CAVE ANGEL continued...
By J. L. Kerry

     "You're right. That's much better than a flashlight," I acknowledged. Then I wondered how long it would last and asked the question.
     "Less than an hour. Oughta be plenty. We'll refuel at the end of the cave whether we need to or not; there's water there," he said with assurance. "And I have a couple pouches of carbide. The light'll get kinda faint by the time we get there," he warned.
     So, we still need the flashlights, I concluded.
     "We never do this without back-up light, and a back-up for the back-up," he added, as if reading my thoughts.
     It was a reassuring things to say and an indication of this thoroughness. "I don't see anyone looking for a way out," I said, getting back to the mission.
     "You won't. For a while anyway. If he were this close to the entrance, he'd be out. We need to go through to the end to be certain." Then he added softly, "If he is in here, he may be in bad shape.
     The warning was not lost on me.

***

     The separation between floor and ceiling continued to increase as we pressed through stagnant air and the pervasive humidity of the cave. The path was serpentine, wandering one way, then the other, but maintaining the same general direction, and I wondered if we were directly beneath the road or beyond it. I swung the beam from my flashlight upwards, noticing a ledge twenty feet or so above us, and wondered what lay hidden there. I began to appreciate the size of the cavern; one would never guess it from the obscure openings so far from the road.
     "We'll come back that way," Thornton said, anticipating my thoughts. "The cave has two distinct levels. We'll continue on this level until we reach the end... and water. That'll be in a large room with a table-like formation. It's the only place where the cave is still growing."
     So I would see what lay beyond the ledge on the way back, I surmised, surprised to feel a sense of anticipation, a thrill of discovery that pushed remaining doubts into a tiny corner of my mind. As long as we had light...
     We plodded on and I admired the formations as we passed them: columns, stalactites, stalagmites and a few remains of thin, hollow formations called soda-straws, all arrayed in a formation that grew smaller from left to right, reminding me of organ pipes from low bass to high C. They were dry and largely devoid of color. Dead.
     Spooky. The cave was silent as a tomb; footsteps and breathing were the only sounds. "Do you really think we'll find someone?" I asked to break the silence.
     "No. I suspect it's a wild goose chase. We didn't see any cars parked alongside the road. It would be too far to walk. The boy is probably back home now from... whatever he shouldn't have been doin'."
     The possibility of a trail bike came to mind, but then we didn't see that either. "I certainly hope so," I said. Then, on a hunch: "You seem to know your way around... do you rescue very many?"
     Thornton was silent for awhile. Finally, "This is the first one in two years."
     I thought about that. He walked through the cave as though he could do it in his sleep. "You come here anyway? Just to... sight-see?"
     "Sort of..."
     I didn't push the question. We walked on, the path well defined -- another confidence-booster. If it stays this easy, one could probably find their way out in the dark if they had to. I didn't know how naive I was.

