Accidental Awakening

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  Dad burst out laughing. “Now he quotes Star Wars.”

  “Hey,” Quinn said, “when it works, it works.” Quinn smiled, knowing it would be a great couple of days with his family and best friend. He took a deep breath inside and enjoyed the warm feeling of the sun caressing his face and torso.

  ❖

  Several hours later, after swimming in the pond and playing an impromptu game of water volleyball, Quinn’s dads left the beach to take a nap back at their campsite. Quinn and Blake decided to stay behind and give the dads some privacy.

  “We should go exploring later,” Quinn said, applying more sunscreen to his body.

  “Definitely,” Blake agreed. “What do you want to explore?”

  “I saw some hiking trails on the campground map. Other than that, there isn’t a whole lot, but at least we have GPS in our cell phones.”

  “Our cell phones aren’t working.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, like I said, we can explore those trails at some point or just walk around the campground. We’re not exactly on a treasure hunt here. It’s not like we’re gonna find some big mystery.”

  “Okay well, maybe later tonight or tomorrow morning we can go exploring.”

  “How about tomorrow morning?” Quinn asked. “I think my dads would really enjoy our company tonight. I think they have a special campfire thing planned with s’mores and other fun stuff.”

  “That sounds really exciting. Thanks again for letting me come with you.” Blake said.

  “Of course,” Quinn answered. “Why wouldn’t you be here?” he asked, feeling surprised.

  “Well, it’s just that…I don’t know…my parents aren’t always…”

  “Never mind them,” Quinn interrupted. “Our lives are our lives, and I’m glad you’re in mine.”

  ❖

  Quinn rubbed the after-sun aloe lotion in his hands and rubbed it on Blake’s back. Although they hadn’t burned, they spent a lot of time in the sun and their dry skin needed aloe. Quinn finished, handed the bottle to Blake, and turned around. Blake spread the lotion on Quinn’s back. The boys had just washed up at the campground’s shower cabin and were getting ready to head back to their campsite and tent for the night.

  “I’m stuffed,” Quinn said, holding his distended stomach.

  “Yeah, totally shouldn’t have had those last couple of s’mores. Daddio did a great job with the grilled chicken, too.” Quinn nodded. Several days ago, his dad had marinated chicken breasts that he grilled for dinner.

  “All set,” Blake said, rubbing the excess lotion on his chest. “I hate sleeping with his stuff on me. My skin feels clammy and gross, especially in this wicked humidity.”

  “Yeah, but at least your skin will feel better tomorrow,” Quinn said, wiping the extra lotion on his hands over his chest and arms.

  “Almost done?” Blake asked, grabbing his shower tote.

  “Yup,” Quinn answered. He finished and grabbed his towel and toiletry bag. “Let’s go.”

  Back at the tent, Quinn settled in first and laid on top of his open sleeping bag wearing only plaid boxer shorts. He rested his hands behind his head and watched the heat lightning flash above them through the screened air vents in the tent. The evening air had not cooled off, a surprising happenstance given how far north they were on Labor Day weekend.

  Blake climbed onto his sleeping bag, making the shared air mattress under Quinn bounce as he settled down. In the distance, a light rumble of thunder echoed through the campground.

  “I think I want to come out to my dads soon,” Quinn said softly.

  Blake chuckled. “It’s about time.”

  “I know, I know. They’re gay and obviously they won’t care but I just…think it’s still a big deal. I mean, I get teased at school for being gay and…”

  “No, you get teased for not being out. That and you’re too nice and the bullies know they can pick on you.”

  A bright flash of lightning made Quinn blink. “Darien picks on you, too, buddy.”

  “Yeah, but not in the same way he picks on you.” A clap of thunder, much closer, rumbled through the night air. The wind picked up as well and shook the tent.

  “You know your dads must have a clue, right?”

  “What do you mean?” Quinn asked, turning to look at his friend.

  “You don’t date girls. You don’t talk about girls. And let’s face it, you’re one snappy dresser.”

