A Boy Called Duct Tape (15 page)

“I don’t know about this, Monroe,” I said, gazing at the wobbly bridge. I should have complained more, but Pia was convinced there was nothing to it. Ho-hum. Crawling across a 750-foot-deep hole. No big deal. Besides, as Pia reminded me, we had all agreed to Monroe’s game.

“I can do it, Pablo,” Pia said, holding my gaze. “I’m not afraid.”

“Not to worry, Pablo,” Monroe said, his face all business. “I would not propose this if I thought the ladder wasn’t strong enough. Now grab me around the waist—anchor me to the floor.”

“Are you sure, Pia?” I asked. “I don’t mind going first.” My stomach was in the early stages of twisting into a pretzel.

“I’m sure,” Pia said, placing her hand over her heart. “I can’t even feel my heart beating. I feel really calm.”

I rolled my eyes, and walked over to where Monroe stood at the end of the rotting ladder. I wrapped my arms around Monroe’s waist, and locked my fingers together. The image of Pia slipping off the log bridge and falling into the deep pit wormed into my head, but I managed to push it away.

“Ready?” Monroe asked Pia, taking all the slack out of the rope and holding it taut.

“Uh-huh,” Pia said. She gave me a quick look and a little smile.

Walking to the edge of the pit, Pia dropped to her hands and knees, and then crawled up and onto the manmade ladder.

“Easy,” I said, trying to breathe.

Grasping either side of the ladder, Pia advanced by placing her knees on each limb-rung, which were spaced closely together. The ladder bowed under Pia’s weight as she advanced on all fours, one slow inch at a time. I swallowed what little saliva I had.

“Easy,” I encouraged a second time, hands clasped around Monroe’s waist.

Pia was halfway across when the ladder began to bend.

“Stop, Pia!” I shouted, still holding tight to Monroe.

“It’s okay,” Monroe said in a relaxed voice, talking to me over his shoulder. “The ladder has absorbed moisture over the years—it’s elastic.” He turned back to Pia. “Go ahead, Pia.”

The wooden ladder creaked and swayed beneath Pia, but it held together in one piece and she crawled to safety on the other side of the black pit, and then jumped into the air. “Yes!”

Pia’s echo came back at us.

“Good job, Pia!” Kiki exclaimed. She and Pia did a long-distance fist bump.

Pia pulled the noose up over her head and tossed it back across to Monroe. “That was awesome!” she cheered.

“You up to it, Kiki Flores?” Monroe asked, his light shining on her.

“Yes,” Kiki said, blinking skittishly and casting a quick glimpse toward the pit.

“Come on Kiki!” Pia yelled over to her. “It’s easy!”

Kiki dropped the noose over her torso and under her arms. She rearranged her headlamp, and then pulled her knit cap down over her ears. She stepped over to the ladder, and glanced back at Monroe.

“I’ve got you,” Monroe said, holding the rope taut.

“And I’ve got Monroe,” I said, tightening my grip around the Caveman’s waist, my duct-taped sneakers pressed against the rock floor.

Kiki walked to the edge of the pit and shone her headlamp downward. She dropped to her knees, inhaled a big breath of air, and then eased out onto the ladder—the limbs stretched beneath her with a soft groan. Pausing, Kiki gulped air again and edged forward, the ladder curving under her.

“If this thing breaks, Monroe,” Kiki warned, “I’m going be
very
upset.”

“Quit talking,” I said. “Keep going.” It was all I could do to watch. The log was bowing more under Kiki’s weight than it had beneath Pia.

But the ladder held, and in a few seconds Kiki was across. Pia greeted her with a big hug.

The rope came back and it was my turn. I slipped the noose over my head and under my arms, and pulled it tight, my heart banging in my chest, my body buzzing with fear. But again—like the night before when I had been frightened by the noise in the darkness—I liked the sense of the fear. It somehow inspired me. It must have been the adrenalin.

“You’re sure the ladder will hold me?” I asked Monroe.

“It held Kiki, didn’t it?” he said, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’m heavier than Kiki.”

“What’s your point?”

“Don’t be making jokes,” I snapped. “This is serious.”

“Indeed, it is.”

I stepped to the edge of the pit, dropped to all fours, and crawled onto the ladder bridge.

I hadn’t advanced very far when Monroe asked, “Do you trust me, Pablo?”

“Heck of a time to be asking,” I said.

