Something Down There

by Nancy Widrew

  Chapter 3

  Karen felt it first: that prickly, bone-chilling, ice-on-the-neck sensation when you’re certain you’re being watched. Standing still, eyes and ears on alert, she heard a soft giggle followed by a series of clicks like the striking of castanets. She turned in the direction of the sound to see a man and woman approaching.

  Karen moved closer to her husband as he clenched his fists, drawing them up and back.

  “Is this yours?” the man asked, holding on to their rope. “I’m sorry. I thought it belonged to the family that left earlier. People are always leaving things behind, you know. Oh excuse me for not introducing myself. I’m Abraham, but everyone calls me Rahm. This is Rachel.” He extended his right hand.

  Jeremy relaxed his fingers and reached out to shake the offered hand. The man had a strong grip which wasn’t surprising considering the well-defined muscles and cordlike veins, running down his pale, taut arms.

  The man’s features were hard to make out due to a shadow falling across his face and his full, light-colored beard. Karen, however, sensed a person with an acute intelligence and strong personality. He was of medium height, but the muscularity of his upper body made him appear taller. She felt unable to pinpoint his age, but judging from his voice and physique, Karen guessed anywhere from thirty to early forties.

  The woman was small, almost tiny, yet her wiry build along with unusually thick calves suggested that of a predatory animal capable of moving an incredible distance in a fraction of time.

  Their clothes, ill-fitting, inappropriate attire, hung loosely at the shoulders and hips, and Karen wondered how they managed to keep their core temperature regulated. While it was far from cold in the cave, it wasn’t tropical either.

  Strangest of all was the focus of their eyes. With a dip of their heads, they avoided looking at anyone or anything directly; instead, they gazed with an off-centered slant as if they were blind. But, thought Karen, that’s impossible; they move too easily to be blind.

  Intuitively, Karen sensed something wrong and circled her body with her arms in defense.

  Rahm handed the rope back to Jeremy. “Take it,” he said, speaking in a deep, authoritative voice as if he were used to giving instructions. “We weren’t stealing. We just like to keep the place tidy.”

  Karen looked to Jeremy for reassurance, but he, too, seemed to sense the bizarre nature of the encounter. He squeezed his eyes, causing tiny crow’s-feet to form toward both temples while Karen wiped cold sweet from her forehead. Forcing herself, Karen took a step forward. “I don’t understand. Are you locals? Are you paid to keep the place clean?”

  The odd couple exchanged a coy glance before throwing back their heads and laughing.

  “Yes and no,” said Rahm. “I suppose you can call us locals. That’s accurate enough. But, no, we aren’t paid to clean up. It’s just with all the junk people leave behind, this cave would be unlivable in no time. Besides, some of the stuff’s useful.”

  “I still don’t understand,” said Jeremy. “What do you mean by ‘unlivable’?”

  “Just that,” said Rachel. “You see, the cave is our home.” This was the first time she spoke and her low-pitched, droning tones sounded more robotic than human.

  Rahm interrupted. “I think I’d better explain. Rachel’s telling the truth. We really do live here. Just much lower down.” He swung his finger like a plane in free fall and smiled, as if amused by the couple’s confusion. “You didn’t know there were lower levels, did you?” Answering his own question, he said, “No, of course not. No one knows.”

  Jeremy ran his hand across his face. “You’re kidding.” When he saw they were serious, his eyes opened wide, exposing the whites, top and bottom. “But why? That’s insane. Don’t the two of you get bored? Lonely? And hasn’t anyone tried to find you?”

  Rahm inched closer. “Actually, there are eleven of us. Nine adults, two children. We live here because we want to.” Reversing his crash-landing finger toward the surface above, he said, “None of us left much of anything behind. Not possessions, close family or friends, so I doubt if we’ve been missed. And no one knows we’re here. That is, until you.”

  The yellow glow from Karen’s helmet shone directly on Rahm’s face. He blinked in response as if it burned. Recovering, he ran his eyes along the S of her form before lingering on her hips for a protracted moment.

  Karen’s recoiled and leaned against the wall for support. She stared at Jeremy, now looking spellbound, and immediately understood why. How many times had he had told her how he pictured his name above an exclusive article featured on page one. And this craziness offered him a perfect shot at success.

