Evil Heights, Book IV: In the Pit

by Michael Swanson

  Lee gave her his “Is that all” look.

  "Go on.” She turned her back. “Get out of here."

  CHAPTER TWELVE: THE CAVE

  Lee ran back outside, the force of the growing gusts surprising him when he opened the door. Quickly, he was back at the hole and had slid into the entrance to the cave. Switching on the flashlight, he shone the light all around making a quick survey. It was really just a big hollow in the rock, nothing special. He had to admit that he had allowed himself, for a moment, to believe he might find a chest of pirate gold or a stolen Union payroll.

  Lee jumped, startled when he heard a sharp noise come from away down in the darkness. Taking turns between shining the light at his feet and exploring off ahead, he moved out of the little chamber and down into a naturally rough hewn corridor.

  There was a bend to the right where the tunnel narrowed, but he was able to fit through. He led the way with the flashlight and then pulled himself after it. He almost jumped out of his skin when he first saw wiry, black shadows covering every square inch of rock. It must have been millions of them, Daddy Long Legs spiders, clinging to and creeping over everything. Flapjack was on the floor, gobbling as greedily as he could get them down his beak.

  "That's why you haven't been eating your food lately,” he said to the busy duck, and was startled by the creepy hollowness of his own voice as it echoed in the dark.

  Lee flashed the light around, even overhead. There wasn't an inch of the tunnel that didn't teem with the spindly, long legged insects. Almost as though they had a purpose, each one was bouncing up and down on its long, hair-thin legs making the walls appear to seethe. Suddenly he remembered the trees, the night he'd been expecting Phoebe to come to his room. “That's what made the trees look alive,” he realized. The trees were crawling with Daddy Long Legs. Flapjack could eat for a hundred years in here and never make a dent in the population.

  "Come on boy, we've gotta get out of here,” he said. “A storm's coming. We'll do us some real exploring tomorrow."

  Lee flashed the light around again, more in awe of the spiders than anything. When he'd been about seven or eight years old, back when Maggie would still go camping, they had spent a long weekend at Canyon Lake National Campgrounds. One evening, spiders exactly like these had come pouring out of the rocks just at sunset. Lee and his dad had laid down side by side, and let the harmless but creepy insects swarm all over them. It was like laying down in a tickle machine.

  The fond memory reminded him of his dad, who would be home any minute. Maggie was already crabby. If he came in late and dirty and the dinner was on the table, she'd be pissed.

  Lee really was excited to go explore, but he knew it'd be better to go ahead and wait until tomorrow when he'd have the whole day. He called out again, “Come on, Flapjack."

  The duck looked at him briefly and then went back to his gobbling.

  "Alright, stay here and eat spiders,” he said. Then alone, he worked his way back to the world outside.

  Lee had been lucky, his dad was late getting home.

  He'd had time to get cleaned up and changed. He'd even sat with Patty and listened to a little Elvis. He could listen a thousand times in a row to “Jailhouse Rock” and never get tired of it.

  Maggie hated Elvis. Actually she hated rock and roll. She always said Elvis didn't sing, he mumbled like he had a mouthful of mush. She even went so far as to say she didn't think he was handsome either. She said he looked dopey, like he'd forgotten what he was going to say.

  Ted, still in his blue work shirt, had just pulled the chair under him when he asked Lee very matter of factly, “Where'd you get that shiner, son?"

  "I fell down.” Lee used his standard excuse concentrating on getting a good scoop of greens.

  His dad nodded and speared himself a pork chop.

  Maggie was waiting impatiently, that line drawn across her lips. “Now Ted, you're not going to believe for a minute he really fell down and somehow hit himself on the eye?"

  Lee looked up at his dad. It'd been his dad who had told him of more than one fight he'd had as a boy, and when asked by his father, he'd always said he'd fallen down.

  "Well, I think we just need to remind Lee to be more careful, honey,” Ted said buttering a biscuit. “You're okay aren't you?"

  Lee nodded.

  Ted took a bite of biscuit and talked as he chewed. “He's okay, honey."