  “Yeah, but that could just be because they trained me…”

  “Nope, it’s not. It’s not because you have gay dads.” More lightning flashed, followed by a serious thunderclap. “Your family is going to love and accept you no matter what, because that’s who they are. You’re lucky that way,” Blake said, becoming somber as he stared at a piece of lint on the air mattress between them.

  Quinn’s brow furled, and he looked at his friend. “Why, are you gonna come out or something? Shouldn’t you tell me first?”

  “No…” Blake said, shaking his head a little. “I just…my parents don’t care about me. I mean, my older sister has been out of the house for what, two years now? My parents never mention her, and they treat me like shit. They don’t care, Quinn.”

  Quinn contemplated his response as a gust of wind rattled the tent.

  “Boys!” Dad called out. “Let’s get in the car before it rains. Close up your tent!”

  “Okay,” Quinn answered back, sitting up. “We’ll get back to this,” he said, gently squeezing Blake’s shoulder.

  “Yup,” Blake said. “Let’s avoid certain death for now, though, right?”

  Quinn smiled and stood up. He and Blake grabbed flashlights and zipped up all the air vents and then stepped out into the night air.

  “Should we get dressed?” Blake asked, looking down at his boxer shorts.

  “We’re only going to the car…unless you really want to…” A wild flash of lightning and a blast of wind surged through the air. A moment later, thunder cracked overhead.

  “Hell no,” Blake said, zipping up the doorway of the tent. They stepped into their flip-flops and then jogged across the campsite to the car, where the dads were waiting for them in a similar state of undress. Drops of water fell and began pelting them. As the four car doors slammed shut, a double flash of lightning announced the oncoming downpour as wind and thunder shook up the skies.

  “That was good timing,” Quinn said. A thick, jagged arc of lightning split the sky in half as earsplitting thunder tumbled across the camp site.

  “You’re not kidding,” Blake said. “I thought it was only supposed to be heat lightning, but I guess I…”

  “Whoa!” All four guys shouted as several bright flashes illuminated the forest in front of them. The ensuing crack-boom vibrated the plastic interior of the car and all of the campground’s light-sensitive lamps went dark, the bright lightning having tricked the sensors into thinking it was daylight.

  “That had to hit something,” Daddio. “At least, it sounded like it hit something.”

  The rain intensified, and Quinn couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him. They watched the freak storm in silence, making small talk. When they could see through the torrential rain, the trees appeared bent like bows as they struggled to retain their rooting in the ground and stand against the driving wind and rain. At three different points, the guys heard several deep thudding sounds that made the SUV shudder under them.

  Then, twenty minutes later, just as quickly as it had arrived, the storm disappeared. “Well, at least one good thing came out of this,” Daddio announced after he opened his door. “Sleeping tonight just got a lot easier.”

  Quinn stepped into the night and felt the cool, dry air around him. The storm had broken through the thick soup of humidity and offered relief until the next day. Together, they walked back to their tents.

  “Sleep well, boys,” Dad said. “If we get another storm, back to the car.” He jerked his thumb back toward the SUV.

  “Good night,” Quinn and Bl
ake said together.

  Since the lights were still out, they and other campers used flashlights to return to their tents. When the boys finished re-opening their tent, they climbed into their sleeping bags for the night.

  5 | The Day Everything Changed

  Blake

  BLAKE OPENED HIS EYES AND SHUT them quickly. Damn, that's bright.

  Red-tinted sunlight that filtered through the tent’s red nylon sides filled the inside of the tent. He shivered at the cool morning air on his exposed chest and pulled his sleeping bag up to his neck. He glanced over at Quinn, who slept on his side, facing him. Blake smirked when he saw a bit of drool leaking from his buddy's mouth.

  He reached over and gently pressed his index finger against the tip of Quinn’s nose.

  Quinn cracked open an eye and met his gaze. “Morning,” he said, rolling on to his back, raising his arms above his head, and stretching his legs in his sleeping bag.

  “Hi,” Blake answered, still sleepy. The air mattress gently shifted as Blake sat up and stretched his arms up over his head. “I’m ready to get up and go exploring or something.”

