by Nancy Widrew
She intuited him debating the significance of his promise and realized her future depended on the intangible. She held her breath. When he continued on—the candle relit—her shoulders slumped in relief.
Randy arrived at a junction where one path fed into another like a major intersection in a city. With his hand, he felt for a gap overhead. Finding it, he hoisted himself up and through. Karen watched from behind using all her senses to keep track.
She took a moment to turn around. Since she was not using a string, she checked out each connecting link with an about-face to prevent getting lost. She did this repeatedly knowing she would be returning from the opposite direction and would have to be able to recognize the signposts from a different perspective. She noted unusual shapes in the formations and where necessary she scratched nicks with a fingernail or the toe of her shoe.
Imitating Randy, she flexed the muscles in her arms, climbed inside the hole, and headed up the small pocket embedded with rocks and strategically placed notches, making for an easy ascent. Still, not taking anything for granted, she mouthed a thank you while pressing her face to the ground upon arrival, tasting the loose dirt on her tongue. She didn’t bother to spit it out; she had swallowed worse and no longer cared.
The next test came too soon. Finding herself on a ledge with her legs dangling freely, she told herself not to panic. It worked until her imagination soared and she glimpsed her body sprawled out in a bottomless pit, just as she did in her waking dream, the night before her descent into this wretched place, many months ago.
She thought of the baby and asked herself why she was risking its life as well as her own. But the moment passed and she ordered herself onward. Standing up, she placed both palms at her side and leaned against the wall until she could feel her spine from her buttocks to her neck, and continued on, side-stepping one foot at a time.
Just ahead, Randy reached out and walked off into space. Thinking the worst had happened, Karen’s jaw dropped, her body swayed, and she fell to her knees. Then realizing he had merely crossed over to another ledge, she slumped into a small heap until her pulse returned to normal.
Afraid of losing him, she willed her fear into a metaphorical locked box and proceeded to where he had just so effortlessly stepped across. Extending her arms, she too jumped from the ledge, her feet touching ground before she realized they did. She stamped down, savoring the feel and security of solid earth, and whispered words of congratulations to herself. With her head held high, she marched on, a heroine battling to win, battling for survival.
She moved automatically, using the most primitive part of her brain since the jagged rocks, both small and large along this horizontal rim, could poke out an eye or break a bone. If she thought too hard she’d give in to fear or fatigue. Still, she hoped Randy would stop and rest, and as if her thoughts were contagious, he began to slow down before coming to a complete halt.
Although happy for the break, Karen couldn’t afford the luxury of filling her lungs to capacity. Randy had stopped singing and any sound might signal her presence. Carefully, she peered around a corner to further access the situation, watching as he moved the candle from hand to hand, trying to decide where to place it. Then putting it between his teeth, he headed straight up the perfectly smooth wall as effortlessly as a common cockroach.
Karen blinked in confusion, wondering how he had accomplished this near-impossible feat. Randy had never given any indication of insect-like mutations.
She waited until it was safe and went over to discover the trick. Touching the wall, she felt a pasty substance across its surface, uniform as if it were painted on with a roller. Perhaps Jon had been here, leaving behind a residue, or perhaps it was Rahm. She had heard rumors about him too.
Having no choice, she succumbed to her physical needs and sucked in a full tank of air before starting up. The adhesive was strong enough to prevent falling while pliable enough to allow her to climb. At the top was a narrow tunnel which continued uphill at a thirty-degree incline. She walked, attempted to run but couldn’t since a steady ache had settled in her arms and legs, and alternated with jolts of searing pain. When a long spasm hit her lower back, she dropped to the ground, helpless. Stifling a moan, she flipped over and lay flat. The spasm ended, but exhaustion won. In addition, her throat burned and she tasted salt on her parched lips.
She desperately needed fluids, but with none available, her eyes closed and her body grabbed the one essential it could: rest. Within seconds, she was floating on a lake and her brother, laughing mischievously, waded over and splashed her face. Go away or I’ll tell Mom, she told the bratty creature. Ignoring the threat, he did it again. Something registered inside Karen’s subconscious brain and she licked her mouth, now surprisingly wet. The miracle awakened her, and she reached up to touch a sprinkling of drops.
