by Shoshi
these crazy caves.
“See anything?” Roke called up.
Joel did not reply right off, and, then, Roke heard him shouting at the top of his voice. “It’s beautiful! Gorgeous!” He turned back a couple of steps and into catastrophe. His foot slipped, and the next thing he knew he was tumbling down the limestone face, grabbing at anything he could to stop his fall. He managed to do it about halfway down---but not before he had made a bloody mess of his hands.
“Shit!” shouted Roke. “Didn’t want this to happen.” He set Bryan down as carefully as he could and rushed up the rock wall like an elephant-sized gazelle. He peered at Joel’s hands. “Does it hurt bad?” he asked softly.
“It feels great,” said Joel. “Like an angel’s kiss. What do you think it feels like, you jerk? Why the hell didn’t you go up this wall in the first place?” But he could see how concerned his oversize friend was.
“I’m sorry, kid, I’m sorry,” said Roke. It was obvious he felt really bad about it. “We’ve got to get you tended to. I’ll find a stream or something up there and wash you off.” He turned his head up towards the hole that led to the outside world. “God, it sure smells lovely out there,” he said. Joel felt a pang of sadness that his friend could not also see how lovely it was.
Roke went back down the rocky slope for Bryan, put him on his back, clambered back up to where Joel was seated, grabbed him by the collar and practically ran up the rest of the wall. A moment later, he was carrying both of them, into the middle of a warm, green New England summer.
“Now, water!” he said.
“I can get us the water,” said Joel. “I’m not totally helpless.”
“Just dumb-ass clumsy,” said Roke, smiling. “Listen, kiddo, I’m going to get the water. What we need most of all is a chopper. Get that cell phone out and start calling. Try and reach 911. And be sure to tell them they can’t hover and drop a line and a stretcher like they usually do. It won’t work.”
“Why not?” Joel thought it sounded like a good idea.
“It’s too dangerous. Look at those trees. They’re too tall and close together. We’ve got to make them a clearing.”
“How the heck do we do that?”
“Leave that to me. We’re next to a swamp here. Lots of saplings I can pull up. Make the call, Joel. Get them in here.” He disappeared down the slope to find a stream.
He would have to reach Lois, he thought. Let her set it up. 911 was a no no. He didn’t want someone who didn’t know her calling to tell her the bad news about her brother. He would have to do it. He fished out his cell phone and gave it a withering look. “Work, dammit!” he said aloud, but he figured he couldn’t blame it if it didn’t. He’d been pretty hard on it. The screen was dark. He pushed buttons. It wouldn’t go on. “Damn!” He was about to scream the word again and stopped himself. He’d forgotten. He had turned the phone off in the cave---to save the battery because he knew it would be useless.
Now he was dialing Lois. Her phone rang and rang. She did not pick up, but her voicemail finally did. He hesitated a long moment, not knowing how much to tell her. Maybe it would be wise not to tell her very much. But he realized the more she knew the better she could respond. And he’d rather she heard it from him. This was urgent, double urgent. So he poured out a hundred details—so many the mailbox ran out of space before he had even finished explaining about Bryan.
You’re nothing but stupid, he said to himself after hanging up. He called back and left a second message—this time brief and sensible:
“Lois, it’s me Joel. We found Bryan. Me and another caver. He may be alive. Please get a 911 helicopter in here right away. Plus a doctor. He’s got hypothermia. Oh, Lois, please hurry. He’s dying.”
He paused and went on: “Forget about them dropping down a line. Too many big trees here. It won’t work. We’re building a clearing for the chopper. And a fire for Bryan. Look for the smoke. No, I don’t have GPS.”
He hung up and almost immediately realized he had no matches for a fire either. None of his friends carried them any more because nobody he knew smoked. Did Roke have some in his magic bag? If he had a wizard’s hat in there, he must have matches. “Lois, please, please call back,” he said inside his head.
Roke came dog-trotting back. “You get through?”
“All I could do was leave a message,” he said.
“Well, keep trying. I found a stream and filled up my helmet. Rinse your hands off real good, and I’ll put some witch hazel on them.”
“Witch hazel?” said Joel shaking his head as he rinsed off his hands in the helmet.
