“Sit right here while I investigate.” Lilly removed her pack and set it beside the girl. She patted a small boulder that seemed fairly stable and unlikely to go tearing down the ridge with Natasha clinging desperately to its bumpy surface. Lilly shook her head, dispelling the terrifying vision.
Natasha sat without incident.
That left only one course of action, since the boulder was behaving and no squirrels had charged out intent upon attack. Lilly gulped down a fortifying breath and approached the small cave. It was quite narrow. She crouched low and eased along the rocky shaft. Shale crunched under her tennis shoes and the stormy afternoon light faded from view. Lilly pulled her headlamp out of a side pocket and saw that the tunnel proceeded forward but at a diameter of miniscule proportions. She hunkered lower and lower until she was bent over double and her back flared with pain. Finally, she sank to the rocky floor and continued at a crawl.
The sound of a shuddering breath up ahead made her freeze. “Emily?” A sob broke the silence, but no one answered her query. Either a very sad bear lived in the cave, or Emily was not deigning to speak with her. The tunnel zigged to the right and a lumpy outcropping of stone made the turn impassable for adult-sized persons. Even adults of Lilly’s stature. Why had she traumatized the smallest student in their group and not one of her taller companions who would be easier to find?
“I’m sorry that my statistics were so traumatizing for you. Will you come out, please?”
Silence.
Lilly pressed her forehead against the rock. What am I supposed to do, Lord? I’m too big to squeeze through and the girl is too stubborn to come out. I’m the worst hiking chaperone of all time. I’ve got nothing, no ideas, no applicable charts, not even a handy formula for prying reluctant tweens out of rocky enclosures. If we don’t get off the glacier before dark, the snow will freeze up and we’ll all slide down the mountainside to our collective doom. Please do something!
Silence.
Then Lilly heard a muffled woof. She froze and her heart seemed to tumble to a stop, before slowly, agonizingly, renewing its frightened thumping against her ribcage. There was indeed one hiker who was small enough to get Emily. But no, this ridiculous realization could not be a message from the Lord.
Firstly, it was a foolish thought and Lilly was no fool. Eliciting Strudel’s assistance would mean revealing his presence, and God most certainly did not want that to happen. Secondly, it would be unnecessarily embarrassing as Strudel’s beautiful coat was matted with all manner of flora and fauna, including but not limited to, lichen and pinecones and bugs. Thirdly, admitting that she, the leader, had broken the rules and smuggled along a pet would squelch the children’s respect for authority figures, sending them irrevocably down the terrible road to delinquency and lifelong prison.
Lilly backed out of the cavern, shuddering as the image of a faded sepia photo flashed through her mind’s eye. Nine children in black and white garb all chained together as they trudged through a stunted field of wheat wielding pick axes. Why they needed pick axes for the wheat, Lilly was not certain, but even their soulful singing and remarkable rhythm could not dispel the sense of sorrow on their faces at this terrible fate.
Lilly felt every vertebra as she unfolded her body from its scrunched position and managed to stand. The storm had increased its intensity and she kept one hand on the rocks to steady herself as she slunk across the ridgeline and plopped down on the boulder next to Natasha.
She looked down at her hands and saw that they were shaking in the uncertain light and driving hail. Surely it was a simple reaction to her relief at finding the girl. It had nothing to do with the false guilt that pressed against her lungs and clawed so alarmingly at her throat.
No, God’s plan would make sense when He revealed it. This passing fancy, this fabulous rabbit trail of ridiculousness, had nothing to do with God. God was wise and all knowing, strong and capable and fully able to save any number of foolish children without the use of a small furry dog with pinecones tangled in his hair. No, she would await the real plan and not be troubled by every wild thought that flew through her mind in times of peril.
Lilly’s hands continued to shake and her legs wobbled. She pressed a palm to her thumping heart and leaned back against the wet wall of stone that slanted up behind them.
Natasha seemed fidgety and in need of a job, though.
“Would you please run and tell Mr. Calvert that I’ve found Emily? Perhaps he can devise a scheme to get her out.”
