Half Way Home (18 page)

“Same here,” Kelvin said. “I don’t feel much safer up here. I need dirt under my feet.”

Most of the rest of the group agreed, which left the question of how we mitigate the dangers of the descent.

“I liked the idea of forming a long train of vinnies,” Tarsi said. “That way we have a lot of warning. Besides, with the rainfall there’s hundreds of them up here we could gather.”

A drop of water smacked me on the top of my head; I could feel it worming through my hair and across my scalp. I looked up at the source of the drip, the dim light of the stormy morning finally filtering through the massive leaves. The drips had been tormenting me all night, filling my head with schemes, ways of keeping the moisture out completely. I couldn’t blame the vinnies for crawling up the sides of the tunnel, trying to stay out of the wetness—

“I’ve got an idea,” I said.

I scanned the group around me, their faces barely discernable and tinged with green. “Probably a stupid idea,” I admitted.

Jorge snorted, obviously expecting no less.

“Let’s hear it,” said Kelvin.

The plan grew and altered as I spoke it. It began as a way to keep the vinnies out of the tunnel, but then it transformed into something crazy: a plan I began to doubt even as it formed. Everyone else just got excited and egged me on, which I suppose is how bad things tend to happen.

The allure of the idea was that we would be in the tunnel for as little time as possible, minimizing the chances of encountering another stampede-causing earthquake. A handful of us volunteered for the wet work, crawling out into the cold and working in the rain as it soaked us to the bone. Karl used one of the machetes to hack through the thick stems of the largest variety of leaves. The rest of us gathered them and passed them down into the tunnel. There, Kelvin and Leila carpeted the brambles with them, overlapping each leaf with the next as they created a nearly watertight flooring.

Meanwhile, using the other machete, Samson worked on the rise of the plumber’s trap, cutting it out so the water could pass into the tunnel. As he chopped the brambles up, other workers passed the removed pieces along and tossed them through the gear holes further down. Not only did this help remove the hump in the tunnel, the tossed limbs and hacked brambles would make for easy firewood if we could circle around the base of the tree and find them on the ground.

It took almost an hour to complete the work; by then, the rest of the group had rainwater funneling toward the large hole from the depression up top. The low valleys we had avoided while walking came into great use, collecting the rain and forcing it toward our tunnel. Using bits of sticks, we propped up the edges of some leaves to guide even more rain into the tunnel.

Once we were done, we gathered up the large leaves we had set aside and joined the others down past the flattened plumber’s trap. The girls had already carpeted the area Karl had cut out and a steady stream of water flowed through.

Those of us that had worked up top wrung out our clothes while the rest worked to secure our supplies. We distributed one big leaf per couple, with Kelvin agreeing to ride alone with a large tarp full of the majority of our gear.

As we worked, a train of vinnies marched past, all of them as high up the tunnel wall as their bristles could carry them. They were avoiding the rushing stream, just as I’d hoped.

Tarsi and I plopped down on the first leaf, the honor (and risk) of going first given to the person with the dumb idea. Below us, the floor of the tunnel gurgled with flowing water. I sat in front, straddling the stem of the leaf, both my hands on its forward edge and curling it back. Tarsi sat behind me, and we scooted forward, lurching the leaf inch by inch, while Kelvin and Samson shoved from behind.

At first, it felt like the entire endeavor would be a bust. I feared all of us had soaked ourselves to the core and worn ourselves out for nothing. Behind us, someone groaned as we struggled to get the contraption moving, but despite the waxiness of the leaf and the well-worn wood below, there seemed to be too much friction to get going.

Then—imperceptibly at first but growing—our scooting picked up speed. I could almost feel the bond between the leaf and wood slipping as the water eased us along. Behind me, Tarsi quit pushing and wrapped her arms around my waist. I leaned back and yelled for Kelvin and Samson to stop.

We were off. Moving at a walking pace for a few moments, and then faster. And faster.

