The Plug at the Bottom of the Sea (16 page)

She cried again, and Moses heard and became alarmed. Hundreds of heads turned in the dim light to see where this small cry had come from. The faces above the candles looked terrified. ‘What shall we do?' Cindy cried again. This time she was much more terrified for she had called the first time, believing, as she often did that what worried her would not worry others, or that it had already been taken care of. But in Moses' wise old face she saw fear, like a terrible mask.

‘Pass the word along to those in front,' he shouted quickly. ‘Tell them to hurry to open the door if they can.'

‘But hurry—it may be too late already!' The blue lights no longer looked friendly but frightening as they sped by. Cindy wished she could slow their speed arid yet the whole mad navy of thousands of boats still flowed along. Everyone was quiet for a moment as if waiting for something to happen.

Then the noise came in many languages from thousands of throats and lips, from beards and between teeth. They passed the word to one another along the chamber, each man to the man ahead, so loudly that Cindy feared no one could hear the real message.

‘Do you think we'll make it in time, Moses?'

‘I hope so for everyone, Cindy.' He looked ahead as they
neared the end of the heads of statues. He looked straight up. They were approaching the ceiling again in this chamber as they had in the War Chamber.

Far ahead there was a great noise of crashing boats and shouting men. Many torches flashed. Everyone strained their eyes to see the great door to the Entry Chamber.

The top of the door was visible now, above the water. Since it was curved, it looked like an Indian's bow with the water like the string, but rising higher and higher.

There it was! Dull bronze and metal-green in the torchlight. Hundreds of figures were pushing at the great bolt straining to lift it. The boats were packed solid and Craig felt their own boat scrape against the one ahead as they bumped.

‘What shall we do? Old man, how did the door get bolted? All the water must have come down through the hole.'

‘It did indeed, my son.' Craig could see the old man's white hair reflecting on the polished ceiling, just inches above.

‘But then how …?'

‘Ah. How? It was made to fall back in place when all the water came in. That's how the old king planned it, or his Chief Adviser from whom I have the honour to be descended.'

‘Then you are to blame …?'

‘Ah. Who knows who is to blame for acts of Fate … If it is decided that it must be so then it must …' But just then their boat jerked forward and the great green-brass doors burst open. A great ‘HOORAY' went up from all the crowd as boats and men flowed forward.

They passed between the doors with the metal fastenings large and bright under the torches. The strange carvings of king's processions in tiny dark lines appeared in the flickering light. Points of spears far below the surface were magnified by the bright water.

There, at the end of the Entry Chamber, was a crush of boats and fish like the pile in the Great Chamber. Packed like sardines, everyone waited for the water to push them up.

‘Craig, aren't you worried? We may be crushed in the hole.
Not everyone can be on top of this pile as it goes up.' Cindy was shaking with fright. ‘What shall we do?' she cried when Craig made no answer.

‘I don't know, Cindy. I'm as worried as you.' And they both looked up at Moses, who just shook his head.

‘Just keep your heads and push away from the walls so you don't get crushed. The water's coming up fast, so it should only take a few minutes in the hole to reach the surface. Keep your arms over your heads and get air whenever you can.' They could already feel the crush of bodies and wood begin.

Craig pushed away from the walls feeling the slimy seaweed slip between his fingers. He felt ropes fall tangled over his head, but he pulled them off quickly. They were rising along the wall now.

Faster and faster they were rising in the hole. Patches of candlelight between bodies showed only ships, ropes, and frightened faces. Here a leg, there a boot, somewhere a fish's fin, all rose fast in the splashing water. Boats slipped under their feet so it was impossible to tell what they were standing on, or if they were standing at all.

‘Hold your breath if we get caught for a few seconds,' shouted Moses from somewhere above them, over the loud rumble of movement.

Higher and higher the water rose, boats and fish were packed tight, crushing the sides of many ships together. But they were still all right. The walls moved by in the dark. The candle went out. Craig and Cindy could see nothing. They could only feel bodies on all sides.

‘It's like the Underground.' Moses laughed, trying to cheer them up. But his voice sounded strange, as if his mouth were out of shape. Craig and Cindy could take only very small breaths, they were so squeezed.

There was an enormous noise of scraping, shouting, cracking, and splashing in the dark. From one direction there came a cry in French, Russian, or Chinese; from below came Aztec, Zulu, or Portuguese. But most of the words they shouted or
grunted were unprintable because of course they were not in English. It was like the Tower of Babel as these layers of fish, men, and boats, all noisy in the dark, pressed up the hole.

First came the smallest rowboats and the dinghys, balancing their bottoms on the decks of still bigger boats below. Small sailboats came next, with the yachts and the yawls. Next came the schooners, the tugboats, the trawlers. Then came the tankers and the great ocean liners. Who could tell what order they were in when everything was pitch black and the noise was deafening? Everything was pressing and scraping against the walls so the water and air became warmer, and the metal boats, masts, and railings became quite hot.

Craig felt an oar against his tummy and an oarlock around his arm, fish scales against his cheek, and, for a moment, a fish tail in his mouth. The pressure grew, the speed was faster, the dark darker, the air hotter, and Craig felt as if he would burst. How long would this take? It seemed a year since they were at the bottom. Why did it take so long?

