The outside air had cooled considerably, and a bit of a wind had kicked up. Elaine crossed the street to her car and pulled onto the main road. Then she headed back toward the entrance of town and turned toward a lower creek area. By the time she parked, the lightning was growing closer and the dark sky loomed overhead. The wind blew against her as she exited the car and stretched, tugging on her hiking boots, stretching her quads. Her blood began to pump in anticipation as the earthy elements awakened her senses and the beautiful environment lured her forward. She pulled on a light backpack containing water and a few snacks, a plastic bag full of matches, and an emergency blanket.
People crawled up the parking lot toward her, faces pink with sun, hair windblown. They looked pleasantly spent and happy, breathless but beautiful. Some greeted her; some warned her of the storm. She assured them she’d be okay and made it to the bottom of the parking lot where she climbed over a wooden fence. She could’ve taken the well-known path, but she didn’t feel she had time. So she cleared the fence and walked along the dry creek bed, creekside homes to her right, small creek to her left. As she walked, she took in the elements and held out her hands as if to thank whatever higher being there was for creating such a beautiful place. She closed her eyes briefly, thought of Barb, and whispered a prayer to her.
“I’m here,” she said and she imagined, no felt, that Barb said it in return. She opened her eyes and focused on the red rocks in the distance. The lightning cracked around them, and soon she knew it would break the shell of a dark sky and leak out rain. But she didn’t have far to go now. She found the path up to her right, left the homes behind and entered wilderness. The shade was cool and still, the breeze having gone, the calm before the storm. She hiked farther in, bypassed two more hikers with a smile, and then came to a stop at the area she was after.
“Barb.” She could feel her and her hair stood up on her arms. She smiled and a tear fell. Carefully, she removed her backpack and stepped into the center of the vortex. She was surrounded by trees and foliage, as if they were protecting it. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and held out her arms. The dizziness came at once, and she laughed nervously. “I’m here, Barb,” she said. Then she closed her mouth and spoke with her mind. She offered her energy up and out, wanting the vortex to take it. The dizziness intensified, and she knelt, placing her hands in the grass and leaves. She angled her head to the sky, felt a stirring deep within her chest. Her heart careened but in an excited way. Like it did at night when she was so damned tired but couldn’t settle to sleep. It pumped hot blood throughout her, and she settled down to sit as she felt it begin to pull up out of her skin. It tingled and toyed with her as if she were a puppet and someone above were pulling her strings. She knew if she opened her eyes she’d grow sick with dizziness and motion sickness and the feeling would be lost. So she kept her eyes closed and whispered, “Take me, just take me. Take me and make me feel. Put me back together again.”
She sat and swayed, and soon a drop of cold smacked her forehead. It startled her, but she laughed. Another fell, then another. She held out her hands and opened her eyes. White streaks fell from the heavy blue-black sky.
She was laughing when someone stepped into the clearing. Elaine couldn’t see very clearly.
“Sorry,” she said, trying to stand. “I’ll leave you to it.” But the person came closer and took her gently by the arm. Elaine at once looked at her. “Johnnie,” she breathed.
“We have to get you out of here,” Johnnie said.
Elaine tried to pull away. Her energy was still mixed up, swirling, alive with no destination. “No, I’m okay.”
It began to pour. Johnnie looked up; lightning splintering the sky.
“We need to make a run for it. Before that lightning is on us.”
“But I feel so good,” Elaine said. She held out her hands. “I need this. I can feel her.”
Johnnie stepped back. “Elaine, please.”
“Why are you here?” Elaine asked.
Johnnie looked to her left, hesitated. “Come on.” She held out her hand.
Elaine stood in the pouring rain. Johnnie looked serious, anxious. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed, scaring her. Johnnie found her backpack, picked it up, and again held out her hand. “We have to go now.”
Elaine moved, took her hand, and they hiked farther up. The trail was muddy, the tree roots slick. They lost footing a few times but kept on. Then Johnnie made a turn and they went off-trail. Thunder clacked again, directly overhead. Elaine winced.
“Up here,” Johnnie said. She spread through branches and brush, held them open for Elaine. They walked through and came to an opening in the rock face. Johnnie took Elaine by the waist and pushed her up. Then she jumped up and climbed inside. Johnnie took her to the back of the cave and tossed rocks into the darkness.
“Why are you doing that?” Elaine asked, heart still racing.
“Rattlers,” Johnnie said, before giving up and settling down. “They hibernate in dark places like caves. Just wanted to know if we were safe out here.” She offered a seat to Elaine. They were in the middle of the small cave, away from the lightning but away from the dark entrails where snakes or who knew what else might be hibernating.
Elaine was trembling and so was Johnnie. The rain was steady and heavy.
“It’s going to last an hour or so,” Johnnie said. She unzipped her jacket, took it off, and pulled off her long sleeve shirt.
“Here.” She handed both to Elaine.
Elaine waved her off.
“Elaine, take off your wet shirt and bra and put this on. It’s not a request, it’s not a nice gesture, it’s a demand.”
Elaine studied her a moment and then took them off. Johnnie was serious. She’d never seen her so serious. Slowly, she turned around and undressed. Her hands shook so badly she thought she might need help. But somehow she managed. When she finished, Johnnie stood, took her wet clothes, wrung them out, and laid them flat on the rock surface.
“Now your shorts,” Johnnie said.
Elaine stared at her.
“Again, not a request.” Johnnie looked away, arms crossed, and waited. Elaine peeled off her shorts. “I’m not taking off my underwear,” she said.
“You can cover up with my blanket.”
Elaine hesitated and then took those too off.
“Hand me your blanket, please.”
Johnnie unzipped her bag and pulled a soft blanket out of a waterproof bag. She handed it to her.
Elaine wrapped her waist and sat.
But something wasn’t right. Johnnie stood in a bra and wet shorts.
“Let’s share the blanket,” Elaine said. Johnnie sat and removed her shoes and wet socks. She ran both hands through her short hair.
“I’m good.”
Elaine laughed. “Bullshit. You’re shaking.”
She stood, opened the blanket, and eyed her. “Come on. It’s not a request.”
Johnnie blushed despite her cold state. She was careful not to look at Elaine below the waist. She crossed to her and they sat, blanket warming them both.
Elaine busied herself removing her shoes and socks as Johnnie had done. She laid them out to dry.
“What are you doing here?” Elaine asked. “Did Michael send you?”
Johnnie appeared confused. “I came with a friend.”
“And to the vortex?”
“I was coming here, to the cave.”
Elaine glanced around. “Are those…”
“Native American drawings? Most likely.”
“Are we supposed to be in here?”
“Probably not. But I’m not sure people know it exists. I only know because of Henry and Jolene.”
“Your friends.”
“Right.”
Elaine was amazed. “Imagine who they were, how they lived. How long ago they lived.”
“Henry knows. He can tell you. You should meet him,” Johnnie said softly.
The rain continued to fall, and the lightning and thunder shook their surroundings.
“Why are you out here alone?” Johnnie asked.
Elaine sighed. “I wanted to go to the vortex. I needed…”
“Barb,” Johnnie said.
Elaine got choked up and nodded.
Johnnie did something surprising. She pulled her close. “You’ll find your way,” she said. “Have faith.”