“Whoa,” Tarsi said, her grip around my chest making it difficult to breathe. I leaned back against her and concentrated on keeping the forward edge of the leaf up. Beside us, the openings in the tunnel flicked past. The rising curve of the round tube kept me from worrying about sliding out, and the tree was so large in diameter, it felt like we were going down a nearly straight chute rather than a tight spiral. The speed, however, quickly became a real concern. Within moments we were moving along faster than a tractor could go. I tried to keep my bearings with quick glances out the holes, but they flickered past so quickly it was like seeing the world through rapid blinks.

“How’re we gonna stop?” Tarsi yelled in my ear.

There were, admittedly, a few steps in my plan I hadn’t fully mapped out.

I considered sticking my foot out against the core side of the tree, then thought about picking splinters out of my sole for the next week. Lowering the front edge of the leaf, I experimented instead with adjusting the shape of the curve, but couldn’t tell that it had any effect. Continuing to unfurl it, I let part of the edge collapse completely, digging into the thin film of water. My reward was a furious spray of rainwater spitting right up in my face. Tarsi ducked behind me for cover, squealing, but our leaf definitely slowed. I played with it some more, then felt something bump into us from behind, nearly causing me to drop the edge of the leaf.

Tarsi squealed and I heard someone grunt and cuss behind us.

“Watch out!”

I turned around and saw Karl and Leila right on our tail. Both had expressions of half fear, half exhilaration on their faces. Tarsi and Leila shouted back and forth, teasing one another.

“Stop goofing off and tell Karl to lower the front into the water,” I hollered back to Tarsi. “Have him slow down and tell the next person.”

She adjusted her grip on my waist and turned to explain it to the others. I kept the edge high and let go of the leaf with one hand to wipe the spray off my face and out of my eyes. We quickly picked up speed again, and I could hear Leila’s yelps of delight recede as Karl slowed his leaf down.

“This is fun!” Tarsi screamed, hugging my chest with affection.

I laughed and tried to gauge our height off the ground to determine what our rate of descent was. Already, in my brief glimpses through the side of the tunnel, I could tell the canopy was receding overhead. I tried to get a read on the distance to the bottom. The best I could tell, we were already a good ways down. Maybe a tenth or so. A train of vinnies whizzed past on the coreward side of the tree and Tarsi and I leaned away as their bristles brushed against us.

“I wanna do this again!” she screamed in my ear.

I thought about the grueling climb up and shook my head. Then I recalled how nice the ride had been on the vinnie once I got over my objections and fears. I started to think that we could get up and down from the canopy without much difficulty—then I remembered the earthquake and the stampede. That returned me to my original doubts and I promised myself I would never leave the ground again if I could just get back there safely.

What took almost a full day going up ended up taking less than two hours on the leaf. I watched the ground outside draw closer and lowered the forward edge, kicking up more spray and slowing us down. Tarsi groaned in my ear with disappointment.

Just before the end of the chute, we reached the edge of a large pool of water where the diverted rain had built up in the tunnel’s dead-end.

We jumped off our leaf and leapt out of the nearest hole, splashing down on the soaked moss. Karl and Mindy slid to a stop right as we got out of the way, laughing and wiping the spray off their faces. We helped them over the lip and stepped out into the dimly lit clearing. Two more riders arrived going much too fast; they slammed into the pool of water and sent spray out several gaps in the bark. Samson and Leila fell out the bottom of the tunnel, over a lip of cascading water, gasping for air and giggling uncontrollably.

Moving out into the rain, I opened the flap on my little tarp sack and peeked inside to make sure its contents had remained dry. Tarsi wrung water out of the bottom of her shirt, her hair plastered across her forehead.

I looked off in the direction of the mountains, but I couldn’t see the mine from our lower elevation. What I
could
see was that we were in for a miserable camp, or a grueling, wet hike.

“What’re we gonna do now?” I asked Tarsi.

She shrugged, then looked back toward the tree. “What’s taking the others so long?” she asked.

“Sould we build a shelter?” Karl took a leaf from Leila, who went back to the tunnel to fish out another. “Or should we try and get a fire going?”

“At least we’re good on water,” Mindy said, indicating the miniature waterfalls spilling out of the last few gaps in the bark. The moss all around the base of the tree had turned into a small pond as it gathered the overflow of water.

“Uh, about the water,” Samson said. “I wouldn’t drink it.”

