by Ike Hamill
Justin nodded. “Yeah, and if we’re going to be optimistic, you gotta figure we’ll have some rocks to carry back, right?”
“We should get some backpacks or something too.”
The door banged open. Travis came back out, followed by Carlos. He was slapping flour from his hands as he walked.
“What’s up?” Carlos asked.
“We want to talk to Joy about that caving equipment,” Justin said. “We figured we needed to talk to Kristin first, you know?”
“Yeah? What? You need me to talk to Kristin? Go talk to her yourself.”
Justin looked to Travis. This wasn’t going as he expected.
Travis took over. “You know where Kristin is?”
“Sure,” Carlos said. “She’s probably over at Downside like she is every Friday night. You know that.”
Travis shrugged.
“What do you guys need caving stuff for? You know all she has is those crappy carbide lamps, right?”
“And helmets, and some ropes,” Travis said.
Carlos nodded and tilted his head. “Why do you want that stuff?”
“We’re going into Old Hang,” Miguel said.
Carlos began to wipe his hands on his apron. He shook his head and frowned. “Is this that gold thing? Jordan was talking about that. Sounds like bullshit.”
“That’s what I said,” Justin said. “But we’re going anyway, just to check it out.”
“What time you guys going over there? I’ve got another hour here and then I’m off until Sunday.”
Justin, Travis, and Miguel exchanged glances. Nobody had an answer.
Miguel finally thought of a response. “We’re going to try to borrow Jordan’s truck. You going home after? We could meet you there.”
“Cool,” Carlos said. “I gotta get back.” He turned and left them.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“You guys stay here and watch him,” Justin said, pointing at Ryan. “Keep him out of trouble for ten minutes, okay?”
Travis nodded.
“Sure thing,” Miguel said.
Justin pushed his way through the heavy door and stopped at a line that wound down the dark hall. For a second, he thought it was the line to get into the bar. It was all women—they were waiting for the ladies’ room. He excused himself as he worked his way down the line.
At the archway, he blinked and scanned the crowd. Most of the people were either crowded at the bar or along the stage. The middle of the room only held scattered people. Justin realized that the person he was looking for was the woman on stage. She was singing some karaoke version of a song he vaguely recognized.
Returning to his search, Justin spotted Leslie, Kristin’s roommate and partner in drinking. She was at the bar. Justin headed to her. He squeezed in next to her, between stools.
“Hey,” Leslie said.
“How’s it going?” Justin asked. He had to shout to be heard over Kristin’s singing, amplified to drunk levels.
Leslie leaned in to yell to him. “Where’s your cadre? Don’t you boys usually move in packs?”
“We’re on a mission. We want to borrow some of Joy’s stuff. Her Dad’s stuff, I guess.”
“So why are you here?” She held up both her hands, nearly toppling her drink.
“Can’t go to Joy’s alone. Brit is an asshole.”
“That’s so true,” Leslie said, slapping his arm. Some people had an inner beauty that shone through their exterior appearance. Leslie was the opposite. She was gorgeous, but had such a rotten disposition that she remained single. It didn’t help that she always hung around Kristin, who was both pretty and nice. The contrast was drastic.
The bartender approached and claimed Justin’s attention. “What’ll you have?”
“I’m good,” Justin said.
“You have to order something.”
“Water.”
“Two drink minimum for dudes.”
“I’m driving,” Justin said. He held up his house key as a prop.
The bartender shot him a disgusted look and disappeared.
“Hey!” Leslie yelled. “You were amazing!”
Justin turned around and smiled. Kristin approached, wiping imaginary sweat off her brow.
“Was it okay? You think?”
“Yeah,” Leslie said. “You were great.”
“Hey,” Justin said, inserting himself into their conversation.
“Oh! Hey,” Kristin said. She automatically looked past him to see who else was there. He might have been acting casual about it tonight, but everyone knew that Carlos was jealous. None of his friends approached Kristin without Carlos around. It was messed up, but she seemed to accept the arrangement.
“I left the guys outside so they wouldn’t get in trouble in here. We’re looking for your help to go talk to Joy.”
“You mean those guys?” Kristin asked. She pointed over Justin’s shoulder.
Down the bar, Justin spotted his friends. Ryan was waving his arms frantically and talking way too close to some guy who looked very annoyed. Miguel was leaning halfway over the bar, probably describing some infinitely complex cocktail to the patient bartender. Travis was engaged in a deep conversation with several women who were clumped around him.
“They look like they’re doing fine,” Kristin said.
Justin didn’t even have time to comment before the situation exploded. The guy that Ryan was annoying suddenly took a swing at him. Meanwhile, Travis had said something to the women. They all began to push him towards the door.
“Shit,” Justin said. He turned back to Kristin. “Can you come with us to Joy’s house?”
She nodded and took one more sip of her drink.
Justin had to fight his way upstream against the crowd that was forming. They seemed to want someone’s blood and they were focused on Justin’s friends.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“Wait up,” Leslie said.
They were back on the street, walking the blocks between the bar and Joy’s place.
