by Rick Hautala
Jenny, walking with Al several strides behind Marty and Cassie, gave a fluttery giggle that made Al hope she was thinking what he was thinking. Other than flirting with Jenny in study hall, this was the first time they’d spent any time together as a couple. Al liked to think she’d been after him all school year, and he had finally decided to do her the favor of asking her out to the caves with them. If she came-across—which meant he at least got a handful this afternoon—he just might hang on to her for the summer. With luck, he’d be tagging her in a week or two. The afternoon was warm, and both boys had stripped off their T-shirts, letting them dangle from the back pockets of their jeans. Al’s left bicep bore a crudely drawn, self-inflicted tattoo of a heart skewered by a knife. The pierced heart was supposed to look like it was bleeding, but the red splotches looked more like paint splatters.
“I just don’t like bugs and stuff,” Cassie said, her voice a high-pitched whine. As if to prove her point, she waved her free hand viciously at the blackflies swarming around her head.
“There ain’t any flies inside the caves,” Marty said. His grip on her hand tightened.
“No,” said Cassie. “There’s worse. There’s worms and snakes and slugs and stuff.”
“Oh come off it, will yah?” Jenny said. “You’re grossing me out.” She was happy just to have been invited, and she didn’t want anyone or anything to spoil it. Her eyes kept wandering down to the bulge in Al’s pants, and once or twice she unconsciously licked her lips.
“You wait and see,” Cassie said, tossing a quick glance at Jenny over her shoulder. “It’s wicked gross.”
“I’ve been to the caves before,” she said. “It’s fun.”
“They’ve never been as much fun as they’re gonna be today, huh Al?” Marty said. The two boys exchanged knowing smiles and then burst into laughter.
“No way, Jose.”
Up ahead, the woods thinned out, and through a screen of brush vibrant with new-growing green, they saw the inverted V of the entrance to the caves. It was now Cassie’s turn to tighten her grip on Marty’s hand; she had a bad feeling about this place...always had. Although the memories were no longer sharp, she thought she might have had some nightmares about the place when she was younger.
No one in Thornton knew how this place came to be called the Indian Caves. The most mundane answer was that, not so many years ago, a cub scout troop had hiked out to them, and one of the scouts had found a stone arrowhead on the ground. Other more exciting but perhaps less accurate stories suggested that very old human bones had been discovered out there. Some people even said the place was haunted, that the bones that had been found belonged to an accused witch from Colonial times who had been kidnapped by Indians and held captive out here until they had eaten her. Her restless spirit still lurked in the dank, narrow cave where she had died.
They crossed the clearing to the cave entrance. Marty went in first, ducking his head through the narrow opening. To Cassie, it looked as though he had suddenly lost his head, and she drew back, a low whimper escaping from her when she felt Marty tug at her to pull her inside with him. Al and Jenny were pressing her from behind, so she reluctantly went inside.
The air in the caves was about ten degrees cooler than outside. Both Al and Marty put their shirts back on as they crouched in the entryway. Cassie had let go of Marty’s hand and stood as close as she could to the opening without actually leaving the cave.
At least the front part of the caves showed evidence of plenty of activity. Every kid in town knew about the caves and came out here at least once in a while. Some of them, the younger kids, came out to play; older kids came here to party and “get it on.” Scattered on the hard-packed floor were candy wrappers, rusted beer and soda cans, and plenty of crushed cigarette butts, burned out matches, and the occasional used condom.
From the front or “main” room, as it was called, a low tunnel ran back and down at a steep angle. A large stone that someone, long ago, apparently had rolled into place blocked the opening. Like the origin of the name for the caves, there were also plenty of stories about kids and even a few adults who had squeezed in behind that rock and explored the depths of the cave. Reports of what they had found back there were varied, some of them too wild to believe. Supposedly, some people had never come out but the facts were few. All anyone looking behind the stone could see was a steadily declining and narrowing corridor that went back maybe fifteen or twenty feet before it curved to the left. It looked much too narrow for anyone to squeeze through.
