by Nancy Widrew
As the smoky fragrance of incense entered her nostrils, Karen tugged on Rahm’s sleeve. “Is this the Fertility Area? Janet mentioned something about incense.” From farther back in the darkness, a breathy “Hello” rang out a welcome, answering her question.
Rahm lit a candelabrum set on a small table, and Karen and Jeremy were able to make out a young woman lying across a mattress. Plump, cottony pillows were strewn about. The woman’s attire, a transparent nightgown with a plunging neckline, made the outline of her body a visual feast: chestnut-colored hair coiled down her back; her breasts, twin mounds with two erect points, asked to be kissed; and her thighs, soft and round, signaled an invitation for love.
Oddly, she didn’t seem surprised to see strangers. Looking from Rahm to Jeremy, she said, “Have you come for a turn?”
Still able to appreciate the uniqueness of the situation, Rahm smirked. “Not just now, Helene.”
Running a hand seductively down her body, she said, “That’s all right. My time is just about over.” Then nonchalantly, she asked, “Who are your friends?”
After making the introductions, Rahm explained they were unexpected guests.
“‘Guests,’” she sniggered. Immediately, she realized her misstep and covered it with a giggle. She fondled the necklace around her neck—similar to Janet’s—and gathered her possessions: two small clay statues: a man, a woman, both naked. Then drawing herself up to her full height—almost eye level with Jeremy—she walked off, dismissing them all with a wave of her hand.
Karen wasn’t sure what to make of this striking creature, wondering if she had merely glimpsed a facade. Perhaps underneath that flawless exterior lay her namesake Helene, a mythological Amazon warrior. Then again, perhaps she was only an object of desire as Janet insinuated.
Karen could see Jeremy sharing her confusion as he stared, mouth agape, and whistled under his breath. The fact that Helene was exceptionally pretty, just added to the effect of her blatant offer. Questioning if love was part of the vocabulary in this odd community, Karen laughed thinking she was more of a prude than she realized.
Rahm lit other candelabrums and the newcomers set about exploring this purported revered area. Toward the center stood an altar with small stones and books of sacred writing on top. Nearby, the joining of a stalagmite and a stalactite formed a thick column. Karen and Jeremy had difficulty keeping their expressions serious when they focused on the pillar’s chiseled-out depiction of the group’s supreme god, Tloc.
Tloc appeared to be a larger yet similar version of a statue they had seen earlier among Rachel’s possessions. He stood fully exposed with a face surrounded by a decorative headdress. Small crystalline rocks were placed in the eye sockets, and the arms were folded at chest level as if declaring his preeminence and insistence on adoration. Here, too, the main embellishment was the exaggerated size of his phallus.
Karen had no desire to insult her host, yet her crinkled eyes held amusement. To stave off a faux pas, she joined Jeremy at a second column showcasing the nearly completed goddess, a mate for Tloc. Like Tloc, she stood, arms at chest level, but those folded extremities gave way to a swollen belly. Karen, despite her best effort, tittered behind compressed lips. “I’m sorry,” she said, noting the deepening flush on Rahm’s face.
As the tribe’s leader, Rahm was accustomed to shouldering most problems with backbone, but it was obvious this touchy matter proved challenging. To compensate, he stood erect, elbows back, his mind sharp and focused. “I heard you and Janet talking about our bad luck,” he said to the couple.
Karen and Jeremy squirmed.
“It’s funny,” he continued. “Our bodies have adapted to all conditions here in the cave except procreation. Some members thought adding a goddess might help. As you can see, she’s a work in progress, but with Rachel’s skill, I’m sure she’ll be lovely. And don’t feel embarrassed on my account. I know what you’re thinking.” He stared at the ground then faced them head on. “None of this was my idea, but what’s the harm? Having deities appeases the members. Gives them hope.”
Jeremy spoke up. “But you’re not a believer, are you? This is nonsense.”
Rahm threw up his hands. “Does it matter what I believe? What’s religion, anyway, but a source of strength for its followers? Gives them a purpose for living and an excuse when things go wrong. I expect it’s no different for you.”
