight smirk on his face. “Comes to Mom, it’s all in how ya’ bring up the issue.”

  He enjoyed the moment, which slowly stretched into an uncomfortable silence.

  He heard his sister then…

  “Hey, Jack?”

  “Yeah?” He brought his head forward and opened his eyes.

  A tall, long-legged bird stood on the bank opposite. It looked a lot like a flamingo, long neck and thin, spindly legs, but its feathers were solid white.

  It looked curiously down at Jack and Amanda. It turned its head and let out a soft “raaack?”

  “Uh, hello?” mumbled Jack.

  The bird let out a second “raaack.”

  “Is it talking to us?” asked Amanda.

  The bird opened and closed it beak several times.

  “Well…” Jack studied the bird. “It’s either welcoming us to the neighborhood, or telling us to get out of its pool.”

  A second bird circled overhead, came in with wings spread
wide. It glided down, flapped its wings several times and settled into the center of the small pool.

  There was a slight splash as it adjusted its position on the pool’s surface.

  The bird looked from Amanda to Jack.

  The first bird, standing on the bank, lifted itself into the air and dropped down into the pool beside its companion.

  “Oh!” Amanda called out. “Look!”

  A third bird appeared suddenly on the bank, and then another.

  Within moments Jack and Amanda found themselves in the midst of a flock of six great white birds. One remained on the bank, but the others joined them in the pool.

  They appeared to be friendly, and were not at all frightened by the two human strangers. They swam about the pool, relaxing, grooming, exchanging occasional beak touches with one another.

  Jack relaxed.

  “Like I said, I could get used to this.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Amanda agreed. She leaned her head forward as one of the birds stretched its neck to get a better look at her.

  The bird gave her another “raaack!”

  Amanda laughed and Jack joined her.

  §

  Jenny walked up from the lake’s edge to Tom and Olivia, leaving Daniel to his fishing, Mike and Bill beside the boy.

  “Mike has a theory that we need to think on,” she said.

  “Is everything all right?” asked Olivia.

  “Mike figures the access to the cave is only open for a few days each year.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It has to do with the flow of the river. The same chemical reaction that generates the light show each year also creates the portal.”

  “So then, when the light show stops, the portal closes?” asked Tom.

  “The —whatever it is— dissipates, and so the window dissipates.”

  “But this is good,” said Olivia. “It means this isn’t a one way trip. We can go back. We can go home.”

  “So long as the river is flowing, the power is turned on. So long as the power is turned on, the door is open.”

  “But Bill has been here for decades,” Tom wondered. “Wouldn’t he have figured it out?”

  Bill and Mike came up beside them.

  “I searched that cliff hundreds of times the first few months,” said Bill. “There was no way back. I assumed there was no way back.”