“See, Cass?” Marty said as he flung himself down onto the hard-packed soil floor. “You’ve been complainin’ for nothin’.” He indicated the area with a wide sweep of his arm. “There ain’t a thing bad about this place. It ain’t damp or anything. It’s cozy. Maybe we ought to collect some wood and have a campfire to take off the chill.”
In the center of the floor was a crude half-ring of stones, the site of repeated campfires that had left behind a large pile of ash and several lumpy chunks of charred wood. The slanting rock ceiling funneled the smoke up and out of the cave and was blackened with soot. Over the years, kids had spray-painted and chiseled their names, initials, and the names of rock bands on all the walls. In the soot close to the door, a rough heart shape had been drawn encircling the words “Marty and Gail.” Cassie pretended not to notice.
“You want a fire?” Al asked, snickering. “I can go you one better.” Turning to the slanting stone wall, he reached behind the stone that blocked the tunnel. Pausing for dramatic effect, he withdrew a Shaw’s grocery bag, limp with moisture and placed it on the ground in front of them.
“I think I got just what you need,” Marty said. He was snickering too as he pulled a packet of E-Z Wider rolling papers from his jeans pocket. He balanced the pack on his index finger and flipped it, like a coin, over to Al.
“Hey, Jen,” Al said, smiling at Jenny and patting the ground beside him. “Have a seat and try to relax.”
Jenny gave Cassie a quick glance and then sat down, snuggling up to Al. Her hand came to rest on his upper thigh, but he seemed not to notice it as he spread open the grocery bag and withdrew its contents.
“Oh, my God!” Jenny exclaimed, unable to contain her surprise when she saw the bulky plastic bag packed with twisted, gray-green leaves and buds. “Where’d the fuck you get that?”
“Connections,” Al said with a smirk. He opened the plastic bag and, sticking his face into the opening, took a deep, noisy inhale. Then he handed the bag to Jenny as he snapped a rolling paper from the packet.
“This is some potent shit,” Marty said. He looked at Cassie, trying to gauge her reaction. They hadn’t been dating very long, and even though she had smoked with him a few times, he didn’t think she was all that much into it.
Al was concentrated on rolling a joint. “I like to roll a few at a time,” he said, as he handed the first finished product to Jenny, who admired his handiwork. “That way, if I get seriously messed up, I can keep smokin’. What say you toast that one?” He handed her a book of matches and started to work rolling a second joint.
Jenny fumbled to get a match lit and then, with her tongue sticking out of one corner of her mouth like a little kid concentrating on coloring, she ran the joint back and forth over the flame. The feeble light of the match cast her shadow against the cave wall.
“Where’d you get this?” Jenny asked, still sounding awestruck. “There’s gotta be a ton here!”
Al snorted with laughter when he glanced over at Marty. “Let’s just say I have a good connection with a supplier.”
Marty was laughing so hard he almost choked, and when he finally had control of himself, he said, “At least your sister does.”
Jenny didn’t appear to get it right away, but Cassie did. She knew that Al’s sister was dating Woody, and she was pretty sure from the talk she’d heard around town that Woody was one of the biggest low-end dealers in town. She had also heard about what had happened to Suzie a few nights ago wh
en Woody had beaten her up at a bar in Portland, so it didn’t take her long to put it all together.
“You stole this? From Woody?” She could barely get the words out.
“I never said that,” Al said, feigning innocence. “Did I ever say that?”
“I didn’t hear you say that,” Marty said, chuckling to cover his impatience. He wanted to get that joint stoked.
Al nodded, smiling. “Well, maybe I borrowed a little something, like a couple of ounces.” He snickered. “There might have been a bag in Suzie’s trunk, but—hey, man—Woody should know better than to leave his weed around where anyone can find it.”
“You’re crazy,” Cassie said. “Woody will kill you if he ever finds out.”
“He ain’t gonna find out,” Al said as he snapped out another rolling paper and reached into the bag. “Not unless you tell him.”