Karen offered a half-smile, having no argument with Rahm’s premise, even though the idea of worshiping a clump of rock seemed ridiculous. She tensed, however, when Jeremy gnashed his teeth, intuiting his displeasure at the defacement of cave formations. As a precaution, she whispered in his ear, then relaxed when he shoved his fists into his pockets, insurance against knocking down the Golden Calves.”
“You may not agree with our theology and behavior,” said Rahm, looking at Jeremy, “but you have to understand this is our home … I hope when you write your article, you’ll do it with respect.”
Jeremy, remembering why he was here, uncurled his fingers. “Of course,” he said, letting his hands fall from his pockets. “I shouldn’t judge.”
Rahm picked up a candelabrum and pointed out some drawings, carved into the cave’s wall. “This is Rachel’s work.” Karen walked up, nose inches from the limestone canvass, for a better view. The drawings, showcasing a timeline, ran from left to right. Most of the earlier ones were done in stick figures, but she noted improvement as Rachel’s talents progressed over the years. “How interesting,” she said, adding the trite phrase from her lexicon of half-truths.
She ran a finger along the latter images, each with multiple colors of browns, reds, purples, and yellows. These figures were etched deeper into the wall, giving them three dimensions and helping her recognize the people portrayed. A stout Brian and a doughy Janet depicted together in a sexual pose, drove Karen to the brink of a laugh. Immediately, she tensed her jaw.
“How did you decide on a name for your god?” she asked. “Tloc? Did I pronounce it right?”
“Rachel named him. I think it’s similar to an Aztec god, and only she says it right. But you did pretty good. We haven’t come up with a name for the goddess yet. I suspect Rachel will think of something.” He smiled. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s the boss.”
A token boss, thought Karen. Then, “How did you get the paint?”
“Rachel made it. She ground up mineral deposits from rocks and mixed them with fat from the animals that occasionally wander in. We eat them, of course. Nothing’s wasted here. But we don’t kill for pleasure; only for food. Or”—he cocked his head—“when absolutely necessary.”
“Right. Sure,” mumbled Jeremy, missing the nuance, his attention suddenly sidelined.
“Something wrong?” asked Karen, noticing him patting his shirt pocket.”
“Yeah,” he said. “What happened to my pen? You know, my lucky pen. I gave it to you when we exchanged numbers with Sara and George.”
“Did you? I thought you gave me a Bic. Anyway, I gave it back.”
“Uhh. You sure that was a Bic?”
“I think so, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t pay much attention. It was dark and you always carry Bics. Anyway, whichever pen it was, it’s probably in your backpack.”
“I hope so,” he said, puffing his cheeks before expelling the air. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Must be there.” Reassured, he pulled a replacement, clipped to his pocket flap and returned to the pictures.
Since every image had to do with intercourse, the task proved simple enough. As he circled about scribbling notes and making cartoon depictions, he touched a drawing, the last in the row. Inadvertently his fingernail flicked the earthen wall, splitting the image in half. He gasped at his blunder and extended an immediate apology.
Rahm’s face tightened, but he remained polite. “No problem. It’s gypsum. Easy to repair.”
Jeremy wiped his brow with the back of his hand and blinked back relief. “Phew,” he said, casting a surreptiti
ous and calculating glance at his watch.
Karen caught the gesture and did likewise to her wrist. “I didn’t realize it was so late,” she said. “Listen, thanks for the tour. This had been a remarkable day, but it’s time for us to leave.”
“Oh,” said Rahm. “I thought you were staying for dinner.”
“I don’t think so. Salamander and worms are not one of my favorite dishes.”
Rahm smiled automatically as if it were part of a well-rehearsed speech. “We can easily fry you some salvelinus fortinalis.”
Karen screwed up her face. “Sounds disgusting.”
“Actually, it’s fresh brook trout and very delicious. They live in the lake.”
“Also,” continued Rahm, “I was hoping you’d stay a little longer and tell us what’s happening in the outside world. Most of the members haven’t been above in years. It would be such a treat, especially for the children.”
Jeremy, still searching for a catchy angle to begin his article reconsidered and decided breaking bread with this loopy bunch might be just the solution he was looking for. Turning toward Karen, a no on her lips, he parried with a silent but unmistakable please.