She was trailing the group. There was one positive thing about Leslie tagging along—with her in the rear, Ryan didn’t lag at all. Leslie had a crush on Ryan and he didn’t want any part of it. With her behind the group, Ryan led the way.
“I should get her home,” Kristin said. “Let’s stop on the way.”
Justin nodded.
“You know,” Travis said. “We can go talk to Joy. You don’t have to come along. Brit might not even be home, you know? Doesn’t he usually work on his car on Friday night?”
“It’s okay,” Kristin said. “I don’t mind. In fact, I was thinking about tagging along with you guys. I love exploring places, especially underground.”
“No offense,” Miguel said, “but you’ve been drinking. I don’t think it would be the best idea for you to go stumbling around an old mine. No offense.”
“What about him?” Kristin asked. She pointed to Ryan. He seemed okay at the moment, but it hadn’t been long since he had been swatting at imaginary bats that he claimed were trying to lay eggs in his hair.
Justin nodded. He turned to Miguel. “She has a point. Maybe we should ditch Ryan at your place.”
“No way,” Miguel said. “We’d come back to find a Ryan-shaped spot on the floor once Vince was done with him.”
“We know too many assholes,” Justin said.
Kristin nodded.
Several paces ahead, Ryan turned around. “What’s that?”
Kristin, Miguel, and Justin shared a laugh.
Travis had lagged behind. He caught up quickly when Leslie started to advance on him. She had a sturdy, even pace that belied how drunk she was. It was dangerous to get too close to Leslie when she was drunk. She got grabby.
“Someday I’m going to buy a great big car and we’re going to drive everywhere with the air conditioning on full-blast,” Travis said.
“You might need to get a job first,” Miguel said.
“Nope,” Travis said. “I’m going to buy it with my cut
of the gold.”
“What gold?” Kristin asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Justin said. “It’s just a fantasy.”
“You’ll see,” Miguel said.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Joy shut the door behind herself before she would even talk to them. Even with it closed, she would only whisper. “What’s up?”
Kristin was their ambassador. “Can we borrow your father’s equipment? The carbide lamps and helmets?”
Joy shrugged and considered the request. “What for?”
At the bottom of the stairs, Ryan shouted at a line of fire ants. Justin saw Joy glance down at him and pushed Travis towards the stairs. “Go shut him up,” he whispered.
“Thanks,” Joy said. “Brit has to work in the morning and he does not sleep well if there’s any noise.”
Kristin answered the question. “We’re going to go exploring in Old Hang.”
Joy smiled. “That’s a fun place. Dad took me in there a few times. It’s relatively safe. Go in the lowest entrance and don’t climb anything. You have my permission if you agree to that, okay?”
Justin shrugged.
“Sure,” Kristin said.
“Actually,” Joy said, “it’s a good time to go. You know they’re going to collapse the entrances in a few weeks. There’s a trail going in on Flattop, and they don’t want kids to wander into the mine.”
Justin hit Miguel’s shoulder. “I told you they weren’t going to mine that place again.”
“No,” Joy said. “They don’t even mine gypsum that way anymore, I don’t think. It’s all open-pit mining now.”
“He thought they were mining gold,” Justin whispered, pointing his thumb at Miguel.
Joy laughed.
Miguel kept silent.
“How many of you are going?” Joy asked.
Justin counted. “Five, unless we can ditch Ryan.”
Joy nodded. “Wait here.”
She disappeared back through the door and shut it carefully behind herself. They waited for a few minutes on the landing of the apartment. Justin moved over to the railing and looked down at Travis. He and Ryan were squatting in the gravel yard, poking at something with a stick. The building had a row of bushes near the sidewalk. Their green looked extravagant compared to the dirt and rocks that decorated most of the nearby yards. He wondered how much water the building dedicated just to keeping those things alive. Barstow was deadly to outdoor plants. Only the heartiest survived.
The door whispered open again. Joy handed out a wooden crate full of helmets and supplies. She held up one finger and disappeared. When she came back, she handed out a second box. This one had bags and ropes. She handed the second box to Miguel and then shut the door behind herself. She slipped a key in the lock and set the bolt.
“I haven’t been underground since Dad died. I’m coming too,” Joy said.
Justin bit the side of his cheek and looked over to Miguel. “We’re going to be pretty cramped in Jordan’s truck as it is,” he said.
“If the helmets and lamps are going, then I’m going,” Joy said. “Besides, I’ve got this.” She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a set of keys. The logo on the keychain read, “Jeep.”
Justin had seen the Jeep around. It had four doors and tons of seats. He looked at Miguel.
“Let’s go,” Miguel said.
Chapter Five — Excursion
FLORIDA GLANCED BACK OVER the seats. Everyone else on the bus was neatly paired with their partner. She drummed her fingers on the bar in front of her and let out a frustrated breath. When Dr. Grossman climbed the stairs and leaned in to address her, she knew what the doctor would say.
“You can come and wait at the entrance. You’ll be able to monitor the radios from there and you’ll be out of the sun,” Dr. Grossman said.
“Can’t I join one of the other teams?” Florida asked.
