Wonderland Creek (48 page)

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” he said when I pointed out the mess he’d made. “The hole has to be big enough to squeeze through. Is the coast still clear?”

“Yes, as far as I can tell . . .” I felt shaky with nerves. My mind had spun with fear ever since Mack and I had begun this journey. Mack put his hands on my shoulders as if to steady me and looked me in the eye, his expression serious.

“I need you to stay here and keep watch for me. If anyone comes, don’t worry about me. You run into the woods, find Belle, and get out of here.”

“How is that keeping watch? I’m not going to leave you trapped in the mine. You said they would kill you if you’re caught.”

“True. But that makes it dangerous for you, too.”

“I don’t think they’d dare kill me. My family would ask too many questions if anything happened to me.” I didn’t say it out loud, but I clung to the hope that no one would dare to harm Mack, either, if I was a witness.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I exhaled, then nodded. Fear sat on my chest like a hundred-pound sack, making it hard to breathe.

We dropped to our stomachs on the wet ground and wiggled through the opening into the mineshaft. Mack went first. Once inside, I stood up and brushed mud and dirt from my clothes while he reached through the hole and tried to prop the splintered board in place so it wouldn’t be as noticeable.

“Can we light the miner’s lamp now?” I asked. “I can’t see my hand in front of my face.” Before Mack could reply, I head a rustling noise, like the wind rushing through the leaves, and I saw a dark mass moving and swirling just inches above my head. I recognized the sound from my experience with the bat in my bedroom, but this time it was multiplied a hundredfold. I crouched down beside Mack and covered my head, trying not to scream as the cloud of bats swarmed around us. At last, they poured out into the night, flying between the cracks in the boards that covered the entrance.

“They’re gone,” Mack said. I heard the relief in his voice.

“Can we please light the lamp now?”

“Not yet. We need to conserve fuel. I don’t want to use it all up before I have a chance to inspect the accident site.”

I felt shaky and out of breath. The shaft was as stuffy and airless as a closet and smelled like the coal cellar in the basement of my father’s church. “I’m having an attack of claustrophobia. How can the miners stand it in here all day?”

“They get used to it. Let’s start walking. We can follow the rail tracks for the coal carts. Here, hold my hand.” He groped in the dark until he found my hand. I couldn’t seem to breathe right. Mack’s breaths were rapid and shallow, too, as we inched our way forward, deeper into the mine. We were going to get lost in this cave, like Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher. The town wouldn’t hold another funeral for Mack, but maybe they would for me.

“I’ve read books that described ‘stygian darkness,’ ” I said, “but this is the first time I’ve ever experienced it.”

“How did they end—those books about stygian darkness? Happily-ever-after or not?”

“I don’t remember. I just remember the word
stygian
. I thought it was a great word.”

“Yeah, it is. I love words like that.”

“Me too. But stygian isn’t so great now that I’m experiencing it.”

“Careful!” Mack said when I stumbled over one of the railroad ties. I was shuffling forward with one arm outstretched, like a game of blind man’s bluff.

“The darkness feels so heavy!” I breathed.

“That’s how it’s described in the Bible, remember? During one of the ten plagues in Egypt, it was a darkness you could feel.”

“I don’t like it. And I can feel the weight of the mountain above us, too. Can’t you, Mack? It feels like the rocks are closing in on us.”

“That’s what comes from reading too many books. They give you an overactive imagination.”

“Well, you read a lot of books, too.”

“I know, and I’m having the same problem you are.” He gave a nervous laugh.

We edged forward in silence for a few minutes until I found it unbearable. The warmth of Mack’s hand was comforting, but I needed to hear his voice. “Talk to me, Mack.”

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“For starters, I don’t understand how you’re going to find the place where Hank was killed when we can’t even see each other.”

“I have my right hand on the wall alongside us. The accident report said the cave-in that killed Hank was in a shaft on the north side, which is on our right. I should feel an opening when we come to it.”

“Have you always been this courageous?”