  ”Do you suppose,” he said, “that I could interview you. All of you, I mean. I work for a small newspaper. It would make a sensational story. I don’t have to say where the cave is.”

  Rahm’s pleasant expression transformed to granite: firm, stoic, and unreadable. “I don’t see why not. What do you think, Rachel?”

  “It’s okay with me,” she said, her face as rigid as her companion’s.

  Karen turned to Jeremy, her voice dim and shaky. “I want to go home. Right now. We’ve been down here for hours, and I’m tired.”

  “Please, Karen,” pleaded Jeremy, his voice rising louder, higher. “Do you know what this could mean? It’s the story of the year—the decade. I may never get another chance like this.”

  “No!”

  “I promise I’ll never ask you for anything again. Please!”

  Sensing his desperation, Karen found herself vacillating. Since she knew how much he wanted to advance in his career and deal in hard news, she offered a trade-off. “All right,” she said, “but only if we fly to Bermuda next Friday for a long weekend. Remember you said we’d do whatever I want, and that’s what I want.”

  Relieved, Jeremy exhaled a slow, deep breath as the muscles in his jaw relaxed. “It’ll be expensive, but okay. A deal’s a deal.”

  “Good,” said Rahm, “and now that that’s settled, why don’t we get started. Um, one more thing … at some point, I’ll ask you to turn off your lamps. As you said, you wouldn’t tell anyone where to find us. Still, we have to take precautions. Also I suggest you put all your valuables in your backpacks. You don’t want to lose anything.” On Rahm’s face, a twist to the mouth grew larger, but he subtly hid it with a cough and a clearing of the throat.

  Before Karen could respond, Jeremy spoke up. “Of course,” he said, stuffing his wallet, rope, and flashlight into his backpack. “No problem. Oh, by the way, what was that clicking sound you made?”

  “Clicking sound? We’ll explain it later. All in good time.”

  They started out, Rahm leading the way. Jeremy breathed hard with excitement while Karen did likewise with fear. Rachel, trailing behind, smiled broadly, a secret on her lips which she made no effort to hide.

  Single file, they walked back toward the waterfall, stopping at that same second offshoot, the dead end. Karen’s senses, now on edge, felt the fall’s vibrations and heard its ancient voice, as if some enlightened sage were speaking inside her head. But before she could intuit the message, Rahm spoke.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to turn off your lamps now. Everyone thinks this offshoot goes nowhere, but that’s as far from the truth as possible. This holds the key.”

  Karen could feel her blood coursing through her veins, but imagining Bermuda just one week away, did as instructed. Still, the absolute blackness of this sucked-empty zone took her by surprise, sending her brain spinning. All around her was nothing but a landscape of vapor and vacuous space. She began to sway, feel disoriented. Hearing noises in the distance, she asked, “What’s going on? Are there others here?”

  Rahm sidelined her question. “No need for you to be concerned. Everything’s under control.”

  Control? Who? What? Karen stood still. Refused to move. “I want to go back. I want to go back right now!” She began to yell while her seemingly disjointed arms flailed at
her sides.

  “Stop!” barked Rahm as if commanding a military unit, and the unknown noise immediately ceased. Karen’s barrage, however, continued. Rachel stepped forward.

  “I assure you,” she said, “that you’re safe. Rahm would never let anything bad happen to you.”

  “And I wouldn’t either,” said Jeremy. “We’ll be talking about this day to our grandchildren.”

  Exasperated, Karen threw up her arms. “Okay, already. You win. But I better not regret this or you’ll be sorry.”

  “You won’t be sorry, Karen. This is gonna be great! The best day of our lives. You’ll see.”

  With Karen’s tantrum at an end, the small group moved on. Rahm prodded Karen forward, firmly yet solicitously. Each time the ceiling dropped, he’d place his palm on top of her head so that she’d stoop lower. Karen felt the walls brush against her. As they continued, he moved his hand to her arm, her hip, and the back to her head, signaling when she should bend, turn, or get down on all fours. At one point, Karen sat on the bare ground, insisting she needed a break. Rahm acquiesced but only for a few minutes, before pulling her up and onward.

