Lost at Running Brook Trail (7 page)

“More S
urvivorMan
.” Kimberly sighed. “And what are we going to cut these branches with, pray tell?”

“We’re going to use our imagination and break them off at the joints. Plus, I should have a knife.” Elaine searched around in her bag.

“Why do you have a knife anyway?” Miriam asked.

“My silly brother was having a laugh at my expense for being sent on this fun trip. So he says ‘E’—he calls me E for short—‘you may need this and this and these for your forage into the woods where you’re going.’ He tosses me a Swiss Army knife, a lighter, a little first aid kit and some other stuff in a bag that I haven’t even looked at. He does and says all this while guffawing and carrying on.” Elaine finally retrieved the knife from the bag and unfolded all the blades, nail file, corkscrew and other tools from the handle. It was an abnormal apparatus with all the various parts sticking out.

“The knife seems like a good idea now,” Miriam said, “but why would he give you a lighter?”

“His exact words? To roast deer meat.”

“He’s a comedian. But yet you took all the stuff he gave you.”

“I don’t know. I like to pack stuff up. I’m always afraid I might need something and not have it.”

“You’re a pack rat.”

Elaine shrugged.

They started to break off and gather the branches, leaving them near the mouth of the cave. Elaine tried to saw her way through the branches, which was difficult work when you only had a small blade. She alternated frustrating cutting and breaking off limbs with her bare hands like the others.

Susan worked slowly, breaking off one or two branches and then stopping to stare at the cave.

“You have to commit to this, Susan,” Elaine told her, “we’re all doing it.”

“I didn’t vote to sleep in any cave.”

“Sleeping in the cave or outside it, we would still be making a bed so that we don’t lose all our body heat.” Elaine was having enough trouble with blisters she was developing on her index finger from the knife pressing into it without arguing with Susan about her vote.

“You know, Susan”—Miriam dragged three branches behind her—“this vote was done in a democratic way. Three out of four is a majority. It really doesn’t get any fairer than that. That’s how they decide on some activities at school. They say, ‘Here are your two or three choices.’ We all tick the one we want and stick our preferences in a suggestion box. They tally the suggestions, the most votes win and we all go on a trip to the zoo when all I wanted was to go to BMO Field to watch soccer.” Miriam dropped the branches and kicked them closer to the growing pile.

“I wanted to go to the zoo,” Susan said.

“Well, it worked out for you that time. That’s how it works. Sometimes you get what you want and sometimes somebody else does.” Miriam walked back to a tree with low branches and began to break some off. She walked back with a small bundle.

Kimberly broke off one at a time and walked back and forth each time.

“It was more realistic to go to the zoo than BMO Field.” Susan had been breaking off the same branch for quite some time.

“That’s a matter of opinion, but I guess it’s also more realistic to sleep in the cave.”

“Personally, I wanted to go to the textile museum,” Kimberly interjected, “but no one asked. It wasn’t an option.”

“For what, to look at cloth?” Miriam had a pile now. She decided to drag it to the others.

“For your information, sometimes they have cutting-edge pieces from some of Canada’s top fashion labels. It would have been fun to see the connection between cloth, as you call it, and fashion.”

“That’s wonderful, but the only
cutting edge
”—Miriam formed her index fingers into inverted commas—“that’s going on now are these branches. You don’t have to go to a museum to make the connection between textile and fashion. We’ve been wearing clothes for like what, the last couple thousand years?”

“Someone like you wouldn’t understand. It’s not just clothes, it’s fashion and art.”

“Someone like me?” Miriam dropped the branches that she was dragging behind her to look at Kimberly. “Do you mean someone who doesn’t have a grand sense of self-importance? Or someone who doesn’t have a history of hanging out with people who make fun of other people? Do you mean I’m not someone who thinks the world revolves around me? Or could you mean that I don’t think my own trivial discomforts are worth everybody’s specific attention?” She picked up the branches again and dragged them toward the cave. She looked back over her shoulder at Kimberly. “You’re right. Someone like me wouldn’t understand.”