“I’m not courageous at all. But I caused this mess, so I need to see it through. You’re pretty brave yourself to come along, even though this has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m not sure if it’s bravery or stupidity. I’ve never done anything like this in my life. In fact, I’ve never done anything!” The truth gave me a lump in my throat. “You asked me about my story . . . well, the truth is, I’ve never really lived. Delivering books to Kentucky was the most adventurous thing I’ve ever done. But ever since I arrived in Acorn, I’ve been forced to do things I’ve only read about in books. My entire trip has all the elements of a badly written novel, with you getting shot, the corrupt sheriff, the buried treasure, the feud . . . and now this! My life is going to seem boring when I get home.”

“But I’m guessing you’ll be glad to get back to normal.”

“You know, I don’t think I want my life to be the same as before. Home will look different, I think. And I’m different. I want to get more involved in life from now on, instead of just reading about it in books. I want to spend more time with people.” I was surprised by my own confession. “If I’ve learned anything while I’ve been here, it’s how important it is to have family and friends and people around us to share our lives with. Miss Lillie is so . . . unique. I could never forget her. Or Maggie and June Ann, either. Then there’s Ike and Cora and Faye and Marjorie and Alma. And the people on my route . . . they’re all such characters.”

“You must have friends and family back in Illinois.”

“I do. I even had a boyfriend. But I was never involved in Gordon’s life, not in a genuine heart-to-heart way. I’m ashamed to say that he was convenient and little else. No firecrackers ever went off. No romantic violins played music in the background when we were together. I’m thankful now that he broke up with me. What a tedious life we would have had.”

“What about friends?”

“I have a best friend, Freddy. But I’ve come to see that I used her without giving very much in return. Most of the time, the characters I read about in books seemed more real to me than either Gordon or Freddy did. I spent all my time reading instead of living.”

I didn’t know why I was baring my soul to Mack. Perhaps it was the anonymity of darkness that made it easier. Or maybe fear and the threat of danger had prompted the need to confess and repent. Either way, I was finally seeing the truth—seeing the light, as they say—even though I was in absolute darkness.

Suddenly, Mack lurched sideways and nearly lost his balance. “Sorry . . . There’s an opening here. Maybe it’s the side shaft. Stay here, Alice. I’ll go in a little ways and see where it goes.” He released my hand.

“Don’t get lost,” I called. I longed to beg him not to leave me, but I made up my mind to be brave. I could hear his shuffling footsteps for a minute or two, then silence. What if he fell into a hole? What if something grabbed him? What if he got lost and never returned? I stood in the darkness, alone, trying very hard not to scream. It seemed like an eternity passed before Mack called out, “I’m coming back. Talk to me so I can find you.”

“I’m here . . . keep following my voice . . . I’m right here.” I could feel his presence moments before he bumped into me and reached for my hand. I couldn’t even describe the enormous relief I felt from the comfort and warmth of another person, especially from Mack.

“That wasn’t the place we’re looking for,” Mack said. “It came to a dead end after only a few yards, and there was some equipment or something stored in there.”

We continued forward, hand in hand, following the rail tracks. I started babbling again, needing to hear my own voice. “I don’t think I could ever get used to this darkness. This must be what books call ‘absolute darkness.’ And didn’t Jesus say something in the Bible about sinners being thrown into outer darkness as a punishment?”

“Yeah, where there’s weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

“My father preached a sermon about hell one time, and he said we would not only be in total darkness in hell, but we’d be alone, isolated from other people and from God. You left me alone for only a few minutes back there, but I can see how spending an eternity like that would be the worst sort of hell.”

“That was one of the reasons I came back to Acorn. I felt so alone when I was up in Ohio on my own.”

Suddenly I ran smack into something hard and unyielding. I stumbled backward and fell, crying out in pain. Mack dropped to his knees beside me, feeling for me. “Alice! Alice, what happened? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I . . . I bumped into something.”

“Let me see.” He moved away from me, and I could hear his boots scuffing on the loose stones as he felt around in the dark. “It’s an ore cart. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they would leave one parked in the middle of the tracks. Are you hurt?”

“Nothing seems to be broken or bleeding. My shins feel bruised, but I’ll be okay.” He helped me up, then switched places with me.

“You feel along the wall for a while, and I’ll follow the tracks in case there’s another cart in the way.” We started shuffling forward again.