  His words steady, adamant, and evoking the confidence that comes with power, he said, “It gets tricky here, so pay attention.” He shifted her sideways, placing her arms at her sides, explaining, “You’ll need to wiggle some at the hip. Don’t worry. You won’t get stuck. Just take a breath, let it out. Now hold it.”

  She heard scraping sounds as he went first. He reached back, linking his fingers with hers and pulled her to safety. “The next crevice is even tighter,” he warned, but with a sculptor’s precision, he molded her, helped her twist her body so that she slid through the sliver-sized space like well-greased toast buttered on both sides.

  They crawled through a narrow hole, and she exhaled again to make herself smaller. Once on the other side, she could stand tall and breathe normally. She circled her neck, stretching in relief but stopped, certain now of the presence of someone else. She listened as objects were shoved aside, large objects, boulders perhaps. They creaked and grated, one against the other, and she smelled something musty, foul, followed by a male voice groaning with effort. Every nerve in her body screamed, Take me back, take me back, followed by her angry “Damn you, Jeremy,” not even realizing she had spoken out loud.

  Rahm laid his hand on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing gently. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. The click-clicks resumed.

  He led her on, steering her down—always down to a lower level. The comfort from his physical touch resulted in a feeling of gratitude. A few times she felt an urge to turn on her lamp, but like a child afraid of disobeying her parent, she refrained. What if he leaves me here? she thought. Instead, she kept her hands pointed outward, searching, probing like a blind person in unfamiliar territory and in need of protection.

  In the distance, Karen heard Jeremy yell “Shit!” With all the turns, the shifting, the sliding in and out, she had no idea if he was ahead of her or in back, but one thing she presumed, he had injured himself. Unlike her, Jeremy usually used that one measly word for anything unpleasant, and since there were no further outbursts, Karen concluded it was a minor bump or abrasion. Rachel wasn’t being as careful with him as Rahm was with her. Unconsciously, she smiled at the thought.

  Rahm’s hand on her elbow signaled a halt, while another person (probably the same from before) crept up beside her. She felt his breath upon her face, hot and dank, but only Rahm spoke. “You’ll have to trust me from this point. I’m going to put you in a full body harness. You’ll feel like you’re sitting in a chair. I’m also going to take your helmet. That’s for your own good so you won’t be tempted to turn on the light. Believe me, you’ll be grateful. With your permission, I’m going to tie a scarf around your eyes. I know you can’t see in the dark, but I guarantee you’ll feel more secure with it on. When you reach the bottom, I’ll take it off.”

  “Permission? Scarf? Like hell! And what do you mean you’ll get there before I do?”

  Rahm laughed. “After years of living here, I’m like a mountain goat or an acrobat with no need for a net.”

  “But what about me? I’m scared.”

  Rahm patted her arm. “No need. You’re perfectly safe.”

  Before she could protest further, expert fingers strapped her in at the waist, chest, and hip; knots were tied and yanked across her body. She prayed they were secure. “There,” said Rahm. “All set. Now listen closely. If you hit the cave wall, don’t panic, just push off with your feet or hands. I’ll be right by.”

  “Wait!” she screamed. “I don’t like this. I changed my mind. Let me off, damn you! Stop …!” It was too late. Hearing a crank being turned, followed by a whirring noise, she was lifted off the ground, rotated, and gradually lowered into empty space, far beyond any zip code.

  She felt pressure against her chest, deadweight, and her breathing increased as if she were running while her teeth chattered a dirge for the doomed. Instinctively, she reached up to turn on her lamp, forgetting it wasn’t there.

  Despite her fear, she did remember to kick off when her knees or backside brushed the wall as she spun in the air on her endless descent. “Dear God,” she heard herself say over and over until it became a mantra, a chant, a hymn. And then, once again, just like her initial jump off the ledge that very morning, she was flying, escaping her worries, leaving frustrations behind. She felt the wind kiss her face, and she swung her feet like a child on a swing. Then suddenly the chair apparatus stopped with a jolt, hovering somewhere, nowhere, while still turning in circles, making her dizzy.