  Quinn groaned. “No, it’s too early. What’s wrong with you? I need five more minutes?”

  “Nope!” Blake reached over and patted his hands on Quinn’s chest. “Time to get up!”

  Quinn laughed and slapped Blake’s hands away. “Fine, fine, whatever.”

  The boys pulled on some gym shorts and stepped out of the tent, sliding their feet into their flip-flops. Blake looked around the campsite. A few other colorful tents dotted the tree line, and two families with younger children were already cooking breakfast several sites over. Otherwise, it was quiet.

  “Whoa,” Blake said, his eyes landing on a pile of tall pine trees that had been knocked over during the storm. “How come we didn’t hear those fall?”

  Quinn stared at the trees and rubbed his eyes again. “I thought I felt the car shake a couple of times. That must have been why.”

  “Right, I remember the shaking.”

  “Good thing there were no tents under there. Those people would have been seriously hurt, or worse. Even the SUV wouldn’t have protected us from falling trees.”

  Blake looked over to the other tent. “Your dads aren’t up yet.”

  “Weird, they’re usually early birds.”

  “Maybe they’re taking advantage of the quiet. Maybe we should too while no one’s really up yet. Wanna go shower?”

  “Sure,” Quinn said.

  After grabbing their towels and toiletry bags, the boys zipped up the tent and ambled over to the shower facilities. When they arrived at the shower cabin, the lights wouldn’t work and the water pressure was non-existent.

  “Power must be out,” Blake said. “Must be a ton of trees down or something.”

  “Most likely. Um, I’m gonna go jump in the pond and rinse off the sleepiness.”

  “Great idea.”

  The boys splashed around in their boxer shorts for a while in the cool waters of Quimby pond. After, they made their way back to their campsite and got dressed for the morning. When they finished putting on shorts and tank tops, Quinn poked his head out and checked on his dads. “They’re still not up.”

  “Then let’s go exploring. Maybe they’ll be up in an hour or whatever.”

  “Sounds good.” Blake reached for a clean pair of socks and his sneakers.

  Moments later, the boys trekked to the marked trailhead at the edge of camp that offered several routes though the forest and around the pond.

  “Which way do you want to go?” Quinn asked.

  Blake spun his arm through the air and pointed to one of the trails that led away from the campsite and the pond. “That way,” he said, pointing to the trail. On the first tree, an old, faded sign asked hikers to please stay on trails.

  “I wish I had some coffee,” Quinn complained. Then he let loose a big yawn and started walking down the trail.

  “You could have made some,” Blake responded.

  “My dads have the car keys.”

  “Oh, right. Why are you so tired?”

  “I dunno. Too much time in the sun yesterday?”

  “Could be.”

  Nature chirped and buzzed around them as various birds and insects set about their very busy day of foraging and whatever else the wild things of the woods do. Several chipmunks squeaked their displeasure and scampered into the underbrush as their heavy and energetic footsteps alerted anything within earshot that two teenage human boys were approaching.

  The trails were still muddy from the storm’s rainfall and the boys laughed and zig-zagged around large puddles and tried not to lose their balance on slippery tree roots. Occasionally they diverted from the trail because the leafy ground was drier and less menacing than the flattened and waterlogged trail they followed.

  Ten minutes later, Quinn stopped and stared at something to his right. “Whoa, check that out,” he said, pointing to a line of pine trees that had been knocked over by the storm winds.

  Blake looked over and became interested in the fallen trees. “Let’s follow them and see where it goes,” Blake said. “There might be a pot of gold at the end of the tree line.”

  “Eh,” Quinn said, looking around.

  “We’re not going to get lost,” Blake said, anticipating his best buddy’s objections. “All we have to do is follow the broken trees back, see? It cuts right across the trail we’re on.”

  “Okay,” Quinn said, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

  Blake led the way as the boys hopped over shattered tree trunks and wondered at the massive root systems of uprooted trees the storm winds had blown over like toothpicks.

