Fool's Gold (21 page)

Grabbing each other, they hugged and pounded, laughing and screaming hysterically. They were still clutched together like some kind of berserk six-legged animal as they slipped and staggered and shouted all the way back up the tunnel.

“Look! A light!” Rudy yelled when they rounded a corner and got their first glimpse of the narrow swath of light at the entrance. He fell to his knees and crawled forward, doing an imitation of a thirst-crazed traveler approaching an oasis in the desert. And Barney and Tyler imitated him, staggering toward the opening yelling, “A light. A light.” It wasn't until they had all three crawled out into the hot sunlight that something changed, and the laughter disappeared.

As soon as he was out of the mine Barney sank down in front of the boarding. He took off his helmet and put it at his feet and then he leaned forward with his dirt-smeared face against his knees. He was wet and muddy and shivering so hard his shoulders jerked back and forth. His breath came in ragged gasps. Rudy sat down on one side of him and Tyler on the other. It was quite a while before Barney raised his head.

“I kept waiting for my flashlight to go out,” he said. “I thought I was going to die there. In the dark. I was going to lie down in that dirty water—in the dark—and die.”

Rudy didn't say anything and neither did Tyler. There didn't seem to be anything to say. It wasn't until quite a while later that Barney spoke again. This time it was just to Rudy. “How'd you do it?” he asked.

“How did I do what?”

“Go down there. You know. I thought you said you couldn't do it.”

“Yeah. That's what I thought. I guess I was wrong.”

Barney grinned back weakly. “Yeah. I guess you were.” He looked at Rudy—a long steady look before he ducked his head and said, “I guess I've been wrong about some stuff too. A lot of stuff.”

“Wrong about what?” Ty asked.

But Barney only stood up and picked up his helmet. He took hold of the flashlight and ripped it loose and then he turned around and threw the helmet as far as he could back into the mine. Then he did the same with Tyler's. And Tyler didn't try to stop him.

“I'm coming back tomorrow to nail those boards back up,” he said. “But right now I'm going home.” Then he got on his bicycle and rode off.

W
HEN RUDY GOT
home from Pritchard's Hole, covered with dried mud and absolutely exhausted, he barely had time to get cleaned up before Moira and Margot came back from the baby-sitter, and Natasha got home from work. He made an effort to act normal, but it wasn't easy. A strange reaction seemed to have set in and he was feeling a little weird. For one thing it was almost impossible for him to keep his mind on what was going on around him, because scenes from the gold mine kept rerunning on what seemed to be a giant screen located somewhere inside his head.

He managed to say he was okay when Natasha asked him what was the matter, and when Margot mentioned being sent back to Eleanora's he explained by saying he had had to help Barney with something. Of course, Moira wanted to know what he and Barney had been doing, but he just said it had been a lot of work and he was tired and he'd tell them about it later if they really wanted to know. So Moira said okay and forgot about it. However, it seemed to him that Natasha kept on watching him whenever she thought he wasn't looking.

As soon as Natasha had finished putting the girls to bed, she came back into the kitchen and said, “I'm going to call Murph now. I think the three of us ought to talk—you know, about what happened.”

“About what happened?” Rudy asked, startled, because for a split second he found himself wondering how Natasha knew about Pritchard's Hole, and if he'd said something that gave it away. He hoped he hadn't. Not until he'd told Barney he was going to, anyway, and got his okay.

But of course that wasn't it. What Natasha wanted to talk about wasn't what happened that day at Pritchard's Hole. What she was planning to discuss was something that happened nine years ago—in a tunnel dug into the tailings at the Jefferson Mine. “Oh, that,” Rudy said, grinning. “I'd almost forgotten about all that.”

But Natasha was already on the phone. “Murph,” she said, “can you come over now? Yes, anytime. Okay. And for cheesecake and coffee too.”

A few minutes later Murph knocked, stuck his head in the back door, and said, “What's this I hear about cheesecake?”

Natasha had hardly poured the coffee before she began about the cave-in. “It's been on my mind all day,” she said. “I almost drove Frank crazy—not hearing anything he said to me until he'd repeated it half a dozen times.”

