He heard a sound.
What was that? David twisted his upper body and managed to see between cross-hatched branches. It was Mike. That part was almost believable, but there was something else in the magnificent shade of the Drop. The Drop now looked, literally, dead. There had been large vibrant green leaves that had caught David’s eye on the day he had first met Mike down there. Now those same leaves appeared brown and withered. They appeared to be dying, if not already dead. A few of the innermost trees looked the same way. David stared, noting it was the biggest trees that were now dead or dying. His attention swung back to Mike. Although only provided with a side view, David could read the awed look on Mike’s face. His actions were perplexed and clumsy. Then, to David’s surprise, Mike spoke.
“Can you believe this, James?”
Who’s James? David wondered.
“What?” another voice answered. This one was not necessarily deeper, but sounded more mature, more sophisticated.
David shifted again so he’d be able to take in a wider view. The hill was steep, even at the top, and his feet and ankles were twisted into such an awkward position that they began to hurt. Still he saw no one but Mike. The young boy talked on.
“What happened down here?” Mike wanted to know, motioning to the trees, “and what happened to the dodecahedron?”
“Whom?” the voice inquired.
Mike didn’t answer. Instead he kept going with his own train of thought. “It was right here, shattered, a week ago. Where could it have gone?”
“Well,…” the voice began to reply.
Mike turned and it had be some sort of cruel fate that allowed his gaze land directly on David at the top of the cliff. David froze. Suddenly he could hear the rush of blood in his ears; he felt very hot. Should he turn and run? Smile? Say hello? Should he say anything at all?
“You!” Mike yelled in David’s direction, before David could decide what to do. “What did you do with it?”
“I didn’t touch your toy Mike! I swear!”
In Mike’s eyes something flickered through the gloom, alluding to the heat of his rapidly rising anger. “I bet you did,” he shot back, fists clenched.
“Did not,” David retorted, his voice calm but firm. “What would I want with that thing, anyway?” he asked, hoping to find out exactly what that spinning object had been.
Mike didn’t answer, but he did consider the question. His lips were pursed together and his red hair appeared as fiery as his flickering eyes. The greens — there were many different shades — of his irises changed quickly, blinking from one spot to another as if controlled by a switch. David noticed this even though he stood a good distance away. Those green irises shone like a pair of jewels in the sunlight. But there was no sunlight in the Drop. David had even wondered if it was darker than it had been the week before.
“Well,” Mike yelled up in David’s direction, “if anyone would take it, it would be you. Unless someone else knows about this place. How many people have you told?”
David was insulted and the edge in his voice when he answered made it obvious. “Nobody, Mike.”
“Then where did it go?” Mike pressed. “If you didn’t take it and I didn’t take it, who did? Who else knows about this place?”
David shrugged his shoulders. “I really don’t think anybody else does, Mike. I asked my mom about it the day your toy broke and she was pretty convinced that the only thing inside the Drop was trees.”
David couldn’t swear on this but he was pretty sure that a look of relief had washed over Mike’s face like a wave washing up a sandy beach. When the wave retreated there was a new look. A surprised wonder, David thought.
“Then who? Who could have taken it?”
“It’s been raining pretty heavily for the past week, the pieces of glass were probably washed away,” David concluded with feigned confidence. They both knew that the clearing was too sealed off to be affected much by last week’s heavy rains.
David lifted one foot in an attempt to get down the hill. The gesture had been a mistake. The step was too big and too ill-planned. He went sliding. The leg he hadn’t lifted wanted to stay planted in the ground, but after a great wave of pain tore through it it, too, went sliding down the precipitous slope behind David. By the time David reached the bottom of what seemed to him to be almost a cliff he lay on his back, his head towards Mike.
“Are you okay?” Mike sounded genuinely concerned.
David grunted out an incomprehensible response then, with the aid of Mike, got to his feet. Instinctively he avoided putting weight on his left leg and instead held onto Mike’s shoulder.
“David, you sure you’re okay?”
“Yah, yah,” he said, nodding. David was more interested in finally getting a good look around. The side he hadn’t seen when standing just inside the secret entrance of the Drop he now had a good view of. As he suspected, it was relatively the same as what he had already seen. Without taking his hand off of Mike he twisted as best as he could, looking for the owner of the other voice he’d heard.
“You know, Mike, I really thought there was someone down here with you,” David said, his gaze finally coming to peer down at Mike. What he saw was the colour in Mike’s face drain away so quickly and so easily he had to wonder.
“What’s wrong?” David wanted to know.
“What did you say?”
“I asked you what was wrong.”
“No,” Mike corrected, “before that.”
“I could have sworn I heard somebody else down here with you.” David looked around again and felt quite embarrassed by the idea. But then, he would have bet his last dollar that he’d heard another voice.
Mike’s own voice was flat and guarded as he informed David, “Obviously you were wrong.”
