Ending ELE (ELE Series) (5 page)

For a moment, I watch in horror as Tony loses his footing
up ahead. I hold my breath, unable to scream as I watch my father grip his arm and pull him back up. My heart pounds in my chest and I hold onto Sebastian’s hand a little more tightly. I take a few deep breaths to reassure myself that Tony’s okay.

It takes us a good half hour to make our way
down to the mouth of the cave. When we all reach solid ground, we huddle around each other for warmth. Tony digs in the snow and finds a large rock. He throws it into the cave to make sure it’s unoccupied. We hear it ricochet off the cave walls. A few grey bats fly out for a moment but fly right back in when the snow hits their wings.

I shiver, but not because of the cold.
The only thing I can think about is the vampire-like bats I saw on my tablet when I was younger. I remember having nightmares for weeks after I read about those. Tony motions for us all to enter but remains cautious. The mouth of the cave is only large enough for one person at a time. It’s amazing that Ms. Wallobee was even able to see it. It’s almost completely covered by large boulders.

When it
’s my turn to go into the cave, I have to take a deep breath and mentally put my big-girl panties on. It’s pitch black and there’s no telling how many bats and other animals we’re sharing this cave with. Claire, who’s in front of me, stops. We wait a few seconds, hear the click of a flashlight, and, at once, the cave is illuminated. The light bounces off the cave walls, revealing the slick, rocky surface. The light hits the ceiling for only a moment and I catch a glimpse of a few bats giving their wings a territorial flap. Sebastian’s grip tightens on my hand and I try to give him a comforting squeeze. Tony spends a few more minutes checking out the area. It seems the cave is only about twenty-feet deep and about fifteen feet in height. The ceiling was far too low for my comfort zone, especially with the bats involved.

I look over at
Claire, who seems excited to see the bats. She stares up at them in wonder. “Bats don’t usually pick caves like this to hibernate in. Usually, they pick between only a few large caves in this part of the US to spend the winter. Those caves have a certain type of airflow that helps stabilize the cave and protect them against a freeze. If I were to guess, since there are less than twenty bats here, I would say that these poor guys tried to outfly the quick change of temperature.” She looks back down and her eyes meet mine. Her face turns sad. “I doubt all these little guys will survive this freeze. They don’t fare well at all when the temperature drops below thirty-five.”

In that
moment, the fear I had over spending the night with the bats is replaced with empathy for their situation. Like us, their lives and their routines were thrown off-kilter. Their worlds flipped on their axis. Much like us survivors, they are just trying to live another day in this crazy life, never knowing if today will be their last. My heart hurts for them. My heart hurts for everyone who has had to endure the turbulence of these times, including us.

As if sensing my forlorn emotions,
Tony takes my hand and leads me further into the cave. The newfound silence engulfs my ears as the heavy snow and waterfall is muffled behind us. Setting our belongings down in a heap, we collapse in exhaustion. We count our blessings when Tony finds a few pieces of firewood that must have been left by a camper, who knows how long ago. He starts a fire nearer to the mouth of the cave and we all scoot closer to warm our hands and feet.

The heat is exquisite and I move closer to take as much of it as I
can, until my feet tingle from the warmth of the fire, making me uncomfortable. I heal them in a few minutes and continue to revel in the warmth.

The fire
crackles, filling the cave with an eerie whisper. Shadows dance across the walls from the small movements we make. Every now and then, you can hear a bat flap its wings as it flies from one place to another. There’s a constant dripping sound in the far corner.

My dad pulls out a couple cans of…
and that’s when I realize there are no labels on them. I scrunch my eyebrows. “What is it?” I ask, breaking the deafening silence.

A
small, mischievous smile splays on Tony’s lips and he shrugs his shoulders. He gets a playful gleam in his eye and it’s all I can do to keep from laughing.

“
What’s so funny?” I question him once more, still studying the cans.

He smiles at me and answers.
“Well, living out in the middle of nowhere, we sort of ran out of things to do when I was younger. So, one day I thought it would be fun to remove all the labels off the cans.” I scoff.

“
But, why would you do that?” I question, interrupting him. “Then you don’t know what you’re going to eat.”

His smile gets wider.
“Exactly!” he says to me.

I furrow my brow further but keep the playfulness on my lips.

“
So, my parents and I would play dinner roulette. In other words, you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”

I shake my head and laugh.
“Of course you did.”

So, against my better
judgment, and because I have absolutely no choice, I grab a random can, hoping it’s not something like tuna fish.

Sebastian
, on the other hand, looks at the cans like Christmas has come early. His little fingers hover over each one, wiggling like he’s going to take the can before he moves onto the next one, and the next. Finally, he picks one up and giggles with glee. I guess I can see where a kid might think this is fun. Especially if they’re adventurous eaters like Sebastian is.

With his precious can in tow, Sabby comes and sits down next to me.
“I wonder what I get!” he exclaims with excitement. Then a thought comes raining down on his parade and he looks at me worriedly. “I hope it not peas!”

I laugh.
“Yeah, hopefully there are no alien eggs for you.”

“
How about this champ, if you get peas, I’ll trade you,” Tony tells my little brother.

Sabby
’s face lights up and he says, “Deal!”

“
You just made a friend for life,” my dad says to Tony. They share a smile and an understanding look that warms me. I didn’t realize how important it was to me that my dad approves of Tony. I notice in that small exchange that he does.

Thankfully, with all the rush that went on earlier,
Tony remembered to pack a can opener. We take turns passing it around, each peering into our own mystery meal with guarded anticipation.