“Do you?” Monroe asked, holding the rope taut, releasing it inch by inch as I advanced. “No fairy tales—the truth.”

It wasn’t until that moment that I understood why I hadn’t trusted Monroe. It
was
because of his looks. I had mistrusted Monroe for the wrong reason.

“Well?” Monroe asked. I could hear the impatience in his voice.

“Yes, Monroe, I trust you.” I paused and turned my head just enough to make eye contact. I could tell from the look on his face that he believed me.

“About time, Pablo.”

“I had to work out a few things in my head,” I said. “But, yes, I trust you, Monroe.”

I continued to advance across the rotting log bridge, which was cold, wet, and slippery. I snatched a glimpse of the black nothingness beneath me.

“Don’t look down, Pablo,” Kiki advised.

“Just take it slow,” Pia said. She was chewing on the knuckle of her thumb.

“Pia, Kiki,” I said in a low voice. “Please don’t talk to me now. I’m sort of busy.”

“Steady as she goes,” Monroe cautioned.

I was nearly to the other side when the bowing ladder uttered a muffled
crack!

“Crap!” I muttered, my heart banging in my ears. I stopped.

“Keep going!” Monroe barked.

“Couple of feet,” Kiki said, extending her hand.

“Oh, Pablo, please, please don’t fall,” Pia said in a tiny voice.

I began crawling again, inching closer to the end of the old ladder.

Kiki’s outstretched hand was nearly within my grasp when the ladder uttered a second sickening
crack!

“Hurry!” Kiki encouraged.

The elastic ladder moaned one last time and buckled in the middle at the very moment Kiki grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety. As the log bridge fell away into the black hole, Pia rushed over to where I was parked on all fours, hurried puffs of vapor spurting from my mouth. Her eyes swimming in tears, Pia fell to her knees and threw her arms around my neck.

No one spoke.

The seconds ticked by slowly. Finally, the morbid splash came to us from below.

Kiki released a big breath.

I got to my feet, wobbling a little. I stepped out of the rope and shone my light on Monroe. “Now what?” I asked, my knees feeling weak from my near-fall. I didn’t like the sound of my own voice—it sounded breakable—and I cleared my throat. In a stronger voice I said, “Okay, what’s the plan, Monroe?”

“Like I said, I jump.”

“What if you don’t … you know … make it?” Kiki asked, gesturing with her hands. “Then what?”

“I die. Can’t think of a better place.”

“Please don’t die, Mr. Huff!” Pia pleaded, stepping to the rim of the dark hole, her light shining on Monroe. I took Pia by the arm and pulled her from the edge.

“Okay, Pia. Just for you I won’t die.”

I thought I detected a sliver of uncertainty in Monroe’s voice. It was, after all, a long jump, and the cave floor—like everything else in the cave—was slick.

“Should we be tethered to you?” I asked. “In case you … don’t make it?” The pretzel knot was tightening in my stomach again.

“No, I’m too heavy,” Monroe said. “If I fall, I’ll pull everyone down with me.”

“Not good,” Kiki said with a big swallow, shooting me a loaded glance.

One by one, Monroe tossed the five backpacks across the gorge, including two of his own. They rolled like noisy tumbleweeds along the tunnel floor.

“I’ll need everyone’s help to make this jump,” Monroe said. “Pablo, I want you to shine your headlamp on
my
side of the pit. I need to see where to begin my jump.”

I did as Monroe instructed, a scary thought taking shape in my head.
What will happen to us if Monroe doesn’t make it?

Monroe said, “Kiki, I want you and Pia to light the floor on
your
side of the pit. I’ll need to see where I’m landing.”

They obeyed.

“Isn’t there any other way?” I asked.

“Don’t worry,” Monroe said, his voice sounding more relaxed. “I was on the track team in high school.”

“Long jump?” I asked.

“Shot-put.”

“Very funny, Monroe,” Kiki growled.

Monroe knelt at the edge of the pit and ran his hand across the floor.

“Is it slick?” I asked.

“Not bad. I can get some traction.” He stood up and swiped the soles of his hiking boots on the floor. “Yeah … some traction.”

“Before you jump, Monroe,” I said, “tell me something.”

Monroe looked up, surprised. “And what might that be?”

“How did you get through that tunnel this morning? It was tight. It was all I could do to make it.”

Monroe laughed outright. “You want to know that
now
?”