***

     The light from the carbide lamp was noticeably dimmer now. Our methodical steps had brought us into an area that seemed to just open up until it became a large room and -- if one does not count mountains -- the largest piece of rock I had ever seen lay in front of us.
     "God a-mighty!" Thornton said.
     "What?" I looked around for wild animals even though I knew better.
     "The table-rock. It's cracked into three pieces. Last time I was here it was one piece, like a giant's breakfast table."
     "Too many visitors jumping up and down on it, maybe?" I offered.
      Thornton snorted. "Hardly. It'd take a lot more than that."
     "Disturbance from nearby lead mines?" I tried.
     He paused, then shook his head. "No active mines that close. Only thing I can think of is a seismic event. A small earthquake."
     What a cheerful thought! What if one occurred now? Would we be trapped forever? I shivered at the images of huge rocks crashing down and crushing us, or worse, being buried alive. I could not imagine a worse fate.
     "The New Madrid Fault seems too far to the southeast, but that's the only thing that comes to mind," he continued his mental analysis as the dwindling light played over the far side of the "table." He started across the rock. "Want a hand? Water on the other side. Our refueling stop."
     I accepted the hand, and as we moved across the monstrous, cracked rock, I could hear water dripping. Thornton pointed to an area of small, wet and colorful stalactites, dripping their drops into a pool of water, which I guessed would be very cold. He knelt beside the pool and I positioned my flashlight to shine on the carbide lamp as he blew it out, separated the two halves and shook out the nearly spent fuel into a plastic bag.
     "Phew! That smells awful," I said, wrinkling my nose.
     "And it's not something you get used to, but... everything has its drawbacks," he said with a shrug. Then: "Turn off your light for a minute if you want to see what dark really is."
     I didn't. I had done it in commercial caverns and it gave me chills. In the outside world, there is almost always some light, even if only starlight or the distant diffuse illumination from houses or streetlights. But in a cavern the darkness is absolute. I equated it with death and my mind created images of my soul wandering alone in fear and darkness.
     There were mitigating factors in commercial caverns: there was the company of other people to share my fate; there were paved walkways with handrails that could be followed. But I had faith in Thornton and, not wanting to impugn his competence, I switched off the flashlight. I looked around and saw nothing but the expected total blackness, holding the fear in check. If Thornton weren't right beside me...
     "Put your hand in front of your face," Thornton suggested.
     I did it to please him, not that he could see me. I waved my hand around, almost touching my eyes. I flicked the light back on. What if the light bulb had picked that moment to burn out?
     Thornton chuckled, perhaps guessing my thoughts. I had a feeling he could refuel his lamp in absolute darkness without spilling a single carbide crystal.
     In less than a minute, his still limber fingers expertly accomplished the re-load, and the lamp was young and macho again. This time I didn't jump when he stroked the flint wheel. Thornton played its beam over the pool where he had scooped water to fill its tiny reservoir.
     "This is the only active part of the cave," he lectured. "I'm thinkin' that if one had a wet-suit and an iron constitution, he could dive under those formations. The cave could open up and continue for God knows how far on the other side.
     "Then again, it might not," he added with a shrug.
     I hoped he would never attempt such an exploration. I watched him stare at the pool and the formations hanging above it, sensing, even sharing, his fascination. "You do come here often, don't you," I said, almost a whisper.
     A pause, then: "Yes."
     There was no need to ask why; I was certain now. This is where he talks to Eileen, in total darkness and silence: a place to sort things out, remember his youth, chuckle at the fun times, ponder regrets, consider the empty future, let the tears flow; pray...
     "We better get going," he suggested, and took my hand.
     We went halfway around the table-rock and started on a path that led upward, gently at first, then more sharply as we moved to the upper level of the cavern. Still ascending, we picked our way around thin columns and stalactites for about a hundred feet before the path began to level out. To our right, the floor sloped gently downward for several yards, then more steeply as it began its descent to the first level some twenty five feet below us, I estimated. We walked on: stooping, dodging, ducking.
     I stopped to catch my breath and brush my hair back -- an automatic reflex in the semi-darkness -- and heard a faint, wheezing sound. I knew it wasn't Thornton. An animal? A kid? The kid?
     "Grandfather?" I knew my hearing was sharper than his.
     "What?"
     "Something over here." I played my flashlight to the right and down the slope that led to the drop-off. The beam found a leg, then centered on a prone figure.
     "God a-mighty," Thornton said softly this time as he saw the youth and where he was lying: within inches of the ledge.
     We moved as quickly as we could toward the boy, ducking the formations that hung from the ceiling -- most of them, anyway.
     We each took an end and nudged him gently away from the drop-off, and I wondered if we were making compound fractures out of possible broken bones. I put the light on his pale face and saw no reaction, then searched for his pulse from a wrist that seemed far too cold. It was there: weak, thready, but definitely there. Thornton pointed to the back of the boy's scalp. I leaned over and saw the gash lined with dried blood. I was certain he was in shock.
     We gently turned him on his side and I looked again at the boy's face and short, sandy hair, and guessed he was about fifteen years old. I gently poked at his body and limbs, and doubted he had broken anything. He wore jeans, a short-sleeve shirt and a ragged pair of tennis shoes. The short sleeve shirt was a poor choice for such an adventure. And so were the tennies.
     I poked some more and felt the flashlight hidden under the tail of his shirt. I gave it to Thornton.
     Thornton flicked it on and the filament in the bulb glowed red briefly, then faded to black. It was obvious what had happened and I shuddered as I thought of the boy's panicky flight from a darkness he could not escape.
     "We better get outside and back to the Blazer where we can call for medical help. They'll need a stretcher, I'd guess," Thornton said.
     I looked down at the boy. What if he regained consciousness and moved? He could go over the ledge. But there was little else we could do, except... The obvious thought formed in my mind and I realized what I would have to do. Oh Lord. I screwed up my courage. "You go," I said, surprising myself. "Someone needs to make sure he doesn't crawl to the ledge and..."
     "Alene..."
     "And I can keep him warm. Did you notice how cold he was?"
     "Ahhh..."
     "I would only slow you down. I'll be all right. We'll just... wait for you." I said with a smile, knowing it was faint.
     His jaw moved as he groped for words, struggling with the idea of abandoning me. I was certain he had sensed my fear.
     "Sure?" he finally asked.
     "Yes. It'll be okay." There really was little choice. He could quickly and easily find his way out. I wasn't sure that I could.
     "All right. Be back as soon as I can. Don't go wanderin' and conserve the light."

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