Authors: Cindy Myers

The View From Here (13 page)

BOOK: The View From Here

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“And you're worried being seen in baggie pants will harm your reputation?”

“Winston is my father's doing, not mine.” Maggie marched past her down the steps.

“And those are your father's pants,” Barb hurried to catch up with her. “If anyone accuses you of being eccentric, you can tell them it's in your jeans.”

Maggie groaned. “If you're going to subject me to bad puns all morning, we can turn around now.”

“It's almost afternoon,” Barb pointed out. “So get a move on. I want to have a few gold nuggets in time for cocktails.”

As they hiked along the path to the mine, Maggie began to feel a little better. The morning was crisp, but not too cold, and as always the view captivated her. “The tallest peak there is Mount Winston.” She pointed the peak out to her friend. “My dad's ashes are scattered there.”

“So he's still watching over you,” Barb said.

A chill breeze blew Maggie's hair across her face. She turned away from it and raked hair out of her eyes. “He never watched over me in the first place, remember?” she said.

“Have you found any clues as to why he never got in touch?” Barb asked.

“Not really. Maybe he didn't think he was cut out to be a father.”

They hiked in silence the rest of the way. Maggie began to feel better about the expedition. It would have been foolish to go into the mine by herself, but with Barb things would be all right. As soon as the situation got the least bit uncomfortable, she could count on Barb to want to leave. Maybe later Maggie would hire someone to investigate the mine for her. Someone who knew what they were doing. Someone with more guts than she had.

They stopped in front of the gate.
“No trespassing. Violators will be shot. Survivors will be shot again,”
Barb read the sign and laughed. “Who is Bob?”

“I told you about him. He's the old guy who thinks there's gold in the mine.” She searched through the keys on the ring she'd found in a kitchen drawer. “Which one of these keys do you think is the right one?”

“Just start trying them.” Barb practically vibrated with impatience, rocking back and forth on her heels.

Maggie inserted the first key into the lock. No luck. She repeated the process until the fifth key she tried slid smoothly in. “Houston, we have liftoff!” Barb cried, and grabbed hold of the gate as soon as Maggie slipped the lock from its hasp.

The gate was heavy. It took both women to pull it open, but it swung out quietly, with no ominous creaks and groans. Maggie stared into the opening. A tunnel a little taller than Barb with a smooth, narrow path extended into the darkness.

“This doesn't look bad at all,” Barb said, playing the beam of the flashlight along the gray rock walls. “No gold, though. It must be farther inside.” She led the way into the tunnel.

Maggie reluctantly followed. She thought of the tourist cave she'd visited near San Antonio a few years ago. She'd been nervous at first about that, too, but had gotten so caught up in admiring the fanciful formations on the walls, ceiling, and floor that she'd forgotten her fright. Maybe this wouldn't be much different. She didn't think mining tunnels had formations to look at, but she could distract herself by thinking about her father. He must have spent a lot of time here. What did he see in this mine? What had he discovered here? Was this the source of those mysterious bank deposits?

The tunnel began to slope downward. It also grew narrower, the ceiling lower so that first Barb, then Maggie had to stoop. “My dad must have had to double over to get in here,” Maggie said. She began to feel queasy, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps. Was this what claustrophobia felt like?

They turned a sharp corner. “Watch out,” Barb called. “There's water on the floor. It's a little slippery.”

Maggie flinched as an icy drop hit her face. She looked up and another splashed her in the eye. “Maybe we should turn back,” she said.

“No, this is interesting. No bats, though. There goes the guano empire.”

“Darn. I was already looking forward to designing bat-shit queen T-shirts.”

“I don't see any gold yet either,” Barb said.

“I don't think you're going to find nuggets lying around on the floor,” Maggie said. “I think I remember they found veins of gold in rock. They had to cut the rock out, then crush it and process it with chemicals to get at the gold.”

“What does the ore look like?”

“I have no idea.”

“Fat lot of help you are. You own a mine and you don't bother to find out these things?”

“When we get out of here I promise I'll run right out and get that geology degree.” She banged her shin on a rock. “This is ridiculous. We should go back.”

“We haven't even gone that far yet. Come on.”

“I'll leave without you.”

“No, you won't. I've got the flashlight.”

Maggie ground her teeth together but continued to follow her friend. Barb halted. “What is it?” Maggie asked, trying to see over Barb's shoulder.

“A fork in the road.”

“Is this another pun?”

“No, there's a side tunnel.”

“Don't take it. We'll get lost.”

“We won't get lost. I have a very good sense of direction.”

“Those are probably the last words of everyone who ever got lost in a cave.”

“This tunnel definitely looks like it's been used more than the other.” The flashlight beam wavered and dipped. “Look!”

“Look at what? I can't see anything but your back.”

Barb turned sideways and shone the light on a niche in the wall. There, on a shelf of rock, sat a half-empty water bottle, a small colored piece of gravel, and a small silver disk.

Maggie reached past Barb and picked up the disk. “It looks like a religious medal,” she said, recalling the St. Christopher medal a friend's mom kept hanging from the rearview mirror of the family car when Maggie was a girl.

“Which saint is it?” Barb asked.

Maggie studied the little figure. It was of a woman in a long gown, a halo on her head. She carried a glowing cup, and behind her was what looked like a tower. “I don't know.” She replaced the disk on the shelf.

“Was your dad religious?” Barb asked.