“Yeah
.
”

“I forced all the air out of my lungs—totally. It reduced my chest by four inches. It’s a trick all spelunkers know.”

I fell silent. I’d have to try that sometime. No, on second thought I never wanted to try that.

“Everyone know their assignments?” Monroe asked.

We said that we did, and Monroe backed away from the pit and into the darkness. First, a few long seconds of silence, and then Monroe’s shout, “Ready or not, here I come!”

A nervous flutter rippling through my stomach, I drew a big breath. Pia gasped, and Kiki reached out for Pia’s hand and held on tight. Our headlamps lighting both sides of the pit, fear gripping us, we stood motionless. I said a silent prayer that I wouldn’t see Monroe fall to his death.

“Pablo ….” Kiki said in a hushed voice.

“He’ll make it,” I whispered. “I know he will.”

“I can … I can feel my heart ….” Pia stammered.

We couldn’t see Monroe—he had retreated deep into the shadows and his headlamp was faint—but we could hear him sprinting toward the dark pit, the rap of his boots slapping the tunnel floor, slowly at first, and then faster and faster.

The beam from his headlamp bouncing up and down, Monroe burst into the light with a mighty grunt. A great silence fell over the cave as he soared through the air, legs tucked, arms extended above his head. Monroe made a wide arc above the black hole, and it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. Monroe straightened his legs at the last second and landed safely on his feet.

We cheered.

“You made it by a mile, Mr. Huff!” Pia cried out.

Exhaling nervously, Monroe looked at me and widened his eyes, as if to say, “
I don’t want to do that ever again.”

We entered the chamber where the rocky formation called the Death Cake stood. We were admiring the cave architecture when Monroe tilted his head.

“What was that?” he said, his eyes pinched together in concentration as he looked down both ends of the tunnel.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Kiki said. She shot me a “Now what?” look.

Monroe put a finger to his lips. “Shhh! Listen!”

A faint rumble crept into the chamber.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I hear it. Sounds like … like gunfire.”

Monroe pushed a breath through his nose. “It
is
gunfire. Probably the Blood brothers.”

“The Blood brothers?” I asked in a loud voice. “How’d they find this cave?” The Blood brothers were like a bad cut that wouldn’t heal.

“They must have stumbled onto our canoes,” Monroe said. “Our trail up the mountain would have been easy to track, and a blind man could follow our footprints in this cave.” His headlamp reflected the many smudged footprints on the moist cave floor.

“Why were they shooting?” Kiki asked.

“They might have run into Mr. Bear,” Monroe said. “Let’s ask them next time we see them.”

“That’s not
even
funny, Monroe,” Kiki fired back.

“The Blood brothers .…” I sneered. I felt like cussing.

We camped on a wide, dry ledge near the rocky formation that had been named the Death Cake by whoever drew the one-dollar treasure map. We ate, and then called it a day. Sleep came easy.

I had a terrible nightmare. Pia had fallen into the deep pit, and I’d jumped in after her. Although Pia was only a few feet away, I couldn’t quite reach her, and we continued to fall into the blackness.

Sore and stiff, I awoke with a jolt and rolled over onto my back to get some relief. But there was nothing comfortable about sleeping on a bed of limestone. I sat up, dug my flashlight out of my backpack and clicked it on. I pointed the light at my sister and cousin. They were fast asleep.

Monroe had spread out his space blanket at the end of the ledge, and I swung the beam of light in that direction. The silvery cover was empty. I searched the chamber with my flashlight. I spotted Monroe standing on the far side of the cavern near the pit.

I got up and went over to Monroe.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Thought I smelled something,” Monroe said.

“An animal?”

“Yeah, the two-legged kind.”

At six o’clock the next morning we ate a hasty breakfast of nuts and high-energy bars, and then headed down the tunnel leading away from the Death Cake toward the next stop on the map—Lake With Dam
.

Monroe in the lead, we followed the mapmaker’s drawing, which directed us along a winding corridor from one small chamber to the next. Folds of colorful orange and gray flowstone—rock formations resembling melting wax that had been made from thousands of years of dripping water—covered the walls in one of the larger chambers. Monroe said the colors in the flowstone were the leftovers of the mineral waters that had made them. Zinc. Maybe some lead.

All around us were cream-colored columns of stone, which connected chamber ceiling to chamber floor. Pia asked Monroe how the columns were formed. He said they were stalactites and stalagmites coming together.