Beloved Evangeline (22 page)

I finally turned to look at Simon and Nicky. I gave them a tiny wave, my expression tense. Nicky sort of grimaced a weak smile. Simon was shaking his head, open-mouthed, his palms turned toward the sky, pantomiming a well-known gesture: WTF?

I exhaled deeply, pulled out the small flashlight Nicky brought, and sunk to my knees. The cave “opening” was actually a smallish gopher-like hole. For reasons inexplicable, I pictured a box buried deep in the sand below the falling waters. But Nicky and I had never ventured quite this far—we had been adventurous, not stupid—so I had never actually
seen
the waterfall. We had only looked into the cave from afar or tried to peek inside from the top. I had no idea what to expect from here, except that going into this cave alone was a very bad idea.

Shining the light around the short cave delivered on those expectations. The cave ceiling was very low, maybe four feet at its highest point. Water seeped through from overhead. I had no choice but to alternately stoop and crawl on my hands and knees toward the sound of the waterfall.

In the darkness, something hit me in the face. Then again. And again. I waved the flashlight around wildly.
Bats
. Scores of bats flew through the cave. I flattened myself on the ground and began an army crawl to get as low as possible. Luckily I was not superstitious or easily frightened. I could feel the mud and algae on my face, in my hair. No telling how long this would take to wash off. Occasionally roots from the trees ensnared me and I struggled—with difficulty—to disentangle myself.

I crawled into several small tunnels only to find myself faced with dead ends. How was I supposed to find this thing again? Why could these things never be easy? It occurred to me that this quest was a kind of metaphor for life—you don’t know where you’re going or what you’re doing half the time. And, when you finally get there, it’s never quite what you expected.

Predictably, after exhausting every possible option, the last of the tunnels was longer and narrower than any of the others. Though I’m not claustrophobic
per se
, the confinement began to take its toll. The cave sloped down as I continued, forcing me to squeeze through the last portion as I struggled through hanging roots and vines. A long, narrow tunnel stood between me and the sounds of the waterfall.

I became stuck just once. Misjudging the height of the passageway, and after fitting my head through with deceptive ease, my body became lodged. Thinking I could force my way, I’d pushed it too far. My body became stuck so tightly I could move neither forward nor back. Knowing I had half an hour—at most—before Simon tried to come in after me, I clawed at the earth, pushing and pulling with everything I had. Unfortunately, my efforts, along with a profusion of kicking and swearing—two of my best skills—were of no use. Finally the exertion and panic overcame me, allowing my body to slacken and dropping my head into the muck.

Having room just room enough for my head to lay sideways—with water pooling nearly to my nose—a thought occurred to me for the first time: I could possibly die here. Were the water to rise much at all, I’d no longer be able to breathe. How long would my strength hold if I needed to keep it lifted?

The sounds of my labored breathing only pushed possible solutions farther away from me. To get free, I obviously needed my wits and not my strength, but at this moment critical thinking seemed all but impossible. The dim light from flashlight shone no farther than my visible breaths—similarly unhelpful. I felt the cave walls closing in around me.

The only other thought penetrating the fog was that I couldn’t remember having mud on my face as an adult. I tried to recall the last time that may have happened but came up wanting. I felt the mud oozing into my ear, down the back of my shirt. I fantasized that, the longer I stayed, the mud would envelop me, like a cocoon, embalming my lifeless body for posterity. Only I’d never actually be found because no one with the intelligence necessary to retrieve me would ever be coming down here.

I jerked my head back and forth in renewed panic, batting the mud out of my ear with psychotic fury. I succeeded only in spattering mud over the entirety my face. After breathing out a few jagged breaths of embarrassment, I dabbed at it with my shirt sleeve with slightly increased lucidity.

If I could not free myself, Simon would be here any moment to find me in this pitiable state, stuck like a pig and covered in mud. I pictured the aggravatingly smug look on his face after finding me in this muddy state.

Mud
.

With the butt-end of the flashlight and my only free arm, I jabbed into the mud alongside my left shoulder. A small indentation was formed, possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. After cursing my dullness of mind, I spent the next ten minutes digging my body out.

Squiggling my way free and crawling the length of the tunnel, I fell into a room 10 or 12 feet high with a waterfall streaming down near its center. Seeing this waterfall, which I had heard countless times as a kid but had never actually witnessed, took my breath away. I imagined myself being one of only a few—possibly
the
only—human being to ever be in this exact spot, take in this sight. I cursed the stupid tiny flashlight and all its failings. Had I brought a bigger one, I’d be in a better position to take in this splendor. I lingered for a few moments, trying to soak up glimmering water. As it was in the dim light, a sole explorer in an uncharted world, I somehow felt reborn.

I bathed in the falling water, its magic washing away the algae and grime. Sinking to my knees, I rooted around in the soft earth below. Miraculously, after only a few moments, I came across something unnaturally solid and rectangular. I shone the light as best I could and saw a dark shape in the mud.

Unearthing the chest, however, proved another matter. The mud and pressure had created a vacuum. I wasn’t strong enough to simply pull the chest up, so I had to dig. And dig.
And
dig. With my bare hands. Surprisingly, digging in the mud with my bare hands was not unpleasant. Squeezing the thick, oozing mud between my fingers was oddly soothing.