Mike then jerked himself away from David. David’s arms pinwheeled. As they did, arms stretched out at his sides, David had no other option but to put some weight on his left leg. Pain shot up through his entire left side from toe to hip. He let out a cry and immediately Mike was back at his side.
“Are you okay?” his friend wanted to know yet again.
“I’m fine. I think I twisted my ankle,” David replied and silently prayed that nothing was broken.
Mike frowned then looked in the direction from which David had come. He was wondering how they’d get back up the hill, which was almost a perfect ninety degree Drop.
“Don’t worry Mike, I’ll just walk it off.”
David tried. It was painful at first but after a while the pain was tolerable. He hobbled around a little longer then decided he could no longer put off the inevitable: He had to attempt climbing back up the path down which he had slid. Briefly his mind flashed on the rescuers standing in a loosely formed circle at the top of the drop, consulting with each other. Instead of looking for the three missing campers they were trying to figure out how to get this kid, who just couldn’t stay out of trouble, out of the Drop.
Mike gave David special instructions: There was a stone and a tree root that he was supposed to get a hold of.
“Don’t worry,” Mike said, “I’ll be right behind you.”
David nodded his comprehension then limped over to the steep hill. He breathed a deep sigh, resigning himself to the inevitable discomfort that he would have to endure.
The hill was steep all right, and David was almost totally dependent on Mike for support. Instead of climbing out of the Drop, David had to admit that it was Mike who somehow managed to push, shove and leverage him towards the top. It was a long time before the two stumbled into the afternoon light.
Mike looked exhausted. On his forehead sweat glistened in the day’s sun. Sweat ran down the sides of his face in rivulets. Sweat dripped from the ends of his curly red hair, which was now wet and stuck together in clumps. Sweat drenched his t-shirt from the collar and shoulders, tapering into a V on his chest and an hour glass on his back. David, although easily the more athletic
of the pair, suspected he did not look much better.
Both boys were sitting in the middle of the dirt path, panting in the sunlight. They had seriously been talking about contingency plans on their way up. Most of the plans involved Mike leaving David behind to return with yet more ropes, parents, emergency personnel or most likely all three. If Mike hadn’t been such a good friend to David for so long, David would have feared that Mike would just leave him there and not bother to return at all (such was the severity of Mike’s anger as of late).
Suddenly and simultaneously their laboured breathing ceased. Something had crept into the air. It was sharp and cold and did not linger long. In another half second both boys were breathing heavily again, not really sure whether they’d felt anything at all. Neither boy spoke of it. Neither one sought out confirmation from the other.
* * *
While Dave and Mike were debating the whereabouts of the crystal fragments, the crystal was slowly being reformed in a location not that far off. Deep in the caves, much further than Mike or Dave would ever go, the crystal was busy rebuilding itself. The process involved using various forms of energy to pull the necessary components towards itself. It was painstaking work at first but, as was the nature of crystals, once nucleation was complete and stabilized with blood, the process had no choice but to reiterate itself again and again, cascading from chaos to perfection.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mike stood in the centre of his bedroom scolding James.
“You have such a huge mouth,” he was saying.
“Oh?”
“Shh!” Mike hissed. “Can’t you whisper?”
James sounded hurt but Mike felt he had to be firm. What had happened in the Drop earlier had been a very close call. Now his mother was in the room down the hall and James was talking as loud as ever.
“Listen James,” Mike told him, “I didn’t mean to snap at you, but do you know what people would do if they caught me talking to myself?” Mike went on without giving James the opportunity to answer, “They’d lock me away in a cell, … the kind with padded walls.”
“Sorry,” James said in a harsh whisper.
Michael winced. James’ whisper sounded even more abrasive than his normal voice. But what could Mike do about it? The fact that his voice and James’ voice were in fact the same voice had yet to dawn on him. All Mike knew for certain was that he’d hate to loose James as a friend, so he had to be careful.
“Listen,” Mike told him, — or himself, if you wanted to be exact about it — “you don’t necessarily have to whisper. Just talk quietly.” When Mike breathed out the word ‘quietly’ it was barely audible.
“Oh, all right,” James said, imitating the last part.
That was better. In appreciation Mike allowed a smile, even though he was not quite sure that he felt like smiling. He turned his head, casually, and found himself looking out through his bedroom window. Beyond the window the summer sun would soon be setting but for now the sky was still bright and blue and the sun still sat aloft the clouds. He returned his attention to James.
“Well,” his other half was saying, “I thought it pretty rude of that young man to impose the way he did. Who was he?”
“He’s my friend,” Mike said while thinking carefully. Over the past week Mike had calmed down quite a bit. At least enough to realize that David was indeed his friend. He was the only true friend Mike had ever known. It was wrong for him to assume David was responsible for the destruction of the magic. David hadn’t known its value. Mike understood that now. He had realized that the second David had referred to it as a “toy.” As for David discovering the Drop purely by accident, Mike was still uncertain about that part. After all, David had been down there again today.