“I suppose one more hour can’t hurt,” she acceded, “and you”—she switched her attention to Rahm—“you did say trout.”
Suddenly, a scream followed by a scuffle diverted their attention.
“Rachel … you lying bitch!”
“Oh-oh,” said Rahm. “That’s Mary. Maybe I’d better look.” Before he could lift a foot, Mary bolted down the passageway, shouting obscenities, her fingers rounded like claws.
“Oomph,” yelped Mary, grimacing with pain as Rachel turned and surprised her pursuer with a headbutt. Although caught off guard, Mary still managed to grab a handful of hair and pull the smaller woman to the ground. Mary, however, lacked Rachel’s split-second reflexes. Before she saw it coming, Rachel had Mary pinned with her thighs and landed a punch to her cheek, clipping the side of her nose.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” asked Jeremy.
“Nope,” said Rahm. “As you can see, Rachel can handle herself despite her size and Mary’s a pain in the ass. Besides, she’ll give up in a minute. She has no taste for violence.”
As predicted, Mary scrambled backwards, pushing with her legs, and mewing like a sick child. She turned toward Karen and snorted contemptuously, running her eyes over the younger, prettier, and, worse, healthier version of herself. Karen blanched and twisted a corner of her sweater, unsettled by the display. Finally, reason seemed to overtake jealousy and Mary cried out, “I tried. I really did.” Then stumbling to her feet, she licked the blood off her upper lip and ran to the safety of her room.
Rachel, still remaining, shot Rahm an I-told-you-so glance before sulking off with the unwanted bonus of a tiny bald spot, gleaming in the torchlight.
Jeremy scratched his head.
“Sorry you had to witness that,” said Rahm, “but you’ll see, our Mary will be smiling and apologetic in no time.”
Karen grabbed Rahm by the forearm. “What were they fighting about? And what did Mary mean by ‘I tried’? She was looking at me.”
“Mary’s emotions run hot and cold, and I’ve given up trying to fix or understand her. Sometimes she just needs to vent. Anyway, she was talking to me, not you. She just doesn’t like her assignment for the week. That’s all it is, I assure you.”
Karen pulled away, troubled by an ice-water sensation on her neck and tingling down her spine. Most of all, she chafed at Rahm’s words, finding them far from assuring. Jeremy, to the contrary, smirked like a wise-ass chauvinist and shared a man-to-man, all-knowing grin with Rahm.
Chapter 6
The threesome arrived back at the common area where a few members were putting the finishing touches on meal preparation. The others sat or stood nonchalantly, chatting in measured tones, attempting to act casual. Karen knew they were talking about her, Jeremy too, of course. She didn’t mind; it was only natural, yet she noted a flaw in their demeanor. All the adults smiled but immediately looked away, appearing fidgety and anxious, eyes cast downward. Karen rested her chin on the steeple of her forefingers and wondered why they seemed so solemn, despite their smiles. No, that’s not right, she corrected herself. They look guilty, like a child who’s done something wrong. But what could be wrong?
Rahm whispered something into Janet’s ear, and she immediately rushed back to the kitchen. He gestured for Karen and Jeremy to join him at the table. He sat between them.
“I asked Janet to fry up some fresh fish. She’s a good cook and I’m sure you’ll be pleased, but I’d appreciate it if you make it a point to tell her. She’s prone to depression, and I’m concerned. But now, I’d like you both to meet our family.”
Rahm nodded his head and everyone flocked over. Karen wondered how those standing off to the side noticed. Did they feel a vibration of some sort? She bit her tongue, deciding not to ask.
With the exception of Janet and the boys, they all sat down and said their hellos to the newcomers, their lips pulled back as if posing for a class picture.
“These nice folks are joining us for dinner,” said Rahm. “Jeremy’s a reporter and is doing a story on our lives in the cave, so let’s all try and make a good impression. And this beautiful woman,” he added with a wink, “is his wife, Karen. Since they’ve already met some of you, let’s start with those who haven’t been formally introduced. You, Mary?”