Dr. Grossman shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. We’re doing pairs only. The partners are responsible for each other and we have to maintain that focus, given the nature of the mission.”
Florida nodded. She understood, but it was rotten luck. No, it was worse that rotten luck, it was a rotten partner assignment. She had taken Dr. Grossman’s class as an elective outside of her major, but now she needed the damn grade. Anything less than an eighty-six and her scholarship would go into review. Scholarships never survived review, and Grossman’s students who didn’t participate in field study never got higher than an eighty. Because Dr. Grossman had paired her with the one flake of the group, Florida was going to have to take out a loan to cover tuition. It was a rotten partner assignment.
The driver started the bus.
Dr. Grossman took her seat.
Florida gathered her things. She didn’t have control over the partner assignments, but she certainly had control over her Sunday. If she couldn’t participate in the fieldwork, then she wasn’t going to waste her time spending all day at the entrance of a mine. Maybe she could spend the time thinking of a way to improve one of her other grades to compensate. It was a long shot, but that was better than no shot at all.
She stood up as the bus driver began to shut the door.
An arm shot through the gap, stopping the door from closing.
The driver opened it and the sweaty man stumbled up the steps.
Florida sat back down. Roger came to the edge of the seat and loomed over her.
“Can you scooch?”
Florida nodded and slid. She had already given up. His appearance wasn’t a relief at all. It seemed more like an inconvenience.
The bus jerked forward and he flopped down. Roger smelled even worse than he looked.
“Sorry I’m late,” Roger said across the aisle to Dr. Grossman. He turned to Florida. “Sorry.”
She shrugged.
“Whoo! I’m glad I made it. Jesus, I’m thirsty. You didn’t bring anything to drink, did you?”
She tilted her head. Of course she brought something to drink. They were all supposed to bring two bottles of water. They were going to be in the mine all day and they were responsible for their own drinks and lunch. Roger was empty-handed.
“Sorry. I don’t have anything to spare,” she said.
They bounced and jostled as the driver took the turn out onto the main road. From behind them, someone handed a bottle over the seat. Roger took it with a nod of thanks and stared at Florida as he took a sip. He handed the rest back to the owner. Florida blushed.
“Listen, Carolina, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Since we’re going to be together all day, I think…”
“Florida,” she said. “Say my name.”
“Louisiana?”
She set her jaw. “You need the money, right? Am I right? Well I need the grade. But you get my name wrong one more time, and I’m out. Guess what—if I refuse to be your partner, then you get to sit in the bus all day while the research continues without you. You sit on the bus, and Dr. Grossman isn’t going to pay you one cent. So you say my name or you just wasted a Sunday.” She narrowed her eyes and stared him down.
He folded his lips and looked at his hands. “Florida.”
“That’s right. Don’t fuck it up.”
He looked her in the eyes and seemed to study her. The scrutiny was a hard to bear, but she didn’t look away. He gave her a little nod.
“Nice to meet you, Florida,” he said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the paper Dr. Grossman had given them. It had been folded and creased to oblivion. The numbers were barely readable. “I didn’t have any luck memorizing these,” he said. “I have a what you might call a learning problem, especially with numbers.”
She sighed and looked out the window. Civilization was already giving way to desert out there. They were leaving the oasis and traveling into the land of sand and heat.
“But I made these,” Roger said. He reached in his pocket again and pulled out cards. The numbers were written large and the cards had been sealed with packing tape a
s a crude form of lamination. “I made you a set too, in case it’s hard to read the paper in low light, you know?” He held out a set of cards.
She nodded and took them. The gesture seemed nice until she touched the cards and felt the clammy sweat on them. She did her best to hide her disgust. “Thank you.”
She returned her attention to the window.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“Follow your flags. Report your positions. Execute with your instruments. Record your measurements. Any questions?”
Roger raised his hand. “Bathroom?”
Dr. Grossman rolled her eyes. “Again, leave nothing on the site. Come with me.”
Roger left to follow Dr. Grossman. Florida wandered over to where a few of the pairs had clustered.
A skinny little guy had everyone’s attention. “Of course, I’m the skeptic, but I will say that I read an account of a proximate-six inhabitation from last year’s study.”
“Six?” a young woman asked.
The skinny guy nodded.
“Austin was only a five-five. Are you sure it was a six?”
He nodded even more vigorously. “Yup. Pure six. They had everything—psychological alteration, physical evidention, a climbing Hoffman delta.”
The others seemed shocked. The skinny guy kept nodding and smiling.
“Your numbers don’t mean anything,” a voice said from a little distance.
Florida turned and saw one of the other guys from her orientation group. It was Aaron. Next to him, his field partner Kevin was looking embarrassed to be with him.
“The numbers are what we’re here for,” the young woman said. The skinny guy smirked.
“I was in there last year. I saw the team that registered the six. Do you know where that team is now?”
“Where?” the skinny guy asked. He squared his shoulders to Aaron and practically dared him for the answer.
“The authorities don’t know. Their parents don’t know,” Aaron said.
“Right,” the skinny guy said.