Cindy shuddered, remembering these walls and how long it had taken to come down. This was the end of her, she was sure of it, as she held on tight to Moses' arm and Craig's hair.

Craig felt the octopus slip its arms or legs (he never had found out which was which) around him just at the moment he saw a patch of light, or really a sliver of light, between Moses' and Noah's tummies.

‘Light,' he cried, but his squeezed face just shouted, ‘Hi.'

Cindy wondered what he was saying ‘hello' for at a time like this and tried to ask him. Craig finally loosened his face enough to whisper again, ‘Light.'

‘Light?' Cindy whispered, without enough breath to speak normally.

‘HOORAY,' another great shout went up from all those on top as they came into the light.

The walls became lighter and lighter as rocks gained colour and cracks zigzagged before their eyes up to the high rock cliffs above. Craig could see the tiny waterfall again, bright
against the dark ledges. It was so peaceful as it trickled over the edge of the hole, unaware that in a few minutes or seconds it would be swamped.

The tiny stream splashed a few drops in Craig's face as he looked up. But they were already pouring out of the hole.

They had no sooner come out of the hole and flowed up the mud hill a few hundred yards when they all stopped. The boats were motionless and fish were still. Water seeped and bubbled out of the hole and piles of boats and wrecks and silver fish scales filled the valley floor.

After being under the earth for so long, light seemed to explode before their eyes. They all squinted and could see only slits of the dark red mud. Dark shadows fell away over one hill under the great cliffs. Gradually they began to see.

Water spread up the valley as sailors on the hills kissed the ground before it disappeared under the sea. It was a moment of calm before the rise up the muddy cliffs. The peaceful cliffs were magnificent in the late afternoon sun. Pink clouds lit the sky above. Strings of seaweed hung sadly, quietly over the edge.

Suddenly fish were swimming, boats were floating, Captain Tiny was bobbing up and down in his life buoy surrounded by his penguins' heads. They all pushed him on top of a ship which surfaced next to them. Craig wondered if the captain would ever become an admiral, by making life so impossible for everyone that they promoted him in order to get rid of him. Or perhaps he would become famous for his discovery of these extraordinary penguins who could run his ships for him. He might even come to like them.

But many great stacks of boats stood, like strange totem poles, waiting for the water. Many men were unpiling their boats and pushing them up the sides of hills. The hills and the great valley were fast disappearing as the water rose.

Soaking wet and dripping, Cindy saw that the cliffs and weeds, once so horrible, now looked friendly. She took long deep breaths of the fresh air as if to clean out the cold and
fears from inside her. She breathed so deeply she felt faint and had to sit down. She felt happy. No more dreams, she ordered herself. Just sleep. Why she hadn't slept all last night.

On one end of their boat sat Mrs Mermaid with her husband and ten children, each one smaller than the next. They were all dangling their tails over the side. Mrs Mermaid was combing her long hair with her silver comb. When she finished she pushed it into her hair to hold it and called, ‘Into the water, everyone,' and, with a row of splashes, they all dived in.

‘Oh, no, are they leaving?' Cindy asked as she saw the green and silver tails disappear.

Moses smiled, as they waved from a long distance off. ‘She's a wise mermaid. These sailors are safe now and they would try to capture them.' He lit his pipe which, as always, steamed and fizzed till white smoke circled round his head.

Noah lit his wet cigar and, after a similar fizz, they were both puffing happily.

The old man with his book in his hand was still writing, holding up the bottle with the sea horse bobbing up and down inside. ‘That reminds me,' said Moses, uncorking the bottle. ‘Cindy, you can let the sea horse stop being a prisoner in here.'

Cindy blushed, for she had forgotten all about the sea horse. She took a long look at him before pouring him gently into the bubbling lake.

Captain Tiny on the other boat was not happy at all for he had just remembered something.

‘The jewels, Oh no! the gold, that plug.' But there he stopped, for the pecking penguins had each of his long moustaches and twisted them as he looked to either side.

The old man squinting in the light checked them all off on his list, content to write as his home disappeared lower and lower beneath the sea. Some day, thought Cindy, perhaps divers will find his home. They would find it hard to believe someone spent his entire life living down there and wasn't excited the first time he saw the sun. But it is true.

At this same moment Craig was wondering how they had come through these incredible days alive. Of course he hadn't really changed, but he did feel different. Perhaps there were bubbles inside him. He found his ears popping and he yawned several times till he could hear the splashing and calling of many crews. Cindy seemed older he had to admit. She seemed more grown up as he watched her brush her hair out of her face. She climbed out to the end of the long boom of the schooner and sat with her feet in the water till the boat began to float.

Perhaps she looked older because she had been underground so long, or maybe it was sea salt over her face and jeans. She couldn't be older in just these few days. Not really.

Both Cindy and Craig began to wonder whether anyone would believe their tale of the plug, or the hole, or the kingdom in the centre of the earth. But their thoughts were broken by the screech of Windmill the gull, circling high overhead as he wheeled around and flew down the far echoing valley of the newborn sea.

For copyright reasons, any images not belonging to the original author have been
removed from this book. The text has not been changed, and may still contain
references to missing images.
This electronic edition published in 2012 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,
London WC1B 3DP
First published in Great Britain 1967 by George Allen & Unwin Ltd
Copyright © 1967 Robert Boyden Lamb
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eISBN: 9781448209781
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