  “There had to be a mini-tornado-micro-burst-thing last night,” Quinn said. “That’s the only thing that explains this. There’s no way a bunch of trees would fall like dominos in the woods.”

  “Sure as hell was windy enough for one. Like you said earlier, I’m glad this didn’t come through the campground. Still, this is too close for comfort.”

  Several minutes later, they made it to the end of the fallen trees and stopped. “Well, this is less exciting than I thought it would be,” Blake said. They looked around for a moment at the various trees, ferns, and other foliage that grew around them. A hawk or an eagle—Blake wasn’t sure which—screeched above them in the sky.

  “Or is it?” Quinn said, pointing at something on their left. “What the heck is that big rock thing?”

  Blake look at Quinn’s arm and followed the pointed finger toward a strange looking, geometrically shaped rock in the ground. Near it, several bushes had been uprooted. “Whatever it is, the storm winds exposed it. Let’s check it out.”

  “Yeah, it looks cool.”

  The boys made their way over to the rock.

  As they approached, Blake saw it was not a rock or a boulder, but a lichen- and moss-covered concrete bunker-looking box sunken into the earth. On the right side, two angular sides or fins protruded out, inviting a closer inspection. They made their way around to the fins and discovered they were supporting walls that sheltered a medium sized stairwell that descended into the darkness of a tunnel. A weathered metal sign hung above the entrance, its message clear: Keep Out.

  “That’s not meant for us,” Blake said, smiling wickedly. “Right?”

  “Of course not,” Quinn answered, looking at his friend with mock indignation. “I’m sure whoever put that sign up did not intend it for two teenagers on an exploratory mission to discover the deep, dark secrets of Rangeley, Maine.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  Blake hunched as he descended the bunker’s worn stairs carefully and then stood up in the entrance. I’m glad this was built for tall people.

  “You didn’t happen to bring a flashlight, did you?” Quinn asked as he made his way down the stairs. “We won’t be able to go very far.”

  “I have my phone’s flashlight.”

  “You brought your cellphone? Even though it ha
s no signal?”

  “Force of habit.” He shrugged.

  “Good point.”

  Blake pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped on flashlight mode, and then led the way into the tunnel. It descended slightly as they made their way inside. He felt the cool dampness of the tunnel walls around him on his skin. Occasionally, roots poked through cracks in the concrete and dripping water seeped through at other points. The air smelled of damp earth and plant matter, but it didn’t seem moldy or musty.

  About fifty feet in, the darkness engulfed them, and Quinn put his hand on Blake’s shoulder.

  “Train tracks?” Quinn asked, pointing at the ground ahead of them.

  “Yup,” Blake said, shining his light downward. A set of miniature railroad tracks abruptly ended in front of them as if they had been ripped out from that point to the entrance of the cave. However, the tracks continued as they made their way deeper into the tunnel.

  “Looks like a mining tunnel of some kind, like in Indiana Jones,” Quinn quipped.

  “If there are monster snakes, spiders, or flame-throwing savages in here, I’m out.”

  “We’re in Maine, Blake. None of those things exist in Maine. It probably just dead ends anyway.”

  “You never know,” Blake said, carefully stepping on the old wooden ties that connected the rusting rails together.

  After a few more steps, Quinn squeezed Blake’s arm. He stopped moving and looked over his shoulder, even though he couldn’t see his friend’s face.

  “What?” Blake asked.

  “Sssh. What’s that noise?”

  “You’re being an ass.”

  “No, I’m serious. It’s like a humming sound.”

  Blake exhaled and concentrated on the sounds within the tunnel. Quinn was right; a strange humming resonated in the tunnel around them.

  “It sounds mechanical.”

  “Or electrical,” Quinn added. “It’s like, thrumming or something. Let’s keep going.”

  “Okay.” Blake continued walking forward and Quinn kept his hand on his shoulder. The closer they got to whatever was on the other side of the tunnel, the louder the sound became.

  “It’s actually pulsing very slowly,” Quinn whispered.