  Maggie hadn't taken any food yet. “He's been back outside diggin’ in that hole again."

  Lee seized the initiative. “Dad, I broke through the rock! There's a cave down there!"

  "A cave?” Patty echoed.

  "It's so keen,” Lee nodded to Patty, then looked back at Maggie. “That's why I needed the flashlight. I went down in it. You won't guess what's in, never in a thousand years."

  Nobody tried to guess.

  "Spiders!” Lee raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Zillions of ‘em."

  "Eww!” Patty squealed.

  Maggie finally took a scoop of greens. “That's all we needed. We've got a big mud pit out back filled with spiders. Ted, I can't believe you told him he could dig up my backyard."

  Not even Patty could have missed the way she said “my."

  "What about the hurricane?” Ted changed the subject. “I heard on the car radio coming home, they think now it may hit anywhere from Pensacola to Mobile. It's just sitting out there off shore in the Gulf building up steam."

  "What's a hurricane, Daddy?” Patty asked.

  Ted reached over and began cutting up her pork chop for her. “It's a really big storm that swirls around like this.” He raised the knife and drew it around in the air in a circle, then went back to cutting. “It has lots of rain and winds that can blow more than a hundred miles an hour. And you know what?"

  Patty's eyes were wide. “What?"

  "It has an eye in the center."

  "It does not.” Patty turned to Maggie. “Momma, hurricanes don't really have eyes?"

  "Yes they do, baby.” Maggie said, now having been reluctantly drawn into the conversation. “But only one and it's in the center."

  "Can it see us?” Patty asked.

  "No, Squirt,” Lee joined in, eager to demonstrate what he knew. “The storm whirls around in the sea, sucking up heat as it moves along. As it swirls around, a hole forms in the center where it's calm, that's the eye."

  Patty looked to her dad for confirmation. “Is that true?"

  Ted nodded as his mouth was too full to talk.

  "This one is really early since it's only July,” Lee continued enthusiastically. “But it's supposed to be a big one."

  Patty kept her eyes on Lee. “I'm scared of storms."

  Maggie tucked her napkin in under her chin. “Don't worry, baby, eat your food. It's in the ocean, and that's a long way away."

  Ted swallowed. “You should have seen the parking lot at the grocery store when I was coming home. It looked like they were giving the stuff away."

  Maggie was having a hard time trying to cut her pork chop while holding her fork with her bandaged hand. “People are such idiots.” Maggie came back crossly. “They'll buy all this stuff, and then what will they do with it. I mean, I can see if you've got a beach house or live near the water that's one thing. But really, what's someone going to do with a case of batteries or a freezer full of T.V. dinners?"

  "Hurricanes can move at up to thirty or forty miles an hour.” Ted offered. “Once it makes up its mind where it wants to go, people better lookout, it can cover a lot of ground. I can see your point with the T.V. dinners, but it's good to stock up on basic necessities."

  Everyone looked out the front window. It was just after seven, normally the sky would still be bright, but they'd already had to turn the lights on, and the trees out front could be seen tossing around.

  "How are we doing for stuff?” Ted asked.

  "I went to the store Saturday,” Maggie replied. “The pantry is pretty much full, and we've got lots of meat."
/>   Ted grimaced. “If we lose electricity the meat's not going to do us any good."

  "I can at least cook it on the stove,” Maggie came back. “It's gas."

  Lee was becoming wrapped up in the conversation. All this talk of storms and provisions was exciting.

  Patty though, just looked scared.

  Maggie pointed around to a couple of the antique lamps she'd left on the walls. “Those are kerosene lamps. Do you think we have any kerosene?"

  "I'll look in the garage after dinner,” Ted replied. “What about water?"

  Even Maggie seemed to be becoming excited. “We're not on city water here. It all comes from our well."

  Ted cleaned the last of his plate, mopping it up with a biscuit. “The problem is the same as the refrigerator, if we lose electricity, we lose the pump."

  "There's a manual pump in the crawl space.” Maggie replied. “I remember Daddy using it once when I was little."