The girl flung her braid over her shoulder and fairly flew to find their fearless leader.
Lilly let her head thump back against the cool stone. Mr. Calvert would have a plan. A better plan. God’s real plan.
Tristian crawled inside the tunnel and began an intense conversation that included the phrase “Come out now!” at various volumes and tones of voice, but it was ineffectual. Offering free granola bars and the chance to pick the celebratory snack on the drive home from Lake Chelan (presuming they actually made it before school started on Tuesday) did not work.
Lilly’s stomach shrank tighter and tighter. The one individual who could for sure squeeze past that tight corner and reach the weeping girl beyond, kept scratching around inside his purse. Lilly nudged Strudel with her elbow to silence him.
Emily was the smallest of the nine children, not even Cloe could fit past that rocky jig in the tunnel.
Lilly paced back and forth across the windswept ridge. She sent up pithy prayers filled with snarky comments and no small amount of whining. Acid gurgled in her stomach and crept up her throat. The weight on her chest increased and her mind churned with worrisome images.
Emily left to freeze inside the cave whilst the rest of them hiked to retrieve a jackhammer. Emily, attacked by an army of marmots and angry squirrels in the night. Emily, alone and crying for help as winter set in and filled the cavern entrance with ice and a rampaging family of yeti. OK, fine God. Have it Your way. It wasn’t the most reverent prayer she had ever uttered. But a wash of peace settled over her. Lilly took her first deep breath in an hour and felt the knotted up muscles in her back ease. She stomped over to the cave entrance.
Tristian’s feet stuck out and his voice echoed back. His tone had begun to show the ragged edges of panic.
“Mr. Calvert? Tristian, I have an idea.”
Tristian scrambled backwards, sending a small slide of rocks tumbling down the hillside behind them. He emerged covered in dust, and glowering. Oh, this did not look good. What would he think of her when—the muscles in her back seized up and her stomach ached with alarm. No, she knew the right course. She and Strudel must plunge ahead.
Unable to properly explain her plan in the face of Tristian’s scowling visage, Lilly pulled off her pack and set it on the slope beside her. She opened the dog purse and Strudel leapt into her arms yipping with delight and wagging furiously.
Gasps echoed all around her and eight children leapt forward to pat the furry stowaway.
Lilly ignored the ruckus she had caused, set her little dog down at the cave entrance, and picked up a fir cone she had found in a wooded area a little ways back. She bent and tossed the fir cone into the tunnel.
Strudel yipped and plunged into the cavern, his little paws scrambling across the stone in his eagerness to attack the scary thing she had tossed. Fierce growls and the final death throes of the fir cone could be heard coming from the darkness.
Then, “Puppy! Where did you come from? Are you lost? Are you scared? Mr. Calvert, there’s a little lost doggy in here. I’m coming out. I think he needs help. He’s limping!”
Lilly shook her head. Strudel had hurt that paw chasing the wet wipes in the trail yesterday. But it was a blessing. Even someone as upset as Emily could not resist an injured animal, despite the fact that this injury was caused by grabbing a sanitizing wipe and running around the toilet so quickly that the aforementioned animal tripped over a roll of TP and fell headlong into a fearsome length of log.
19<
br />
Glacier Gliding
Emily scooted out of the cave with Strudel clutched close against her chest. The other children swarmed around her, patting Strudel and pulling at all the pine needles and bits of bark that had become snarled in his long silky fur. Strudel wriggled up under Emily’s chin and proceeded to slurp her face with his lightning tongue. Much giggling and petting ensued.
Tristian leaned his hip against the cave entrance and raised an eyebrow. “Now I see why you needed the purple purse.” He shook his head and glanced at the sky where the spitting bits of hail were being joined by a tearing wind and huge rolling piles of dark clouds. “Could this small stowaway have anything to do with all those wet wipes that were mysteriously scattered across the forest for passing bears to snack on? How many of you knew about this dog?”
A blush heated Lilly’s cheeks. The short but intense silence that followed was broken by all the boy campers crowding around Lilly to stand tall next to her. Mason stepped forward. “She’s had him the whole time, Mr. Calvert, but he hasn’t caused any trouble at all, not really. Nothing fatal, at least.”