“Serves the old slave driver right,” Murph said.

Natasha gave Murph a quick smile, then said, “No, seriously, Murph, I just can't stop thinking about what happened and what might have happened and how much I was to blame. And how much I am to blame for not even realizing that Rudy had a problem all these years. Even that time when I came home and he'd been locked in the closet I just put it down to a temper tantrum. But I should have known better. Rudy never has out-of-control temper tantrums. Margot, yes, but not Rudy.”

“Now, wait a minute, Natasha,” Murph said. “You're being way too hard on yourself. Millions of mothers who've had a much easier time of it than you do a poorer job with their kids. It's always seemed to me that you've done real well with Rudy, considering. Right, Rudy?”

“What?” Rudy said, struggling to deal with what Murph was saying and at the same time a close-up of Barney's frantic face staring up out of the darkness. “What? Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Best mother in Pyramid Hill. Absolutely.”

“And as far as the claustrophobia goes, it seems to me that it doesn't have to be a big handicap in Rudy's life. It shouldn't be too hard for him to simply avoid situations that might trigger a panic episode. And I wouldn't be surprised if the whole problem gradually lessens now that it's all out in the open and can be talked about. Just talking it out seems to help some people a great deal. But, of course, at some point he might want to see a psychologist about it too—”

“A psychologist,” Rudy interrupted. “We can't afford a psychologist. And besides, I don't think I need one. I think the important thing for me is getting things out in the open and talking about them, just like you said. Like, I've been talking about the cave-in thing a lot since you told me about it. To both of you, and to Barney too. I told Barney about it today, and I think I might be getting over it already. The whole claustrophobia problem, I mean.”

“Do you?” Natasha looked pleased. “Why? Did something happen today that made you think you were getting over it?”

But he couldn't get into that one. “Sure,” he said. “Today some things happened, but that's not the important part. What's important is I've been doing a lot more talking to people lately and I've been finding out all kinds of stuff that might help. And not only me. Things that might help other people too.”

“That might help what other people?” Natasha was looking puzzled.

“Well, like Barney for instance, and Ty. And the girls too. I've been talking a lot more to Moira and Margot lately and I've found out some interesting facts about—well, about why they fight so much, for one thing.”

“Is that right?” Murph said. “I'd be interested to hear about that one.”

“And so would I,” Natasha said. “God knows, so would I.”

“Sure,” Rudy said. “I might have some really important information on the subject. What I think is we ought to have some more discussions like this—I mean, every once in a while.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “But right at this particular moment I am really beat. I mean terminally wasted. So if nobody minds I'm going to go to bed. Why don't you guys go right on talking? I mean about how certain people have to knock off this ‘it's all my fault' bit. What I think is you really ought to talk some more about that, Murph.” And Rudy staggered down the hall and fell into bed.

The next morning he had just gotten Moira and Margot off to the sitter's when someone knocked on the front door. This time it was Barney himself. An almost completely back to normal Barney in his old beat-up L.A. Gear sneakers and jeans and his usual cool and easy grin, with nothing showing that would give away what had happened to him just the day before, except for some raw-looking places on the ends of his fingers and a big scab on one elbow.

“Hey, Rudy,” he said. “What's up?”

“Nothing much,” Rudy said. “I just got the two little dweebs off to Eleanora's. What's up with you?”

Barney shrugged and lowered himself onto the veranda railing. “Nothing much. I just came over because—well, because I want to say something.”

“You do?” Rudy did a “big surprise” bit. “To say something? Barney Crookshank actually wants to say something. Well, okay, shoot. Feel free. Be my guest.”

Barney frowned. “Quit kidding around for a minute, will you? What I want to say is… well, it's a lot more than just thanks. I mean, how do you thank somebody who does the hardest thing in the world for you? I mean, the thing you said you couldn't do for a billion dollars.”

“A million,” Rudy said. “I said I couldn't do it for a million.” He nodded thoughtfully. “For a billion, maybe. Anyway, like you said, I was wrong. Maybe it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be.”