“
Score!” Alec says when he unveils his pork and beans. Marya, Ms. Wallobee, and Claire all end up with some kind of stew. Sebastian gets chicken noodle soup and he’s more than thrilled.

Connor jiggles the can opener and pops his open.
He places the open container next to the fire to get a better look and his face goes white. “Please tell me you’re kidding…” he says, lost in thought.

“
Hey,” I intervene. “How bad could it possibly be?”

Connor looks at me like I
’m growing a second head. “Pickled Beets?” he questions, smelling the contents.

Well, he has a good point.
I’m not sure why they make those either. I shrug my shoulders with a laugh and watch as Connor struggles to eat his dinner. The faces he makes are priceless and when there’s no entertainment to be had, well, Connor’s all we got.

Claire laughs at her boyfriend. She gives him a peck on the cheek and then happily shares her stew with the man she loves.

Lillie tells him, “I will share too, Co-co.” She holds up a spoonful of Spaghetti-Os for her brother to take a bite. He offers a bite of his in return. Lillie scrunches up her freckled, little nose and shakes her head.

“
Yeah, Co-Co. Nobody wants your beets,” Alec jabs at him.

Connor turns and glares. He points his spoon filled with the nasty red vegetables at him.
“Only Lillie gets to call me that.”

Alec throws his hands in the air in mock surrender and
Lillie giggles at the two of them.

I finally get passed the royal can opener and discover some kind of hot dog thing
s, only much smaller. I heat them up over the fire and pop one in my mouth. “Eh, not the worst I’ve eaten,” I say.

My dad winds up with
a simple can of green beans and Tony gets salmon.

“
How did you end up with the prized can of Salmon?” I ask in mock disdain.

A snarky smile inches its way up his lips.
He turns to me and whispers in my ear, “Practice makes perfect. Don’t you think I’ve learned a thing or two about how my favorite cans look?” His breath on my ear tickles.

“
Cheater,” I say, playfully punching his shoulder. He steals a kiss on my cheek and then gives me a bite.

Lillie, Sebastian, and Ms.
Wallobee, I mean Carrie, sit together near the corner of the cave. They’re all three lying on their backs as Carrie makes shadow puppets with her hands on the cave wall. I watch as both kids’ eyes get heavy and they settle in for the night.

Everyone else is paired off: Connor and Claire, Alec and Marya, Tony and me…
then there’s my dad. The ol’ third wheel. I feel bad as I watch him try to cope by himself, all alone. I pat Tony’s leg with my hand and get up to go sit with my dad.

“
How’s it going, old man?” I tease.

He gives me a smile but I can see the effort behind it.
He sighs and I sit next to him, placing my head on his shoulder. His arms instinctively wrap around me in a comforting hug.

“
I miss her too…” I tell him.

His scratchy stubble rubs against my head as he nods in affirmation.
“You remind me so much of her,” he says simply. “It lets me miss her just a little bit less when you’re around.”

Hearing him say this makes me smile.
I loosen from his embrace and look up at my dad. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze.

Tony gets up and comes
to joins us. “Hi, Mr. Mosby,” he says to my dad.

“
Tony, I think by now we’re on a first name basis. Please, call me Henry.” Tony nods his head and sits down next to us. “Yes, sir.”

I stifle a laugh
at Tony being proper. The Tony I’ve come to know is the sarcastic, playful, badgering, yet loving Tony. It sounds funny when he talks that way. “Salmon?” He offers the can to my dad.

My dad raises one eyebrow.
“How did you score salmon? All I got was green beans.” He takes his fork and jabs it into Tony’s can.

“
Practice makes perfect,” Tony answers.

“
Cheater.” My dad copies my response, which gains a chuckle from Tony. My dad places the small offering in his mouth, savoring the taste. “Thanks,” he says after he finishes chewing.

Tony nods his head and then finishes off the last of the salmon.

After we finish eating, we lean back against the rock structures behind us.

“
Remember the time Mom tried to cook Thanksgiving dinner?” I say out loud.

Dad lets out a deep
, belly-jiggling laugh, almost choking on his food. “Oh yes, that was an… interesting Thanksgiving! We ended up ordering in pizza that night. That is, after we got all the smoke out and sent the fire department home.”

Tony smiles with us.
“So, I’m guessing Alice wasn’t the best cook?” he asks.

My dad and I nod enthusiastically.
“That’s an understatement,” I tell him. Our smiles return to remembrance as we all recall my mom.

“
Remember that time she lost the ornament boxes for the Christmas tree?” My dad asks.

I
giggle, remembering that year. “Oh yes!” I say. “The yearlong Christmas, couldn’t ever forget that!” Tony gives a chuckle. I tell him the story. “We had to leave our Christmas tree up all year because my mom wouldn’t let us put it away without those boxes. She was scared the ornaments would break if we took it down without them. I remember having people over a few times that summer. We tried to explain it, but they never quite understood.”

My
dad interjects, “And remember how it sat in the front window and it was connected to the front room light? Every time we turned the light on, the Christmas tree would light up too. Our neighbors would just shake their heads at us every time they walked by.”

“
Oh, I got one,” I say. “Remember that time she put liquid dish soap in the dishwasher? She filled the entire soap container with it.” I laugh, a good, hearty laugh.

“
Yeah,” my dad continues, “then we went out and ran our errands. When we returned, even before we got inside, there were bubbles coming out the front door.”

Tony begins laughing with us too.
My dad’s laughing so hard, he can hardly speak. “The look on the faces of the water restoration people was priceless! Alice kept repeating over and over again to them that the label said
dish
soap. They just looked at her like she’d lost her mind.”