Hand in hand, we plunged headlong into the dark. My friend, whose face and name have been long forgotten - her skin was soft and cool on mine in the after summer chill, but there was an incredible warmth. The cave was a tunnel and we raced through the darkness with thudding hearts, hoping we’d reach the light on the other side before the ill tempered bats that made the cave their home realized that their territory had been invaded.
We halted at the exit, fighting to catch our breath, both enthralled and terrified by the shrill cries of the angry swarm swooping outward, around us and away. The path to the river had been cut out of stone at least a hundred years ago. The ground there had been smoothed by time and coated with slippery moss. We tied the enormous shells of poinciana fruit to our feet to make make-shift skis and made the dare-devil dash down the slick slope to the river’s edge. Skinned knees, bruised chins and split lips were of no consequence to us.
We delved into the primitive lushness of the Land of Wood and Water. The deep, mysterious scent of the river filled us. The main stream was inviting and we jumped in with our pants rolled up to the knees, too impatient to take the time to strip down to our bathing suits. We spent those first moments trying to net tiny river fish with our bare hands. We avoided the deepest end, a section of the river cradled by an ancient power station. It was separated from the main stream by what must have been a man-made mound of some sort.
The hum of the power station, the eerie echoes of birds and the wind in the trees inspired ghost stories and hushed whispers about three boys who died there the summer before. Rumor had it, they had ventured into the deepest end and had gotten caught in the current of the power plant’s throbbing machinery. It had trapped them below the surface, where they drowned. We debated heatedly about whether the bodies had ever been recovered.
I lost something to the river that day. Decades later, I don’t remember what it was but I remember gasping in momentary dismay as that tiny something was swept away by the current.
- 19/12/2008 06:09 - Perhaps, A Dream
- 13/09/2008 05:50 - Strangestar