“Why not?” Leila asked, laying another leaf on the pile.

“It’s, uh, not clean,” he said quietly.

“What did you do?” Tarsi asked.

“I think I peed my pants a little . . .”

“You what?”

“When we passed that first vinnie,” he mumbled, trying to defend himself. “Anyway, it wasn’t much.”

“That’s so gross.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was sitting right
behind
you,” Leila complained.

“I said I was sorry.”

Tarsi and I bent down to work with the leaves as we laughed at the exchange.

“Good thing we filled our water up top,” she said to me. We each grabbed the sides of a leaf and tried to shape it into an upside down ‘v’, giving us a dry spot to stash our things. Unfortunately, the edges of the leaf were too flimsy and wet to stay put.

“I’ve got an idea,” Tarsi said, running over and grabbing Karl’s machete. She came back and sawed through the thick stem that ran the length of the leaf, breaking it but leaving the waxy surface intact. She bent the leaf right at the cut, sticking the end of the stem into the moss on one side and burying the tip of the leaf on the other. The stiffness of the stem kept both sides up, forming a tent of sorts, almost big enough for someone to ball themselves up under.

“Not bad,” I told her, admiring the simplicity of it.

“It’s better than not bad,” she said, her hands on her hips, rain dripping off loose clumps of hair. I laughed and hugged her, enjoying the feeling of both of us being soaked and not really caring.

“Where are the others?” Leila asked.

“Good question,” Karl said. He drifted toward the tree as if somehow getting closer to the conundrum would help solve it. “Jorge and Vincent were right behind us,” he said. “And Kelvin was supposed to bring up the rear.”

Hearing the worry in Karl’s voice and thinking about Kelvin induced a slight sense of panic in me. I left our makeshift tent and hurried to the tree, entering the fourth opening from the bottom. The lip there was low enough that I could lean into the tunnel, but not so low that the pool of water could reach up to it and leak out over the side. I stuck my head in and peered up the tunnel, which was dappled with light from the regularly spaced openings. Still, it was impossible to see beyond the first fifty feet or so.

I thought I could hear something. Over the patter of rain and the sound of water sliding against itself, a hissing noise seemed to echo throughout the tube—a sound like wet breath being forced between tongue and teeth. Someone was sliding our way.

“Here they come!” I yelled back to the others. Just as I turned around, something arrived in a flash and going at full speed. I barely saw the form before it whizzed by amid a mist of spray, and splashed into the pool beyond. I did see enough to know there weren’t people on the leaf—the shape was much too big for that.

“What the hell?” Karl asked, looking into one of the gaps lower down than mine. I left my spot and joined him.

Floating in the pool of water and spanning all of the last two gaps was one of the smaller vinnies. Dead. The front edge of a leaf had been bent back over its head and tied there by a length of rope.

“Those bastards stopped and went hunting,” Karl said.

Leila poked her head in between us, seeing what the fuss was about. “Gross,” she said, pulling away.

Over the sloshing water at our feet, I heard the hiss of more arrivals. I peered up the tunnel and saw a shape heading our way, but this time accompanied by the chatter and laughter of human passengers.

Jorge, Vincent, and Kelvin arrived on a single leaf, Jorge slowing them with skill before they got to the edge of the pool. They hopped out of the tunnel through the neighboring gap and I ran around to greet Kelvin and give him a soggy embrace.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, slapping me on the back.

“No problem,” I said. “I might be cold and starving enough to actually try some of the meat.
If
we can get a fire going, that is.”

Tarsi ran up and took my place in Kelvin’s arms, the two of them squeezing each other tightly. Jorge walked by and slapped me on the shoulder. He smiled slightly at me before moving on, the most affection I’d seen from him since our escape. I chalked it up to post-descent euphoria and tried not to count on it lasting.

Kelvin moved to help the others wrestle the massive creature through one of the holes in the tunnel. They grunted and cursed the soggy weight of the thing.

“Sorry about ruining our water supply,” Kelvin said during a pause in their struggles.

Mindy laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Samson tainted it before you guys did.” She related his embarrassing incident, which put an end to all work as everyone doubled over in fits of laughter.