All four of them were silent as Al rolled the second joint and then, rubbing his hands together, said, “Well, come on. Let’s gather ‘round the ole campfire, shall we? Cassie, why don’t you do the honors?”
He held one of the joints out to Cassie, aware of the sharp look Jenny gave him as he struck a match and held it at the tip while Cassie gave several short, hissing pulls and then quickly handed the joint to Marty. Thin smoke curled up, and the stinging aroma of pot filled the cave as the tip glowed. The cigarette paper was stained deep brown with resin as the joint went around the circle. There was little time for talking while they smoked.
“Righteous weed,” Marty repeated every time before taking a toke. He kept glancing at Cassie, who was sitting to his left, but she seemed to be shying away from him, leaning against the cave wall. He wasn’t sure if the pot was getting to her or if she wanted to put some distance between them, but the marijuana smoke unfurled in his mind like a wind-ripped banner, and he found that he cared less and less.
Five or ten minutes passed in silence other than the hissing draws on the joint and their raspy exhalations. When the first joint was down to a tiny nub, Al spit on it to put it out and then popped it into his mouth as if it were a piece of candy. Without pausing to reflect on how high he or anyone else was, he struck a match for the second one. Before he lit it up, Jenny leaned forward and, with a strong puff of breath, blew the match out.
“I’ve had enough...for now,” she said, her voice purring soft and low, “Besides, I’ve got something else in mind.”
Marty’s eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. The air in the cave felt like it was drying out, and the light coming through the doorway seemed oddly intensified, like it was getting thicker. Shadows of leaves flickered and danced on the ground just inside the cave door, and minute-by-minute, they got jumpier, rippling with strange energy.
“How you, ahh, feelin’?” Marty asked, turning slowly to Cassie and looking at her with narrowed eyes. She smiled back at him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she was faking it more than feeling it.
“Fine...really fine,” she answered dreamily. “This is pretty potent stuff. I—I’m not used to it.”
“The first few rushes are the strongest,” he said as he slid up close to her and draped an arm over her shoulder. For just a moment, it felt as if she pulled away from him—as if she was afraid of his touch or disgusted by it—but then she leaned into him.
Shaking her head lazily from side to side, she said, “I’m wrecked,” and followed up with a quiet giggle that Marty thought sounded forced.
The arm Marty had draped over Cassie’s shoulder tightened up, pulling her closer. He turned her head toward him with his other hand and planted a kiss on her mouth. His tongue felt like a bloated slug when he darted it between her lips and into her mouth. His hand drifted down from her face to her shoulder and then to her breasts. Gently, he massaged first one side then the other as the kiss lengthened. He only broke it off when the sound of Cassie breathing noisily in and out suddenly struck him as funny, and he could no longer contain his laughter.
Cassie looked at him with a mixture of concern and anger. “What’s so funny?” she asked, wishing her voice could register the anger she felt.
“Nothin’...nothin’. I just...just...” Finally unable to find adequate words, he pulled her close again and rolled her onto the ground, pinning her down as he worked his hands inside her blouse.
Al and Jenny, meanwhile, were involved in their own heated embraces. Any concerns Al had about Jenny not being ready to go were unfounded. In fact, she was so aggressive she was freaking him out a little. Before he even tried to get things started, before he even kissed her, she was fumbling with his belt buckle. She seemed oblivious of Marty and Cassie and maybe even Al as she slid his zipper down and struggled to lower his pants. Reaching into his underwear, she gripped his hardened penis and, closing her eyes in ecstasy, began stroking it up and down. The least he could do was lean back and let her enjoy herself.
Time passed oddly. In some senses, it seemed to have stopped entirely, but in another, more actual sense, it seemed to have passed too fast before the four of them surfaced like swimmers who had been sounding the depths. Cassie was the first to sit up and look at her watch. Squealing, she started fumbling to get her blouse buttoned.
“Oh, my Gawd!” she wailed as she ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. “It’s after five o’clock. My mom’ll kill me if I’m not home for supper.”