Barney took off one of his L.A. Gear sneakers, shook it, and took out a big pebble. Then, rolling the pebble between his skinned-up fingers, he said, “How'd you happen to be out there anyway? I mean, after I told you to get out?”

So Rudy told him about how Ty had come for him. And how Ty tricked him into coming with him instead of calling the police, and then he went on talking a little more, and without really meaning to he got into the thing about Ty and the bats.

“Ty went into the mine looking for me and then he left and went off to get you because he was afraid of the bats?” Barney said. “He didn't say anything about any of that to me—when I called him, I mean.”

“You called Ty this morning?” Rudy asked.

“Yeah. I told him to come here.” Barney looked at his watch. “He ought to be here by now.”

Rudy didn't ask why. He wanted to, but he didn't. And it was only a few minutes later that they heard Ty's bicycle and then there he was, coming up the steps in a pair of flashy knee-length shorts and a T-shirt that had
TAKE A CHILL PILL
written across the front.

“Yo, dudes,” he said, kicking back on Natasha's lounge chair with his arms behind his head. “What's going down?” He was doing his usual cocky grin, but it did seem to wobble a little as he looked up at Barney and said, “You wanted to see me about something, Barn?”

“Yeah.” Barney was still rolling the pebble around in his raw-looking fingers. “I wanted to talk to both of you. About the mine. I just wanted to say the whole thing is off, at least as far as I'm concerned.”

“Sure, Barn,” Ty said. “You didn't have to drag me over here to tell me that. I mean, I got the picture yesterday. Loud and clear. It's okay with me. Hell, there's a lot of other things we can get into now that you're back in town.” He glanced at Rudy. “I mean, things were pretty slow around here last week. I tried to get something started with old ‘Chickie-baby' here, but a kiddie movie or two was about as good as it got.”

Barney went on looking down at the pebble, rolling it in his fingers. Then he got up slowly and went over to where Ty was stretched out on the lounge chair. He stood there staring down at Ty for so long that Rudy started feeling antsy, and from the look on Ty's face, he did too. Then Barney reached down, took hold of Ty's chin, pulled it down, held the pebble that came out of his shoe over Ty's mouth—and dropped it in. He put his fist under Ty's chin and pushed until Ty's mouth shut and his head went back—way back.

“Shut your mouth, Styler,” he said in a hard, tight voice. “Shut your mouth for keeps on that Chickie stuff or… or maybe I'll think up a new name for you. Like ‘Bats,' maybe. That's it. Yeah. I just might start calling you ‘Bats.'”

“Hey, okay,” Ty said as soon as Barney took his fist away. He sat up and took the pebble out of his mouth and stared at it for a minute. Then he looked sideways at Rudy. “Sorry about that, Rudy,” he said. “Anyway, all I meant to say was we can have a lot more fun now that old Barn is back. Right?” He glanced at Rudy again and added, “The three of us can have a lot more fun.”

“Sure we can,” Rudy said, and the funny part was he kind of meant it. He meant it because he suddenly realized that if old Styler were to disappear forever he'd miss him, at least a little. He wasn't too sure just why, but maybe it was simply that surviving Tyler Lewis had become a kind of challenge. Maybe he needed Ty—like a mountain climber needs the Matterhorn, or a snake charmer needs a six-foot cobra.

Right after that Tyler said he was going to Sacramento with his parents and he needed to get right home. He got on his twenty-one-speed bicycle and started off up Lone Pine shifting gears like crazy. Rudy and Barney watched him go and when he'd disappeared over the rise Rudy brought up something he hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask about before.

“I was wondering, Barn,” he started out. “Well, the thing is that I've been talking to Murph a lot lately, and Natasha too. Like I told you, Murph saved me when I was in the cave-in, and I've been talking to him about that. And I was just wondering if it would be all right if I told him about Pritchard's Hole—I mean now that it's all over?”

Barney had gone back to sit on the railing. “Sure,” he said. “You can tell them. I told Granddad last night.”

“You did?” Rudy was amazed. “What did he say?”

Barney grinned. “Well, you know Granddad. He didn't say much. Just that he was glad I told him, and that he hoped it had learned me a lesson. And I said I thought it had.”