“Jeez, I just meant that she wasn’t into cutting-edge fashion that has elements of art. I didn’t mean she should go off the deep end and give me a speech.”

Susan’s hands were breaking branches, but her heart wasn’t in it. What were they doing sleeping in a cave where dark creatures could be awaiting them? Miriam had told her that the decision had been based on a democratic process, so it was fair. What a load! That’s what they said in classes at Anne Beaumont too, that democracy was government by the people, for the people and all that good stuff that they drilled into gullible heads. But her father had told her not to be fooled. He said majority rules and the individual suffers. And here his words had come to pass, and she was about to sleep in a cave.

The separation of the branches from the trees continued in silence for a while. Each girl wrestled with her own thoughts. After a while there were enough limbs to make a decent bed. All the branches were gathered at the cave’s mouth.

“Now what?” Kimberly asked, looking down at the huge pile of branches, which was now quite high. “This isn’t going to be comfortable.”

“Now we put the bed together, either inside the cave”—Elaine pointed into the darkened cavity—“or right here and then we take it inside.”

“We can’t put it together out here. We’d need cord or something to tie with, which we don’t have. Even if we did have cord we wouldn’t have enough to do it out here.”

“Inside then,” Elaine said.

The sky oozed a sort of liquid orange and the air felt chilled.

“We don’t know what’s in there,” Susan said. “We don’t know what’s in there,” she repeated, and each time her voice became higher and more fearful.

“Listen, Susan—” Miriam started to say.

“I’m not going in there,” Susan shouted at the top of her voice, placing her hands over her ears. With that she started crying uncontrollably. Tears ran down her face and she started to howl like a coyote in pain.

“If she keeps this up,” Kimberly said, “maybe someone will hear her and find us.”

With her hands still planted firmly over her ears, no one could talk to her. Elaine went to stand in front of her and pried her hands away. She held one of the hands by her side while Miriam held Susan’s other hand.

“You’re being hysterical, Susan.” Elaine tried to make her own tone even. She didn’t want to raise her voice and make the girl any more frantic. “Let’s talk about the cave in a calm, reasonable way.”

Susan’s desolate cries now turned to sobs.

“Susan, we’re going to let go of your hands. We can’t stand here holding hands all evening.” Elaine looked into Susan’s eyes. “You’re going to promise to listen to what we have to say and not put your hands over your ears. It’s not nice to be talking to someone who’s not listening. In fact, it’s kind of rude.” Elaine slowly released Susan’s hand, and Miriam also did the same. Susan’s hands remained at her sides.

“Tell us the reasons you have a problem sleeping in there.” Elaine pointed at the cave but kept her eyes on Susan’s tear-stained face.

Susan didn’t speak immediately. She daubed at her face, smearing the tears. “I don’t like those drawings,” she finally said, “all those things could be in there.”

“You mean half-human and half-animal creatures?” Elaine asked.

“Yes, and if we touch the pictures, that’s how they come out.”

Kimberly laughed loudly and rolled her eyes.

“You think you’re going to release some Indians by touching a cave? Okay, you think that if they came they would be taking you alone? You’re special, but probably not enough to be the sole person taken. They would take all four of us.” Miriam waved her finger around in a circle and laughed at the absurdity of the idea. “So you would have company. Or maybe they would only take the person who touched the drawings. In that case, all you have to do is not touch!”

“Let’s not joke about this, Miriam,” Elaine said. “She really believes what she’s saying and has real fears. Susan, remember what they taught us in school about this?”

Susan shook her head. She only had an obscure memory of even studying the history of the first people. But she had recalled something about releasing sacred energy and power by touching the depictions.

“These cave paintings and carvings were just two of the ways that the Indians communicated their religion, laws and history. It’s just like right now. Art is for enjoyment and self-expression, but it’s also a means of passing on ideas and values. There’s no reincarnated person or half human inside the cave, and we can’t release anything by touching a picture. If you went to the AGO, would you go in or would you think that some of the art is going to come to life and attack you if you go into the gallery and touch something?”