  Ted scooted his chair out. “We'll be okay then. And the holding tank holds two hundred gallons. That'll last us quite a while."

  Lee looked down and found that his plate was empty too. He'd been so caught up he hadn't even noticed he'd been shoveling it in. “Is the hurricane coming? For sure?"

  Ted held up his hands. “This conversation has gotten way out of hand. We don't have anything to worry about here in Lenoir. It's the people on the coast somewhere who are going to take the pounding."

  "Where you goin’ then, Dad,” Lee asked, as his dad ambled to the door rubbing his stomach.

  "It wouldn't hurt to just go check in the garage and see if we have any kerosene."

  And as Lee was taking the last of the dinner dishes into the kitchen, his dad had returned with a big red can.

  After Lee had done the dishes, as Maggie couldn't with her bandaged hand, it was exciting to help fill the lamps. Lee helped his dad take down each one of the lamps, and they took them out onto the front porch. Using a funnel, they filled the clear glass bases with kerosene.

  Lee commented on the red color of the kerosene. “Looks like Kool-aid, Dad."

  "I've had to siphon the stuff before,” Ted replied, filling the last one. He grimaced. “I can tell you it sure doesn't taste like Kool-aid."

  Once they had the lamps back inside and in their holders on the walls, Patty had wanted to try them out, but Maggie had said no.

  As they all sat down together for the evening there was no mistaking there seemed to be a certain electricity in the air. By eight, it was becoming truly dark, and the swirling clouds had this milky, green look, unlike anything Lee had ever seen.

  The reception on the T.V. was awful. The picture swirled in and out, ghosting and flickering. When Lee asked what the problem was his dad said it was the antenna being blown about. He half suggested he and Lee go out and see if hey could take it down, but Maggie steadfastly said it was too dangerous with the wind blowing as it was.

  Patty had grown exceptionally quiet. Once she had changed into her pajamas, she snuggled into her dad and looked more out of the window than at the T.V.

  Lee, of course, had his eye on the clock.

  The lead story on the news was about Hurricane Carla. Mart Johnson came on first tonight, as the storm was the lead story. Using air reconnaissance photos he showed that the storm had moved up near the coast in the afternoon. With his pointer, he motioned out how it had moved east, then veered west and now the eye was just twenty miles off shore, but again stationary. The winds and rains were lashing the coast as the storm was just sitting there and growing in strength. He recommended that everyone tune in at 6:00 am when they came back on the air for an update on the movements throughout the night.

  Yawning, Ted peeled Patty out from under his arm. “I think it's time for us to get to bed."

  "I'm tired, too,” Lee answered quickly. He'd been sweating it that it hadn't yet rained. He doubted Phoebe would come if it was pouring outside.

  Patty appeared quite alert. “Can I sleep with y'all tonight?"

  Ted gathered her up, scooping her up off the couch. “Sure baby.” He was walking down the hall, Patty in his arms and Maggie trailing along behind, when Lee heard him say, “You know it's funny Patty, but I always sleep like a log during a storm."

  "You get the lights, Lee,” Maggie called back.

  When Lee heard they had all gone into the back bedroom, he turned off the porch light, then the family room lights, and ran down the hall to his room.

  Lee looked around. He'd made his bed earlier in the evening and in anticipation of Phoebe's visit he straightened up some. Leaving his light on, he went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth again for the third time since dinner. Tip-toeing as he crossed the hall, he was elated to hear his dad was already snoring.

  It was nice that the pending storm had cooled things down quite nicely. They hadn't even turned on the attic fan at all tonight, and Lee figured it would be plenty comfortable in his room with the windows open and just the ceiling fan.

  Lee turned off his light and pulled up the blinds. It was just 11:30.

  Little by little, his eyes became accustomed to the dark. Sitting on the bed, he could see out through the screen, at the dark boughs, plunging and whipping back and forth as the wind seemed to come from any and every direction. Still, luck was holding out, and it hadn't rained a drop.