  The parachute descent resumed, but only inches at a time, causing her to bounce with each movement. A steely clamp grasped her ankle and her muscles tightened then froze until she realized it was a human hand. Slowly, carefully, she felt herself pulled downward. When her feet finally touched rock-hard, blessed ground, she gasped in fear, wonder, and relief.

  He was there. Rahm. He removed the scarf and helped her from the harness. With both of her knees now unstable hinges, she grabbed his shoulder for support. Hearing faint voices reverberating in the labyrinth, she asked, “Is that Jeremy? Rachel?”

  He brushed off her question saying, “You did very well.”

  Although still sightless, she sensed people watching her, judging her as if she were a trophy. She heard a trickle of water and wondered if they were near a stream, but felt reluctant to ask. Again her hand went up to her head to turn on her absconded lamp. She let it fall to her thigh, useless.

  And then she saw something moving. Drops of water, perhaps? No. Whatever she saw, it moved side to side, flickering. Candles, she realized, turning to Rahm, his face outlined in a soft ethereal light.

  “Welcome to Second Chance City,” he said. “Home.”

  Chapter 4

  Carl slammed the door with his foot while ahchooing like a cheer leader for the common cold.

  “Thank God your back,” said Joan, echoing his mini explosions with her own.

  He placed a plastic bag on the coffee table. “I picked up some decongestant, lozenges, and four boxes of tissues. That should hold us for now.”

  “What about cough suppressant?” asked Joan.

  “I thought about that, but I read it’s good to bring up all the crap in your throat. Anyway, I’ll go out later if you want. Oh, by the way, I stopped at Jeremy and Karen’s house.”

  Joan pulled the cover down from her face. “How come?”

  “I was in the area and his muddy sneakers have been in my car for a month. Jeremy finally took my advice and got himself a pair of real climbing boots. Figures, they weren’t home, so I left the sneaks outside the door. No one’s going to steal a pair of cruddy old shoes.”

  Joan made a face. “Yeah, but now other tenants will know they’re out. Oh well, it’s a safe building, and they should be home soon enough. Didn’t you say they were going biking or hiking today? I can’t remember which.”

  Carl shrugged.

/>   “You sure they wouldn’t go caving by themselves?”

  “Naw, Jeremy can’t be that dumb.”

  “Well, in any case, you just reminded me that I have to call Karen later about the movies tomorrow. I think I should pass. I doubt I’ll be well enough, and besides I don’t want her to catch what I’ve got.” She began to cough and grabbed for the lozenges. “Oh, good. Cherry.”

  #

  Rahm kept her helmet, explaining that the glare from the spotlight would hurt everyone’s eyes so she had to make do with the subdued lighting from the candles and Hurricane lanterns spread about. Jeremy, who had arrived minutes before, had finished questioning Rachel, taking notes with schoolboy enthusiasm, and then left to probe the underground lake, one level below. Karen bristled, thinking this was the man who had promised “to love and to cherish.” What a crock! Now with the possibility of fame and fortune waving its glorious flag, he had walked off, leaving her alone and vulnerable, a solitary figure unsure where to turn.

  Forcing herself, Karen lifted one foot then the other with a “Whew” on her breath as if surprised they still worked. She crossed an intersection of sorts, two paths forming a right angle, and entered what appeared to be the living room lit with overhead torches in addition to the lanterns. The walls sparkled with lustrous, white crystals reflecting light in all directions. She turned her face up where giant stalagmites rose like steeples, ornate and layered with castle-like turrets before disappearing into misty cave clouds.

  One large section, decorated with delicate sheets of flowstone, formed ripples and folds along the wall, translucent near the top but taking on a rosy hue as it worked its way down, before fading like a streak from a painter’s brush. But what surprised her even more was the amount of furniture on hand, although basic and worn. The contrast between that and the cave’s natural wonders left her disjointed. She sucked in her lower lip.

  A large rug, ravaged from the steady accumulation of grime, had slivers of green poking through to reveal its original color. Surrounding it were three shabby couches and four equally worn chairs. Bare wooden planks and rows of milk crates, stacked one on top of the other, were used to hold card and board games. The supply of books was impressive. It would have filled a wall in her apartment.