The problem was, digging underneath flowing water is not easily accomplished. As soon as you move some mud, more mud and water flow right back into the hole, filling it up again. I had to stop and think for a moment about how best to solve this problem. I searched the cave before finding a sizeable branch that I could use as leverage.

Only after I’d been working at dislodging the chest for some time did I realize something: I could not move my legs. My legs had sunk into the oozing mud, and seemed to even be sinking farther still. I knew better than to struggle at this point, but the impulse to do so was nearly overwhelming. Leaning over as far as my reach would go, I grasped at the vines surrounding the walls. After several unsuccessful attempts, I managed to get one in my grasp. I wrapped it around my forearm several times. With the vine securely wrapped around my arm, I dug down into the pit with all my strength. I gasped and sputtered as the water poured down over me, as I was unable to move away from it. Sinking further into the oozing mud, I wrapped the length of vine around the chest on all sides.

By the time this was finished, the mud was up to my waist.

Using the branch for leverage, I pushed underneath the chest to dislodge it. The chest moved only slightly, standing sort of diagonally, but I was sure this was the best I could do. I began to pull on the vine, with the hope of pulling myself and the chest safely out. The vine’s strength held, but a length of it pulled free from the earth, and I had to tie it in the middle to reduce the slack. The mud was now passing my chest. I fought off the panic rising in my throat. The chest seemed to sink farther the harder a pulled.
No
, I thought. I did not come this far to die like this.

I moved my body back and forth very slowly to loosen the mud, before pulling on the vine again. My arms strained and the veins in my neck felt as though they would burst. For what seemed an eternity, nothing happened. Then slowly, with water flowing over my chin, causing me to sputter out water I’d inhaled now and again, I could feel my body moving. As soon as my shoulders were free, the mud released the rest of my body more quickly. Pulling on the length of vine tied to the chest with all my might, I felt sure it would snap. But to my great surprise, the vine held, and the chest gradually bubbled up from the mud. With force, I freed up enough mud from around the chest to pry it loose, and as I pulled, it finally squelched free. There was no time to linger. Luckily, retreat was much quicker than exploration had been.

Simon was thigh deep on the outer bank, apparently on his way in to retrieve me, when I emerged from the cave. His shoulders slumped in apparent relief that he’d not be getting his white dress shirt dirty.

I swam back through the muck, one-armed, with difficulty, hugging the chest tightly to me. Simon reached down for me when I was near the bank and pulled me by the arm onto dry land. Using the momentum, I swung the chest from behind me, slinging it forward onto the ground. As I did, mud flung off the chest, spraying onto Simon’s face and ultra-white button down shirt, which he’d somehow managed to keep clean despite his dress pants and shoes being obviously ruined.

Simon examined the mud on his shirt with frozen eyes. I could practically see his blood pressure rising.

Things between us just seemed to keep deteriorating. “Sorry,” I whispered, cringing.

He just stared at me, devoid of emotion. A surge of anger pulse through me.

“
Really, why did you wear a
white
dress shirt out here in the first place?” I lashed out unexpectedly.

Simon tried to wipe off the mud with his hands, but predictably, it smeared. Finally, he gave up, turning to me. “Well,” he fumed, “I was kind of on my way home from work when Gavin called me in a rage about this ridiculous adventure, so I didn’t actually have time to change.
And
, I never imagined it would entail tromping through a swamp in the middle of the night, or
obviously
, I would have stopped by one of the many spelunking outfitters in
Jacksonville
...”

“
Cool. That’s what I thought.” Occasionally I
do
know when to admit defeat.

Once we were done fighting and cleaned off much as was possible, curiosity set in. Simon and Nicky were dying to know what was in the chest, and of course, so was I. It was locked, but the lock was so corroded, Simon stomped the lock into pieces with relative ease. We gathered around in anticipation, all three of us giddy to get the first glimpse of whatever treasures the box held. Simon opened the chest as the three of us held our breaths with anticipation, and as he opened it we saw.... nothing. I grabbed the box and turned it upside down, trying to shake whatever must be in there loose. Nothing shook out.

“
You just risked your life for an
empty friggin’ box
. I really thought I was going to find you dead in that cave. What is wrong with you?” Simon fumed, “You’re going to get yourself killed. You know, I’m beginning to wonder if you don’t deserve whatever happens to you.”

The heat rose to my cheeks; my eyes flashed. We both knew exactly what he was talking about.

“
Don’t
,” I responded in a low voice. I knew from past experience my current expression was the most dangerous in my repertoire.

Simon shook his head in disgust and turned away.

“
Sorry, Evangeline,” Nicky cringed, “I know you’re disappointed.... Did you at least get to see the waterfall?”

I tried to hide the anger and disappointment but know it showed on my face anyway. “
Amazing
. We should come back sometime, you know... during the day, with proper equipment.”

“
That would be great. I really wished I could’ve seen it with you.”

“
During
the day..
.” Simon apparently couldn’t help but interject sarcastically.

I shoved the box under my arm, unwilling to admit I’d wasted all that time and effort.

We made our way back through the swamp to their cars in silence, just the way we’d come in. Simon and Nicky had parked farther away, as Nicky had not quite remembered how to get here.

I drove them to their cars in excruciating silence.

Though I examined every millimeter of that box, nothing remarkable revealed itself. I even thought maybe there would be a secret panel in the bottom, underneath somewhere, but I didn’t find one. Three solid days and sleepless nights of torturous examination uncovered no secrets.