  Lee saw a shape come up to the window. In spite of himself, he jumped when the figure appeared, as to tell the truth, after recent events he was more than a little gun shy about the night.

  "Lee!” the voice half called, half whispered. “Lee, it's Phoebe."

  He jumped up, banging his knee on the chair he'd left sitting out in front of the desk, and the chair made quite a bit of noise as it rebounded into the desk.

  "Are you alright?” she asked.

  Lee disregarded the pain. Unlatching the top hooks that held in the screen and leaning it forward, he picked it up out of the retaining slats and let it down to the ground.

  She leaned in. “Hi."

  "Hi,” he replied.

  They stood there for a moment, the wind whipping around while they tried to figure the best way to get Phoebe inside. She tried lifting up a leg, but in the dress it was impossible. Finally, they settled on Phoebe turning her back and jumping up onto the sill, and Lee caught her shoulders and helped her in from behind. They might have been making a lot of noise, but with the wind howling about it made the perfect cover. Finally though, she was in, and able to swing her legs around, putting her feet on the floor.

  They stood apart from each other.

  "Hi,” Lee said again.

  Phoebe brushed her hair back as it was whipped all over her face. “Hi,” she repeated.

  "Here, let me.” Lee scooted past to reach outside. He picked up the screen, actually sticking his head outside for a moment before sliding the base back into place and re-hooking the hooks.

  "Mosquitoes,” he said.

  Phoebe was standing in the center of his room still brushing back her hair. “I don't think you'll have to worry about any mosquitoes tonight,” she whispered, “There's way too much wind."

  Lee turned back from the window to face her. He couldn't believe she was actually here, actually standing in his room. God, he was so nervous.

  It was dark, but he could make her out reasonably well; though if her dress was really blue he couldn't tell.

  Her knees pressed together and her hands wrung together at her waist, she looked about. “So this is your room, huh?"

  "Yeah.” Lee stepped around her. “This is my desk. Over there's the closet. Watch out for the chair.” He scooted it back in place at the front of the desk. “It's a killer."

  She suppressed a giggle. “So I heard."

  He didn't know what to do now. His heart was pounding, and he couldn't think of a thing.

  After a terribly long silence she asked, “Aren't you going to ask me to sit down?"

  He reached back for the desk chair. “Oh, yeah ... sorry."

  "
I could sit on the bed,” she offered.

  "Oh, yeah ... sorry,” he repeated himself.

  She sat down, then patted the covers. “You could come sit next to me."

  That dry mouth was back as well as that hint of brass. He kept telling himself to calm down, but every time he repeated himself or did something else stupid, he just became more flustered. Still, he managed to step over and sit down next to her.

  Phoebe had her hands crossed in her lap and even in the gloom, Lee could see she was wringing her fingers. After another long silence where he sighed at least twice, he finally thought of something.

  "Hey Phoebe, guess what?"

  She scooted in a little more until her knee touched his. “I don't know, what?"

  "I found my pants."

  "Your what?"

  "You know,” he whispered. “My cut offs."

  "No,” she said, almost too loudly, and immediately put her hand to her mouth. “Where?"

  "Last weekend in the river.” He got up and took a single step over to the desk. “They were stuck on a branch."

  Luckily, he couldn't see Phoebe's frown when he got up.

  He opened the drawer and fished around inside. He felt around recognizing lots of junk. At last he had it. It was in the back corner. Next to it, he felt the spearhead, so he took it out as well.

  He wrapped his fingers around the spearhead and carefully picked it up. “Look at this."

  Even in the dark, the heavy piece of quartz seemed to shine, as if resonating with a light all its own.

  Lee sat back down on the bed and put it in her lap.

  Phoebe picked it up and turned it round, running her finger flatly over the smooth, hard angles.

  "Careful,” Lee admonished. “It's sharp."

  She turned it over carefully, then handed it back. “It's beautiful, Lee."

  "And here,” he said, accepting back the stone and opening his other hand. “I have this for you."

  Phoebe had to move in closely to see what he held out in his palm. She picked it up gingerly. “A ring?"