“Oh, I’ve got one of everything in here,” smiled Roke patting his magic bag. “It’ll sting, Joel. Bite your lip.” He poured the witch hazel liberally over his hands.
Joel screamed lustily and wildly waved his hands. Biting his lip did nothing. It still hurt like hell so he gave up and screamed some more.
“It’s okay, kid,” said Roke. “No need to be brave. Screaming helps the most.”
Finally, the sheer awfulness of the pain began to subside. Roke ripped up an extra T-shirt he had in the bag and wrapped and tied it around each of Joel’s two hands. “You going to thank me or do I have to beg you?” He cuffed Joel across the top of his head.
“Thank you,” said Joel grimly.
“Now we’ve got to figure out how to warm him up. It’s not so bad out now. When that sun goes down, it’s going to get cold. In these parts you can see your breath in June. Well, almost.”
“So let’s build a fire,” said Joel. “We’ve got to make a beacon anyway.”
“Set the woods on fire, you mean. We’ll be toastie for a short while—and, then---toast,” said Roke.
“You do have matches?” said Joel
“One of everything like I said,” said the big guy.
“This needs someone who can see, Roke. Let me do the fire, collect wood and stuff. I was a scout once.”
“How you going to do this fire?”
“Dig a shallow hole,” said Joel, “put the fire in it and stand by with dirt—in case. Then, we lay him alongside it. Wrap our arms around him and keep turning him over.”
“Might work. We’ve got to try whatever.”
So they set to work to build the fire. They scrounged through the woods for dead branches and leaves, and, then, Joel lit it. “Wow, it gets big fast,” said Roke, stepping back. Joel threw a little dirt on it to calm it down, and the big man gently lifted Bryan and laid him on the ground alongside the flames. Joel lay down next to him and hugged him close.
“Good idea,” said Roke. “We’ll take turns. How are your hands?”
“Not great, not awful,” said Joel.
“Good,” said his friend.
Before long the day ended. A fierce red sun scorched its way into the ridge, and almost immediately everything went dark and got chilly. Where the hell is she? thought Joel. He knew Lois didn’t check her cell phone all that often. He had scolded her about it before, and, then, suddenly, like the jarring call of a nightbird the cell rang. Joel practically threw himself at it, fumblingly pressed the call key and shouted: “Lois!”
“God, it’s actually you,” she said.
“Yeah, you can’t believe it, and neither can I. How you doing? It’s super hearing your voice. What’s with the 911 chopper?”
“Their copter had a breakdown yesterday. They hope they’ll have it fixed by early tomorrow.”
“Well, we’ll have to live with that. And a doctor?”
“There’s an old retired guy up here who’s coming. He says he knows what to do. If he comes to, don’t feed him or give him water.”
“I don’t think he’s coming to so fast--but he’s breathing. Sort of. Oh, Lois, this has been a roller coaster.”
“I’ll bet,” she said. “Make sure you give us lots of smoke!”
“We will,” said Joel. I’m getting off. Got to save the battery. You’ve been fabulous, kid!”
“Give him a kiss for me!” she yelled just before he turned off his cell.
He was laughing as Roke asked: “You want to do that or shall I?”
“Wow, we’ve only got tomorrow morning to make that clearing,” said Joel. “Can we do it?”
“We damn well will,” said Roke. “Get some sleep.”
“Oh, yeah, just like that,” said Joel.
“Well, I plan to,” said Roke. “Anyway, it’s my turn to warm up your brother.” He lay down next to Bryan and put his huge arms around him.
Joel poked at the fire and fed it some more wood. He stared at it a while, stared at the banshee flames dancing in the darkness. “I’ll go fetch us some more wood,” he said, but he could already tell that the big guy was asleep. He turned on his LED light. It was starting to fade, but he figured, what the heck, we’re leaving this place tomorrow. No need to save it. He picked up twigs and broken branches as well as handfuls of dry leaves in the woods near their fire.
Then, fascinated, he watched as a small deer fled by, somehow able to leap in and out of the saplings and shrubs growing in the swamp with only the moon to light its way. But this was a doomed animal. The next thing he knew a great crashing sound encasing a huge plunging creature rushed by him. It was snorting and breathing heavily. He could see immediately it was a black bear, largest predator in the New Hampshire forest. He knew they didn’t often go after deer, but at this time of year when