“I don't know.” Maggie shook her head. “I don't think so. No one's said anything to make me think so, and there's nothing in the cabin to indicate that. Maybe he found it in here, from whoever owned the mine before.”

“I think it's a sign we should explore this tunnel,” Barb shone her flashlight down the passage.

All Maggie saw was more rock. “Since when do you believe in signs?” she asked.

“Since they point to what I want anyway.” She started down the passage.

“What are we looking for?” Maggie asked as she followed her friend.

“Some sign someone's been working in here,” Barb said. “Maybe some chunks of rockâore. I'm thinking shiny streaks in the rock. I mean, we're talking gold here. It has to be shiny, right?”

“I haven't got a clue. Maybe we'll find another note for Bob: âLeave this gold alone!' ”

“Exactly. Uh-oh, it's getting pretty tight.” The light dropped down and Barb with it. Something tugged on Maggie's coveralls. She gasped and jumped.

“Don't be such a ninny,” Barb said. She was on her knees at Maggie's feet. “It's just me. There's a really narrow part here. We're going to have to crawl.”

The only thing about Maggie that was crawling was her skin. “Honestly, Barb, Iâ”

Barb gave another firm tug and Maggie was on her knees. “This is what real cave explorers do,” Barb said. “I saw it on public television.”

Muttering under her breath, Maggie crawled after her friend. “Your butt looks a lot bigger from this angle,” she offered.

“Go ahead and kiss it,” Barb said cheerfully. “Oooh, look!”

She stopped abruptly and Maggie almost plowed into her. “What?” she asked.

“More of those colored rocks. Almost like some of that colored aquarium gravel you can buy at the dollar store. But what would your dad be doing with that?”

Maggie looked at the half-dozen pieces of rock Barb held out to her. The largest was the size of a pea, the smallest a tiny chip, in various shades of blue and green. “You think that's aquarium gravel?”

“Yes, but I'm no expert. I haven't seen any since the boys were little. We had a couple of beta fish for a while. The cat got one and the other eventually succumbed to neglect.”

“I can't imagine why my father would have aquarium gravel, and certainly not in this cave.”

“Maybe they came from the mine.” Barb's voice rose with excitement. “Maybe that's where aquarium gravel comes fromâmines like this one.”

“Or maybe it isn't aquarium gravel at all. Maybe it's some kind of gemstone.”

“Gemstone?” The beam of the flashlight hit Maggie full in the face as Barb swiveled awkwardly in her crouching position to stare. “I thought this was a gold mine.”

“It is. I mean, this is a gold mining district. But my dad had a book that talked about gemstones being found in some of the mines.”

Barb squinted at the rock in her hand. It was tiny, tinier even than the diamond in Maggie's original engagement ring from Carter. “It's blue,” Barb said. “Is it a sapphire?”

“I don't know. I guess I should find someone who can tell me.”

Barb slipped the stone into the pocket of her shirt. “We should definitely do that. Maybe we can even find some more.”

She started to turn around again, but Maggie caught her elbow. “I've had enough,” she said. “We need to turn around. Give me the flashlight.”

Barb sighed and handed over the light. “You're right. My knees are killing me.”

They reversed course, Maggie leading the way this time. She decided she'd liked being behind Barb better. Up here the view of dark tunnel and encroaching rock unsettled her. She tried not to think about a whole mountain pressing down on her. Instead, she focused on how much her knees hurt and her back ached.

They'd been laboring a while when Barb spoke. “Shouldn't we be at that intersection by now?”

“I'm sure it's just ahead.” Though she wasn't sure of any such thing.

“I don't remember all this rubble before.”

“It was here, I'm sure. We were just too excited to notice.”

“Oh. Good. Because I was beginning to think we were lost.”

The word was like a jolt of electricity to Maggie. Her heart beat faster and she wouldn't have been surprised to know her hair was standing on end. “There's only the one passage,” she said. “We can't be lost.”

“There may have been some side passages between where we stopped and the intersection. In fact, I'm sure there were.”

“But we haven't turned. We've been going straight down this one passage.”

“We haven't turned, but we have sort of angled.” Maggie stopped and looked back at her friend. The flashlight illuminated Barb's smudged face, mussed hair, and muddy clothes. “You look like you've been mud wrestling.”

“So do you,” Barb said. “That doesn't make us any less lost.”

“Stop saying that!” Maggie brandished the flashlight.

“I think we should turn back. Retrace our steps.”

“We aren't walking.”

“Retrace our crawl, then.” She held out her hand. “Give me the flashlight.”

“No, the last thing I want to do is crawl deeper into this god-awful cave.”

“We should have brought that religious medal with us. We could say a prayer.”

“We don't know who the medal is. Besides, I don't believe in that stuff.”

“Not even a little?” Barb sounded wistful. “I do. At least I think I do. It's comforting.”

Maggie turned so that her back rested against the rock wall, her knees drawn up to her chin. Barb assumed a similar pose. “When I was little I prayed every day for years that God would bring my father back to me. After a while, I decided no one was listening, because nothing ever happened.”

“I'm sorry,” Barb said. “I never realized you missed your dad so much. You never said.”

“There didn't seem to be any point talking about it. And really, until all this happened, I'd pretty much stopped thinking about him.”

“Yeah.” They fell silent for a few seconds; then Barb nudged her. “Do you still have those cookies?”

BOOK: The View From Here

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