Hope restored, she searched for the welcome fissure, knowing it was nearby. She pawed with her fingers and found the spot, opening it further, allowing a stream of precious liquid through. She cupped her hands and drank enough to fill her dream lake, noting the taste of recent rainwater, heavenly and normal. Encouraged by her progress, her eyes brightened, her mouth curved upward.
Hearing a noise—the clanging, ringing, scraping sound of metal on metal—she rushed forward. Jeremy had mentioned something about ladders: a series of them closer to the top. Just find the first, he had said. While she would have loved to go all the way up, see the sky, she knew Randy might be heading back with the vegetables by now; might only be a few levels above. She drummed her foot, debating with herself, looked at her watch and blanched. There was no choice; she had to return. It was getting late.
About to leave, she swung at the waist, but the earth, now soaked from the wide-open fissure, had become a sloppy, slippery mess, and her arms flailed out as her feet left the ground. She tumbled sideways, sparing the baby but bruising a hip. While she wasn’t seriously hurt, the suddenness of it startled her, and before she could stop herself a scream escaped her lips, followed be a “Dammit!” It was only a quick scream and a single word; still, it was enough.
Randy, just as Karen feared, was on his way back, but worse than she had imagined, he was only one level above, and having tired of singing had heard the hubbub and recognized the voice. In a flash, it came to him and two and two became four. Furious, he threw the candle down the gaping hole, separating the two levels.
Karen, within range of the thud, went to check. Her foot struck the waxy object, and realizing what it was, she gulped repeatedly. She picked it up and rolled it between her fingers, not sure how this unfortunate complication—a mere accident, perhaps?—would affect her and Jeremy’s impending getaway. Just how much did Randy suspect? Please God, she silently begged, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. Let everything be okay. She sent out a series of clicks.
Above, Randy sat, holding his head, the picture of despair.
Chapter 23
Boots, back arched and ready to spring, chased a werewolf, honked like a speckled dodo bird, and swam the Chesapeake Bay while Karen slept and dreamt throughout the night, morning, and afternoon, nursing a headache and sore muscles. Still, she made it to Randy’s birthday party. As Janet brought out the cake, everyone clapped and sang an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Karen sat back, watching as Jon, unable to hold back his excitement, jumped up and down, while Randy sat in silence.
Rachel lit the candles. “I put one extra in the center for good luck. That’s thirteen in all. And now young man”—she gestured toward Randy—“take a big breath and blow.”
As directed, Randy rose, puffed out his cheeks, and leaned over the cake.
“Stop,” said Rachel, freezing the moment. “Don’t forget to make a wish.”
He tweaked his nose. “I’ve got nothing to wish for.”
“Ridiculous,” said Brian. “I heard you got your own bedroom. Congratulations. You’re growing up.”
The mood around the table grew increasingly somber as Randy’
s lack of enthusiasm peaked. Karen mouthed a silent thank you to Mary, who stood up in an attempt to turn things around.
Having spoken to Jeremy earlier that day, she was aware of the possible chink in the escape plan. Now there was no telling who knew what. As an immediate diversion, she grabbed the knife from Janet, told her to sit, and began cutting the cake. “You get the first slice,” she said to the birthday boy, passing it down the table.
Randy stabbed at the cream-filled layers with his fork and put a bite in his mouth. Karen winced, noting that even a special treat didn’t bring on a smile.
After eating less than half his piece, he pushed the remainder to Jon, then stalked off, scowling like an athlete who lost the game.
“What’s with him?” said Rachel. “He’s been like this since he returned with the zucchini yesterday.”
She turned to Rahm, sitting somberly, his index finger and thumb tugging his chin, exposing two rows of teeth, bone white and menacing.
“I think I’d better have a word with him,” he replied, pushing back his chair.