Mary, as Rahm predicted, had already calmed down even going so far as to put on a clean change of clothes. In addition, all traces of blood were gone. What remained was a grim-faced woman, with ho-hum, forgettable features, looking out of place among this outlandish bunch. Despite her mundane appearance, Karen wondered why Jeremy continued to stare. Was he imagining her naked in the fertility area? What a crazy thought, she said to herself. Hiding her discomfort behind a pasted smile, Karen felt a sense of unease.
Apparently, the feeling was shared. “Nice to meet you,” said Mary, her monotone a dead giveaway to a lie.
David, unlike Mary, was welcoming. His boy-next-door looks (if next door meant a penthouse or a thirty-room mansion) just added to his appeal. With thick, sandy hair, and a smile both innocent and suggestive, he appeared a close counterpart to his bedmate, Helene. He was also the only clean-shaven male in the group. Somehow in these surroundings it seemed out of place, and Karen wondered if it was a case of vanity or something else. Likewise, she thought it astounding that there appeared no anger or jealously in David’s attitude toward his partner, who sat beside him and had so willingly offered herself to any man just that day.
David rose and extended his hand to the new arrivals with a “Delighted to meet you both.”
Karen smiled back, unconsciously fluffing out her hair, flattered by his looks and charm, but she noticed his eyes lingering on her husband longer than her.
Jeremy returned the greeting as enthusiastically as it was given, either oblivious or indifferent to any indiscretion.
Karen exchanged pleasantries with Lily, who put her at ease with her low-key demeanor. Seemingly bright and not much older than Karen herself, she had symmetrical features in an oval face. Sitting there in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, she looked a vision of femininity, without the blatant sexiness of Helene. Still the hint of a rounded hip, along with a glimpse of cleavage when she bent over, suggested a low smoldering fire.
Janet walked in with an oversized bowl, brimming with salamander and worms. The smell hit Karen like an unflushed toilet. She grimaced and repeated to herself, I will not get sick, I will not get sick. The two boys helped their mother, scrambling back and forth from the kitchen. Karen kept her eyes down so she wouldn’t have to look at the food or Jon’s face.
Janet handed Karen a specially prepared plate with trout.” I hope you enjoy the fish,” she said. Large platters were passed down the table from person to person. Rice and mushrooms helped fill out the offerings. Karen found she had little appetite
.
Rahm was quick to point out that everyone took turns, men and women alike, in all the chores, including preparing the food, serving it, and cleaning up afterwards.
“I guess,” said Jeremy, “the feminist revolution has penetrated down here too.” He tried not to choke since he laughed and swallowed at the same time.
“We brought it with us,” said Lily. “We all do our fair share, although we try to make allowances so people can contribute in ways they prefer. For instance, Janet likes to cook, and I like gathering the mushrooms.”
“‘Gathering the mushrooms’?” said Jeremy.
“That’s right,” said Lily. “They grow wild in the peat, down by the lake. The boys found them one day and came back after gorging on them. At first we worried they’d get sick. You know, poisoned. When they didn’t, naturally we were relieved. We started cultivating new crops to increase the yield and save the wild ones for official functions or special occasions.”
Rachel put down her fork, looked up, eyes glistening in the candlelight. “This cave is extraordinary. Beyond extraordinary. It’s magical.”
Karen tipped his head sideways, confused. “But even mushrooms need some sunlight.”
“Maybe they’re some kind of hybrid?” offered Brian. “Have you noticed how warm it is in this cave? About ten degrees higher than what you’d expect. Maybe that’s why they grow. Whatever the reason, we think of them as a gift.” He stabbed another with his fork.
“What about the rice?” said Jeremy, scooping up a mouthful of the puffy grain.
Randy, eager to be part of the adult conversation, spoke up. “We’ve tons of rice. We buy it above then store it in containers in the pantry. It keeps forever. Rahm says I’m almost old enough to go with him on a shopping trip. It’ll be my first time.” He looked toward Rahm and began to stutter. “Y-you didn’t forget or ch-change your mind, did you?”
Rahm reached across and tousled the boy’s cornstalk-colored hair. “Have I ever lied to you?” he said. As Mary subtly raised an eyebrow, Randy beamed with the love reserved for a father.