“And how do you know this?” Tristian’s scowl increased from drizzly day to thunderclouds and high winds expected.
“Oh, I spotted him the first day. The guys and I have been keeping an eye out for him. You know, whenever her tent falls into a creek or anything.”
Ah, so these were her guardian angels. The same scoundrels who had filled her classroom with elaborate tooting noises and maliciously chewed gum had also rescued Strudel from the clutches of the sinking tent.
Lilly shot Mason a quick smile and then turned to face Tristian. “I couldn’t find a dog sitter and—”
“Can we slide down?” Logan glanced over his shoulder at Lilly and Tristian, his rear end already hovering over a coat that he’d spread out on the glacier. Lilly’s breath caught in her throat. Her ears registered the word “slide” at the same time her gaze took in the fabulously steep slope that plunged all the way to the upper Lyman lakes far, far below.
Lilly charged forward, flinging her body between Logan and the terrifying toboggan run of doom. “No! No you may not.” She waved her arms for emphasis and shot the boy her very best glare.
“Miss Park is right, Logan. People die every year trying to glacade down Mt. Stuart and other mountains featuring sloped ice. There are sometimes rocks at the bottom and the glacaders get going too fast and smash straight into them. And that is using an ice ax and proper technique. Simply sliding down the glacier would be incredibly foolish.”
“I don’t see any rocks,” Logan mumbled, glancing down the slope.
“I don’t either, but it’s hard to know what might pop up in your path. Let’s not.”
Logan snatched up his coat and both Mason and Juan who had joined him, followed suit. Apparently, all three had been ready to launch themselves off the mountain at a moment’s notice. What on earth was wrong with these boys? Lilly kept herself between them and the edge, just in case.
“Now, about this dog . . .” Tristian ran his fingers through his hair, pausing to press the heels of his hands against his forehead as though some brilliant solution to carrying a small dog down the glacier might present itself with time.
“Oh, please, can I carry him?” Emily clung to Strudel, burying her face in his mop of fur.
Lilly opened her mouth to protest, but the girl’s words piled on top of each other, too fast to interrupt.
“I could rig a sling from my coat. Here let me show you. He’d be totally safe. I just can’t let him go, Miss Park. You saw how he came after me in that mine. And look, he’s wagging. You see him wagging, right? He wants to be with me, don’t you, you adorable, little angel-faced cutie pie!” At the word “cutie pie” Emily rubbed noses with Strudel and he responded with a fresh attack of doggy kisses. The girl laughed and stumbled over a small rock. It wasn’t much, only an oversized pebble. But the stone was just large enough to make her wobble and plop down onto her coat, which she had spread out on the snow in order to display her amazing doggy sling idea. Emily thumped onto the coat, laughing and hugging Strudel. The coat skittered to the side taking Emily and Strudel with it.
Lilly flinched and lunged forward.
Three sets of Jr. High gazes rolled skyward and three long-suffering sighs met her ears. Mason, Juan, and Logan seemed less than impressed with her concern.
OK, fine. Perhaps she was hovering a bit more thoroughly than twelve-year-old students were accustomed to. Lilly put her hands behind her back before they could wrap themselves around Emily and cause her to keel over from the mortification of having been forcefully rescued from the dangers of a small pebble.
Emily’s coat oozed forward just a smidge.
Lilly flinched but managed to contain herself.
Emily laughed as she struggled to rise while clutching Strudel close. She braced a foot against the icy bank and pushed up. The coat twitched sideways at the movement. Emily fell back, landing with a giggle on the neon jacket. Inexplicably, the same waterproof coat that had barely twitched a moment before, shot down the glacier.
Tristian lunged, his fingertips just brushing through the long silky hair on Strudel’s tail.
Lilly stared at the shadowed patch of ice where Emily and Strudel had just been. Gone, the girl and dog were gone. Just like that. She hadn’t even had time to embarrass them with a fabulous rescue, although Tristian had given it a good try.