“No wait,” said Karen. She shot Jeremy a piercing look, trusting he’d notice. Having everyone’s attention, she said the first thing that came into her head, not caring if it sounded believable. “Jeremy’s good with kids, especially adolescents. Let him go”
Karen smiled in relief as Jeremy, apparently catching the drift, took off in pursuit before Rahm or anyone else could stop him.
#
Jeremy checked Randy’s room. Not finding him there, he suspected he’d be at his favorite place near the lake where he often went to skim stones. Randy was there, all right, but not skimming stones, merely sitting with arms across his chest, angry at the world. Rock-still, he appeared small, huddled over like a vulnerable child picked on by bullies.
“Go away,” said the boy as Jeremy approached.
Jeremy ignored the order and sat down without a word, experience telling him to wait, be patient, and let Randy fill in the silence. When he’s ready, he’ll talk, thought Jeremy, suspecting barraging him with questions and demands would only be counterproductive.
Randy blinked away tears. Embarrassed, he wiped his face, pretending it was dirt. “Everyone uses me,” he said. “First Rahm, telling me to spy on you. Then you, pretending to be my friend. And Karen. She’s worst of all. She lied to me. Said I should use candles to improve my vision when all she wanted was to find the way out.”
“Karen does care about you. I care about you. It’s just we’re desperate. We’re prisoners here!”
Randy put his fingers in his ears. “Rahm warned me about you and Karen. Told me not to trust you.”
“Rahm? He’s the last person you should trust.”
Randy took his fingers from his ears, spittle flew from his mouth. Still, Jeremy’s words caught his attention, and he sat up straight as if pulled by strings. “What do you mean? At least Rahm never lied to me.”
Jeremy shook his head and guffawed. He really did care about the boy and didn’t want to see him destroyed, but with his life on the line disclosure was his only weapon. “You want the truth. Okay, I’ll give it to you, but you won’t like what you hear.”
Randy narrowed his eyes, ready to catch any nuance of deceit.
“Your father didn’t fall from the cliff like Rahm said. He was pushed—by Rahm.”
Randy stopped breathing, stood up. “You’re lying!”
“No, I’m not,” said Jeremy, grabbing the boy by his pants and pulling him back down. “I’m sorry, but Mary told me everything. Apparently, it’s not the best kept secret. There was a fight. That part is true, but Tom lost and wanted to give up, only Rahm wouldn’t have it. He pushed your dad off the cliff, and I think if you confronted Rahm, he wouldn’t deny it. You remember Louise and Eugene?”
“Of course,” said Randy. “You think I’m stupid? Mom told me the whole story: that my dad left her for Louise.”
“Then you know that Louise wanted to go back to her husband and your dad couldn’t accept it.”
Randy closed his eyes, trying to blot out the vision. “My dad abandoned me, my brother, my mom,” he whispered. “Then killed Louise and Eugene in their sleep.”
“That’s right,” said Jeremy. “And Rahm couldn’t just let him leave. That’s why he pushed Tom—your dad—off that cliff.”
Randy considered it. “Since you think you know everything, why wouldn’t Rahm just let Dad leave?”
Jeremy sighed, pruned his words till they whittled down into a semblance of truth. “Revenge, frontier justice, but even more important he was concerned Tom would spill the beans about this place. Did you know your dad had a drinking problem, years ago, before he came here? Rahm couldn’t take a chance. He won’t let anyone leave.”
“I want to leave,” said Randy.
“What!”
“I do,” Randy repeated. “I was really mad when I figured out Karen tricked me, but then I got to thinking long and hard. You’ve both said this place is like a prison. Well, you’re right. No one ever asked me if I wanted to come. Just dragged me down. Well, I like it above. I got to ride in a car with Norman recently as one of my birthday presents and it was fun, and I miss having friends.”
Sensing a good opening, Jeremy said, “I don’t blame you.” Every boy should have friends.”