“How far have we walked?” I asked. “And how far does this mineshaft go?”

“I’d say we’ve gone about half a mile. But the shaft might be miles long. And we’ve been going slowly downhill—have you felt it?”

“No. And I did not need to know that fact. I feel like I’m buried alive as it is.”

I lost all track of time as we continued walking. Twenty minutes or two hours might have passed, I didn’t know. My bruised shins throbbed. We moved slowly as if blindfolded, following the rail tracks. My left hand was in Mack’s and my right hand trailed along the cold, rough wall, feeling for an opening. The thought of retracing our steps made me want to sit down and cry, but the alternative—being lost in here forever—was unthinkable.

Right then the wall vanished and my hand groped empty air. “Mack, wait! The wall just ended. There’s an opening here.” He let go of my hand to investigate, and I heard him moving around in the dark.

“There aren’t any rail tracks going in,” he said, “and the opening is about six feet wide. Wait here for me, Alice. Keep facing the way we’ve been walking so we don’t get turned around accidentally.”

Great! That was another catastrophe I hadn’t thought of—that we might get disoriented and confused and end up walking in the wrong direction without realizing it. There was no way to tell in the dark. I sat down on the cold stone floor beside the opening in the wall and waited for Mack to explore it. The mine entrance, I told myself repeatedly, was behind me.

Mack was gone even longer than the last time. I hated waiting all alone. I began to sing to keep loneliness and fear at bay, and I chose—appropriately enough—the hymn “Rock of Ages.” It was comforting, even though I sang very softly.

“Alice . . . ?” Mack’s voice sounded muffled and far away. “Alice, are you there?”

I scrambled to my feet. “I’m right here . . . Can you hear me?”

“Yes. Listen, I want you to turn around and walk back toward the mine entrance.”

“What? Why?” He still sounded a long distance away and didn’t seem to be coming toward me. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I think this might be the right place, so I’m going to light the lamp. You need to get away from here in case there’s an explosion.”

“An explosion!”

“Sometimes the gas builds up and the spark might set it off when I light a match.”

“Mack, wait—!”

“Just do it, Alice. Right now. Follow the tracks back a ways. If you don’t hear an explosion, wait five minutes, and then come back.”

I did what he said, my knees trembling as I backtracked. This time the unbroken silence was welcome—it meant no explosion had occurred. Time passed, and I kept glancing over my shoulder, hoping to see the glow of Mack’s miner’s hat, but the same inky blackness filled the shaft in both directions. When I thought five minutes had passed, I turned around and walked back, feeling along the wall for the opening.

“Mack?” I called when I finally came to the void. “Talk to me, Mack . . . I’m coming toward you, but I don’t see your light.”

“This way . . .” He sounded miles away. “I’ll walk back to you. You should see my light in a minute.”

I inched forward, my hand on the wall to guide me. “I still don’t see it . . . Keep talking to me . . .” The floor was very rough, more uneven than the floor of the main shaft had been. When the beam of light finally burst through the darkness, it nearly blinded me. I squinted and held up my hand to shade my eyes. Even so, a shining light had never looked so wonderful to me before. Mack aimed the beam down toward the floor so I could see where I was walking, then he turned and led the way once I caught up to him.

“This way, Alice.” We could barely walk side by side in the narrow shaft. The ceiling was a mere inch above Mack’s head. The tunnel curved, continuing on for several yards before ending in a pile of rubble that had obviously fallen from a huge hole in the jagged, gaping ceiling.

“This is where Hank died,” Mack said quietly. “You can see where they moved the rubble to dig out his body. And some of these rocks still have the drill holes in them.”

I watched as Mack spent several minutes looking all around, shining his head lamp on the ceiling, on the wall at the end of the tunnel, on chunks of rubble. I had no idea what he was searching for. Mack probably didn’t know, either. When he turned to face me, I had to shield my eyes from the glare again.

“There’s no coal here.”

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

“It’s good as far as our investigation is concerned. It means that Hank’s death must have been staged. The investigators looked at how the charges had been set and if they were defective or not, but no one thought to look for a vein of coal. Why would the mining company tell Hank to set charges in this shaft if there wasn’t any coal?”