James had been talking but Mike hadn’t been paying attention.
“Well?” James persisted.
Mike felt embarrassed about the fact that James was an imaginary friend — and no matter how much you twisted it that’s exactly what he was. Not that it really mattered. He never thought about it that way.
“What?” Mike asked James. “What were you saying?”
“I wanted to know what he was doing down there. You said nobody but yourself knew about that place.”
Mike didn’t really know the answer to that question but after a moment’s thought he explained things to James as well as he, himself, understood them.
“Well,” he began, “that’s what I thought too. I mean, when I found the clearing at the bottom of the Drop it seemed like nobody had been down there in forever. It wasn’t as tidy as it looks now. There were dead leaves and twigs everywhere. It took me the better part of a day to create a true clearing. And even after that things were always as I’d left them…. Until the day the magic broke.”
“The magic?”
“Well, not really the magic but the magic’s home: the polyhedron. Up until the day the polyhedron broke there had been no signs of anyone in the Drop. But that day I went down there and found a climbing rope knotted and looped on the ground. David had told me earlier the same day that some park rangers were planning on going into the Drop. I guess they left the rope behind. That was also the same day that David first found his way into the Drop…. Or so he says.”
“David?”
“Yes, the boy that was there today. And,” Mike went on, getting caught up in his own narration, “to add to everything else I find that the pieces of the shattered polyhedron have disappeared. Anyone could have gone down there over the course of a week and taken them. But why would they do that? Does shattered glass have any value?” Now it seemed that Mike was truly talking to himself, honestly thinking aloud. “Nobody knows the value of the polyhedron. I don’t even know the full value of it…. But I know that it’s special. I know that it has magic.”
Mike began to pace the width of his bedroom, his mind racing. There was, he thought, the definite possibility that someone else — other than he and David and a few park rangers preoccupied with finding missing tourists — did know about the Drop. Someone he wasn’t acquainted with. It made perfect sense. The thought that absolutely nobody had attempted to go beyond the trees and underbrush was a little far fetched. But there was that one question that still remained. Who? Who was it that knew about the clearing beyond the trees?
“Perhaps,” James suggested, “nobody knows.”
Mike was startled. He’d forgotten that James had easy access to his thoughts.
“But if that’s so,” Mike needed to understand, “what happened to the glass?”
“They were fine pieces,” James replied.
Mike shivered. James even had access to thoughts Mike didn’t realize he was thinking.
“Chances are the wind blew them away,” the deep, mature voice continued logically.
Mike thought. Inside the Drop there was only a minimal breeze but the last few days …. Actually, if he’d thought about it more carefully Mike would have realized that ever since the polyhedron had shattered, the winds blowing through Ceedon’s Valley had become harsh. And the rain! It seemed like it had been raining persistently and heavily for the past week. Only yesterday the sun had finally broken through. Very unlike Ceedon’s Valley for this time of year. It was like Ceedon’s Valley had been the unfortunate recipient of the back end of a raging tornado somewhere else in the world. It had to be tornado season somewhere, Mike supposed. (Well really, he knew.)
“James,” Mike spoke in a serious tone, “if the wind did carry away the pieces where did it take them? There has to be something left.”
“I suppose,” James agreed reluctantly, “but you have to admit th— “
There was a knock at his bedroom door; brisk, hallow, fallowed by his mother’s voice. “Mikey? Mikey, who’s in there with you?”
The room began to spin. He had to think quickly. Twice in one day was just too much. His hands grew cold and clammy, his heart thumped audibly in his chest. To him such a visceral reaction was a ne
w phenomenon. Never, as far as he could remember, had Michael ever felt so out of control. But now, now he was frantic. He just didn’t want Crazy to be added to his fast-growing list of failings.
Wrapped up in the air of his own panic it came to him. Taking uncoordinated steps Mike ran to the window, slipping beyond the curtains, in order to pull back the double pane of glass. There was no mesh in the frame, not since it had torn beyond repair years ago. There was a breeze though and the curtains billowed and danced in its presence.
“Mikey?” His mother knocked again then let herself in without waiting for an answer.
Mike had taken another series of large strides and had ended up almost in the centre of his room faced in her direction.
“Mikey who was in here with you?”
“No one,” he said, purposely fidgeting with his hands in a nervous way.
The warm breeze that now entered the room caused all manner of papers and light-weight items to flutter and roll. Mrs. Gregory, wearing one of her sundresses, of course, noticed it immediately. She shivered, though not because of the cold but because of the ambiance of the place. Abruptly she turned her gaze towards the source of the warm breeze. Thin blue curtains flapped obligingly.
“Mikey who was in here?” she asked again.
Mrs. Gregory had thought exactly what Mike had wanted her to think: There had been someone in his room but before she came in, the culprit had escaped out the window, dangling from the window frame before dropping softly into Mrs. Gregory’s flower bed.
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