Randy nodded. “There was this kid Lenny who lived on my street years back. His mom made the best bologna sandwiches; used lots of mustard. Sometimes Lenny and me—we’d play stickball with the other neighborhood kids in an empty lot. When his dad bought him a cowhide glove, he let me try it. Just me, ’cause he said I was his friend. His best friend!”
Randy began to cry. His head fell between his knees and his body shook like a thin branch on a windy day. Jeremy placed his hand on Randy’s back, made tiny circles, trying to comfort him.
“I don’t want to turn spidery like Jon or Rahm.”
Jeremy’s mouth snaked down at the corners. “I’m confused,” he said. “I know about your brother, but what do you mean about Rahm?”
“His skin also makes sticky stuff. And threads come from his saliva. I’ve helped him turn them into rope. We mix it with dirt.”
“Threads? Rope?” Jeremy tapped his chin, thinking. “I noticed something funny the other day but didn’t touch it.”
“Probably spider rope. That’s what I call it.” Randy sucked in his lips. “I’m leaving tonight,” he said. “I’ve made up my mind, and it’s not ’cause I’m jealous of Jon’s climbing ability like some people think. I just don’t want to become a freak like him, and I will if I stay here longer. You can come with me if you want.”
Jeremy’s jaw dropped like a scaffold with broken cables. “What about your family?”
“My mother won’t notice—not much, anyway. In any case, I’m going. And there’s no way you’ll make it out without me. It’s too tricky, too dangerous, but I know a shortcut. I didn’t use it yesterday because of the candle, but I will tonight.” He paused and turned to Jeremy. “I’m like the Himalayan Sherpas. Ever hear of them?”
“Of course,” said Jeremy. “Where did you?”
“From Norman. He told me all about them. And if you want my help, you have to promise to let me live with you and Karen … till I’m older.”
“I promise,” said Jeremy, meaning it.
Final details were ironed out. Jeremy wanted to hold off one more day, to give Karen more time to recoup, but Randy convinced him that Rahm would catch on if they waited.
“Then tonight’s the night,” said Jeremy, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to remain composed. “How’s two a.m. sound?”
“Sounds good. Everyone will be asleep.”
Jeremy reached out with his right hand for Randy to shake.
Randy took it, pumped it up and down to clinch the deal. He beamed.
Jeremy beamed too. Mission accomplished.
#
After the others walked off, Karen helped carry the dessert plates back to the
kitchen. Suspecting this may be her last opportunity to press upon Janet the importance of giving Jon additional attention, she spoke up.
In a rare show of anger, Janet threw one of the plates, shattering it against a stalagmite resembling a winged totem pole. Startled by her own behavior, she covered her face. “So you think I’m a bad mother?”
“No, not at all. It’s just—”
“Just what?”
“Well, for starters, Jon’s vocabulary is below average, and he mispronounces half of his words.”
“So, you think he’s stupid?”
Karen quickly shook her head. “Of course not. Quite the contrary. He’s got lots of potential and he’s doing much better. It’s just that he’s been left on his own too much.”
“So I’ve neglected him?”
Karen saw that this conversation wasn’t heading in the right direction. She paused to think. “I’m not blaming you, Janet. The main problem is that there aren’t other kids for him to play with or socialize with. Randy’s too old and the adults have chores to do every day. You must have noticed what’s happening. That he’s … unusual.”
“Just what are you driving at?”
Karen’s mind raced, searching for the right words, the right tone to bring home her point. Suddenly aware of her own vulnerability, she assured herself she’d be out of this dystopian madhouse soon, hopefully very soon. She gathered her nerve. “I think living here is having a deleterious effect on him physically and mentally.”
Janet’s face turned as purple as a bruise. “What’s that big word you used? Deli something. Are you showing off? Think you’re better than me?”
“You know I don’t. I like Jon. Really, I do, but I’m concerned. He’s beginning to look like a-a rodent.” She lowered her voice on the last word.
“A what!”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, Janet. He’s got long whiskers growing off the sides of his face and his nails are as pointy as claws. I had to cut off the tips the other day when he sat on my lap. They were cutting my skin, right through my pants.”