68.Cherry

Tripp smoked all the roaches down to nothing and ate the last ash. Then, to distract him from the pain, he and I told each other every story we could think of, going back to grade school and all the kids we knew who had shoved beans up their noses and peed on themselves and thrown up vegetable soup in class. We admitted that we had both, at one time or another, peed on our ownselves, and then we confessed to every single naughty thing we had ever done, from stealing a comic book to inching somebody’s chair out from under them while they stood in class to read so they sat on the floor. He had done a lot more naughty things than I had, but then he was a Catholic. Then we told all the jokes we could think of, clean and dirty, and finally we tried to sleep. I thought about trying to feel my way back out to the entrance of the cave, but I knew that was insane. I kept thinking about what had happened to the old Indian, and he, I’m pretty sure, was better at directions than I was.

Surely to goodness Bean wouldn’t just leave us down here. But if he had killed Carlene, he was capable of anything. He hadn’t seemed mad at Tripp or anything, though. He had called him buddy. But that could have just been to lull us into thinking he was really coming back so we wouldn’t try to follow him. I was heartsick thinking that Bean had killed Carlene. A lot of bad things probably happened to him over in Vietnam, and he must have started to lose his mind. That must be why he had gotten so bad with Baby. The drugs probably finished the job. That’s all it could have been.

But surely, even crazy, he wouldn’t do anything like that to us or to Baby. He was madly in love with Baby. As soon I thought it, that fact made me worry about her all the more.

Baby was outside. What if Bean had kidnapped her and taken off across the country? She wouldn’t be able to get to a phone and let anybody know where we were. Nobody would ever think to look for us down here—hardly anybody even knew these caves existed.

I prayed then like I had never prayed in my life. I promised God that if He would get us out of this fix, I would stop every sinful thing I was doing and go to church every Sunday, Sunday night, and Wednesday night, and volunteer to teach at Vacation Bible School. I hoped He bought it, but I was afraid that God was wise to people who only prayed to Him when they were in bad trouble and wouldn’t believe I would follow through on my promises. But I meant it. I really did. I prayed hard enough for it to get up to the surface and all the way to heaven.

—

“Tripp? Are you okay?” He hadn’t said anything in a long time. Maybe he was asleep. I may have dozed off myself, and I was in a cramp, but I was afraid if I let go of Tripp’s hand I would never find it again, so I shifted as best I could and kept hanging on. “Tripp?” I shook his hand. He stirred. Thank goodness he was still alive.

“Okay, Cherry . . . I’m okay. My leg hurts . . . I’m . . . just tired.”

His voice had gotten so weak. I tried to squeeze his hand to let him know it would be all right, but it was hard for me to flex my fingers. I had to move, though, or my arm was going to fall asleep. It was starting to hurt. If I could back out of this passage into the big room, I would be able to stand up and stretch. I wouldn’t go far. I would stay close enough to reach out and feel the entrance.

It was harder to back out than it had been to get in. I could just about get up on my knees, but they were so skinned that it killed me to put much pressure on them. I tried to push myself up on the tips of my toes and my elbows and scoot out backward, which took forever, because I kept collapsing. I never could do one single push-up in gym, and I wished now I’d worked harder at it.

It’s weird, but somehow the dark made it seem less claustrophobic, and while I can’t say I was getting used to it, I wasn’t as panicky as before. If I could get into the bigger room, I could yell. Maybe there were people looking for us right now.

I managed to get out and stand up. The air was a lot better outside the passage. I tried to remember what the room looked like. I know there were two big stalagmites right beside the entrance. But I was afraid to move more than a step or two.

I heard what sounded like a whirring sound. Oh Lord. It was the bats. They seemed like they were gearing up to take off. How did they get out of here, anyhow? There must be a hole nearby. Maybe somebody would be passing by the place where they flew out and would hear me if I yelled.

“HELP! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? HELP! WE’RE DOWN HERE!”

I yelled until my throat was raw, then I sat down inside the beginning of the passage. It must be nearly night if the bats were leaving. I felt the air move as they flapped their wings, making a sound like dead leaves rustling. I was afraid they would bump into me and get tangled in my hair, so I tucked myself into as small a ball as I could and huddled in the entrance to the passage where Tripp was. And for the first time all day, I cried.