Marty had been lying flat on the ground with Cassie on top of him. Still clothed, they had been humping each other, their hips grinding together. His orgasm had finally been just about to explode when Cassie sat up. He looked up at her with slitted eyes and, forcing her hand to his crotch, said, “Come on. You can’t leave me like this.”
“I have to!” Cassie shouted, pulling her hand away and looking at him with what looked like disgust. She hurriedly straightened her clothes but finally had to stand up to finish the job. “I’m gonna be grounded for a century if I’m not home in time.”
She was trying not to look at the bulge in Marty’s pants. As heated as she had been, the sudden realization of how late it was hit her like a splash of cold water. She hadn’t minded him feeling her up, but she wasn’t going to touch him there. She tried not to admit to herself how close they had come to actually doing it.
“Jesus Christ!” Marty said, sneering. He looked over to where Al and Jenny were tangled in each other ’s arms. Both of them were naked, and from the looks of things, they were doing it. Al was actually porking her.
Marty didn’t know whether or not to bother them. He slowly rolled into a sitting position and watched as Cassie tucked her blouse into her jeans.
“Jenny. Are you coming with me?” Cassie asked. She started moving slowly toward the cave entrance. The light outside had turned deeper yellow, and shadows had lengthened noticeably. She was still pretty buzzed, and the sudden, direct sunlight brought tears to her eyes. Looking down the path that led back to town, all she could see were the deepening shadows. Gooseflesh rippled on her arms.
Marty was still slouched against the wall, looking like he had no plans to move for the next few hours. His crotch felt like someone had put it into a vise and was giving it one hell of a squeeze.
“You’re not going to make me walk home alone, are you?” Cassie asked, looking at him. There was a frantic edge in her voice, but Marty was still too stoned to notice it. He took a deep breath and scratched his head with both hands. The dimming light outside made everything inside the cave even more indistinct. After a moment or two, he shifted to his knees and then stood up slowly.
“Yeah...yeah. I’ll walk you back,” he said. “Hey, stud, you coming?” Only after he said it did he realize his unfortunate choice of words, and he chuckled.
Al and Jenny had rolled into a corner of the cave. Jenny was on top now, their entwined bodies looking like a strange, mutated clump of humanity. The bag of pot was on the floor where Al had left it. Marty picked it up and rolled the top shut.
“Look, uh, I’m gonna walk Cass home. You want me to put this ba
ck?”
There was no answer from the corner, but the heavy breathing and twisting arms and legs let Marty know they at least were still alive. He crawled over to the fissure with the bag of pot in one hand and, bending low, reached inside.
“I’ll put it back,” he said. “Remember our deal, though. Neither one of us can take any if the other’s not around.”
There was a muffled grunt from Al, but Marty couldn’t tell if it was acknowledgement of him or some sexual peak. His arm was behind the rock, past the elbow, and he was lowering the bag to the floor when something snagged his wrist. He grunted and pulled back hard to get his hand free.
“What the—?” he shouted. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a low, snarling sound.
“What is it?” Cassie asked.
“Christ!” Marty shouted as he scrambled backwards.
A sudden, intense fear filled him. He had a sudden thought that there was something behind the rock, something small and vicious. If it had gotten a good hold on his arm, it wouldn’t have let go.
“Are you all right?” Cassie asked, panic filling her voice. She was still standing in the doorway, looking like she didn’t know which way to run.
Sitting back on his heels, Marty looked at his hand as he clenched his fist. An angry red welt was starting to rise, ringing his wrist.
“What’s the fuck’s the matter with you?” Al asked lazily, his voice sounding disembodied in the darkness.
Marty looked at him and saw that he was sitting up, staring at him angrily. “I...uh, I thought there was something behind the rock.”
“You’re hallucinating,” Al said, followed by a silly giggle.
“No, really...I—”
“Christ, Mart!” Al shook his head sadly from side to side. “Why do you have to fuck me up all the time?”
Marty was staring at his arm, but his eyes suddenly darted to the opening in the cave wall when he thought he heard a low growl coming from the other side.
Cassie seemed to have heard it, too. She let out a low whimper that made Marty think of a hurt animal.