Emily’s coat zipped across the snow, the water-resistant fabric emitting a high-pitched whine as it hurtled ever downward. Emily’s screams were, if possible, even higher.
Lilly thought she heard a few panicked yips and one long wobbly howl.
The coat gained speed by the second, taking both girl and dog down the icy mountain, straight toward the alpine lakes below.
20
A Brilliant Turquoise Death Trap
Lilly stared down the steep slope, a silent scream clogging her throat.
Emily and Strudel plunged out of reach.
She put a hand over her heart, ran in a little circle looking for some brilliant child and dog retrieval apparatus, gasped out a squeaky scream, and then noticed her own coat lying by her feet. Before her brain had a chance to properly engage, Lilly snatched up the coat, threw it down behind her, and plopped her derriere upon the makeshift sled.
Tristian’s shout of horror awakened Lilly to the reality of her situation. What am I thinking? I’m not thinking! Not at all. I always think. Why brain? Why fail me now, at this vitally important juncture? She gripped the edges of her coat and dug her heels into the icy glacier. Snow sprayed up in an arch, splatting across her face. Instead of slowing her, the pressure from her heels whipped her around backwards and seemed to actually increase her speed. Lilly flew down the glacier, blind and backwards and completely out of control.
As she picked up speed, the coat beneath her made a tortured humming squeal and the icy wind yanked through her hair throwing it over her eyes in a twisting snarl. The slope was not completely smooth and small dips and bumps flung her about. Each time she clutched at the coat, half hoping that she might stop, but also realizing that such a stop would mean a terrible bone-snapping crash that she was loathe to experience firsthand.
I should fling myself onto the snow, stopping my descent. Lilly couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, her mind brought up horrible images of scraping and tumbling, snapping bones and a punctured lung, snow burns slashing across her face and body, and perhaps even breaking off one of her front teeth in an unsightly manner. Oh, this was going to hurt.
What if there were rocks? As that thought paraded its way through her mind, a particularly large dip flung Lilly into the air as though she were a hapless skier attempting her first jump. She landed hard, the air whooshed from her lungs and her fingers loosened their death-grip. The coat wobbled. Despite the bone-rattling landing, she landed coat first and although her tailbone ached and her rear was uncommonly sore, she zipped on.
As she
raced backwards down the mountain, ice soaked her back, apparently accumulated from all the spraying snow that her rapid descent had flung upon her. Lilly finally flipped her mess of hair out of her eyes and caught a glimpse of Tristian glacading after them using his ice ax to steer. Would he catch them in time?
Another bump flung Lilly around. She landed facing forward and instantly wished she were still blind. Their impending peril approached at incredible speed and in the form of a glorious turquoise lake. Lilly hadn’t realized lakes came in such a brilliant greenish blue. Perhaps this was evidence of the glacial flour she had heard about on the podcast she’d downloaded in a desperate attempt to educate herself about all things wilderness during the drive to the trailhead. The glacier’s slowly shifting ice ground the rock into a fine powder that colored the waters a fine aqua hue. The sight had an unearthly beauty and normally she would have whipped out her camera and snapped ten million stunning photos. Instead she gasped out a cry of dismay and slammed her eyes shut.
A narrow strip of glacier twisted all the way down to the water. One of two things would befall Emily and Strudel, and Lilly herself, in the very near future. Either they would skid off the snow and crash to a stop on the rocky soil of the mountainside or they would continue down that thin bit of ice and plunge headlong into the glacier-fed lake.
“Strudel can’t swim.” Lilly gasped out to no one in particular. At least she had never seen him swim. She wasn’t in a habit of tossing him into rivers and deep bathtubs to fend for himself either. Lilly clutched the coat tighter even though the ice that hurtled beneath cut her fingers until they bled. She glanced at the rocky ground. Then again, she hadn’t exactly made a habit of throwing her small dog at rocky bits of landscaping from a moving vehicle either. Neither option seemed ideal. What had been wrong with spending the long weekend on the couch with a cup of mint cocoa and a nice pie chart, again?
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