“It’s not dark in the AGO. And they say not to touch the artwork.”

“She has a point there,” Kimberly said.

“Not touching is for preservation. It’s not because some ancient power will be released. We’ll find some way to get some light in there. That’s the only way we’re going to see where to put the bed. I have a lighter and Kimberly has a cell phone and an iPod.”

“What do my Storm and iPod have to do with anything?”

“You won’t be listening to music, and there’s no signal out here, so we may as well use them for something like light.”

“You’re just going to kill the bloody batteries!”

“We’re just going to use them to survive.” Elaine looked at Susan. “What else?”

Kimberly pouted but said nothing more.

“There may be bears and other animals in there. Animals are smart and know caves are good places to hide out and seek shelter. They live out here, so they probably know this better than us.”

“Okay, okay.” Elaine nodded. “That’s a really valid point. It’s a great place for us to sleep if it’s safe, but we don’t know what’s in there. So we’re going to check it out.”

Susan literally jumped back. “I can’t check it out!”

Elaine held up her open palms. “I meant me and Miriam. You and Kimberly will stay here until we give the all clear.”

Kimberly was still pouting about her electronics being used as a source of light in the cave. “You volunteer me to stay here; how do you know I want to stay out here? I might want to look in the cave.”

“I’m not staying here alone,” Susan said.

“Kimberly, do you want to accompany Elaine inside instead of me?”

“No, I don’t want to. I just want you guys to ask my permission for me to stay or go.”

“Of course.” Miriam tilted her head back, looked at the orange sky and took a deep gulp of cold air. “You’re the focus of our entire existence. You’re not helping with solutions, but you will not just go along with the plan that is made. You know what, give us the phone and the iPod.”

Miriam held out a hand. Kimberly obviously didn’t like Miriam’s tone, so she refused to hand over the gadgets.

“I could take them out of your pockets, and I would so enjoy it.” Miriam rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Kimberly stepped back. She almost stepped back into Elaine. With Kimberly directly in front of her, Elaine said, “Just give me the things so we won’t have another silly cat fight.”

Kimberly reached into her pockets and handed the phone and iPod to Elaine.

“She robs me of all joy.” Miriam spoke to Kimberly but referred to Elaine. “She saved you from a good smack-down, UFC style.”

Elaine searched through her bag, found the lighter and then walked toward the cave with Miriam, who carried the Storm and the iPod.

Susan and Kimberly sat on a rock. Susan rummaged through her bag, found more chocolate bars and ate another two. It felt good to have this comfort when she felt so fearful and even terrified.

“She’s a big bully! That’s what she is. Don’t you think so?”

“No.”

“How could you not? She’s quarrelsome and overbearing and tries to intimidate me.”

“Are you intimidated?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a bully.”

“She’s just mad.”

“About what?”

“How would I know? Maybe you rub her the wrong way.”

“Why would I rub her the wrong way? Why not you or Elaine?”

Susan ate her chocolate bar and thought about the faded native pictographs. Whatever Kimberly’s beef with Miriam was, it was secondary in her thoughts. What if the cave collapsed inward?

“Want some chocolate?” Susan asked to divert her thoughts from the collapsing cave.

“No, too many calories.” Kimberly picked up dried twigs, which she snapped apart at intervals. The snapping sound perforated the cool, silent air and created a false rhythm of normalcy. “She’s probably just hating on my looks.”

“What?”

“Miriam, she’s a hater.”

What was Kimberly’s ongoing obsession with Miriam’s motives? They were going to sleep in a place where they couldn’t even tell night from day. It would be a whole new world inside there. Susan was still afraid of whatever was inside. Why would that dark hole be any different from everything else? The lawns of Anne Beaumont were pristine. The school was on an estate filled with trees. It was gated, and it all gave an impression that high scholastic achievement was going on inside. It all screamed social prestige. And that was exactly what you would find on the inside. The school had a pass rate in the high nineties. There wasn’t a lack of resources either, as the school had many affluent donors. So it was either brains or wealth or both. This was obvious on the outside and further cemented on the inside.