Underworld (Dark Passage) (6 page)

My hand is bleeding from a sharp stone that is
embedded in my palm. I take a knife and ease the
stone from my flesh. I then find a scarf in my
backpack and tie it around the cut to stop the
bleeding.

There is a trail that winds its way up from the old
fence. I follow it as it winds around old trees and
dozens of acres of grass. The grass is not green as I
had thought on the other side, but dead, with a hint of
green to the dry stalks. I continue to walk and the
crunching of the grass under my feet is unwelcome as
I want to be undetected if at all possible.

Behind me, I can hear the clanking of metal and
instinctively drop to the ground. It sounds as though
someone is coming over the fence just as I had done.
The whistling wind is unnerving and in the immense
stretch of grass there is no place to hide. I know more
than I care to about the properties of this place and
fear what is out there.
Long shadows are being cast far to the left and I make
my way forward in the grass toward a line of trees in
the distance. Every crunch of grass from my feet
make me wary and I push forward as fast as I am
able. Far up in the sky is a black cloud moving at an
alarming rate. I am bent over so I am about level
with the grass and began to run. The long grass
lashes at my face and I am afraid the sound of the
grass breaking beneath my feet will draw attention to
me. My breathing is ragged from running and I am
resolved to make it to the shelter of the trees. The
spirits here don’t frighten me as I have always seen
them but the other entities are not benign. They are
from the eternal darkness and their intent is
corruption.

By the time I reach the trees the sky is darkened by
fantastic cloud shapes. As the clouds move across the
sky I notice that they are not clouds at all. They are
actually thousands of creatures with wings flapping in
unison. I have never seen anything like this and as
they draw closer they appear as shadow people with
wings.
I don’t believe these are spirits that I am seeing. They
shimmer as they approach and the entire colony is
flying over the bank of trees where I am hiding. The
stench of sulfur is in the air as they pass and I am
reminded of the demon that I saw in the caves on my
way to this world. It is as though I have been plunged
into a fabulous dream. Not exactly what I would
have chosen to dream about but it keeps the
adrenaline pumping.

When the creatures fly past I exit my hiding place and
began to make my way south. Within an hour,
silhouetted on the horizon; high above a stretch of
trees, sits a house. It is not very inviting with its
twisted turrets as I have an aversion to old buildings
but there is a light about it. The light illuminates the
darkness and gives the house an ethereal presence.

As I approach the trees that are below the house I
notice something darting behind a tree. The forest is
vast and it feels as though the sound of my rubber
soled shoes squelching on the wet leaves is echoing.
I can see a faint light from the direction where the
house is sitting and make my way toward it. Things
start to go downhill as soon as I enter the forest.
There is a slight movement about a dozen trees to the
left and I catch sight of a short figure disappearing
into the blackness out of the corner of my eye.

As I stand there looking around a chill runs through
me. My first inclination is to run but I shake the
feeling. This reaction makes no sense to me given the
nature of this world. I continue forward but have the
conscious feeling that I am being followed. Fear is
nothing new to me and I must to get control of my
nerves. A quick pep talk has me moving forward
again.

I keep glancing over my shoulder as I press forward.
I don’t see anything this time but the hair on my arms
continues to stand on end. Just as I to grow more
confident that I am safe a girl appears from nowhere.

Despite my shock I do
n’t have the impression that I
am facing my worst fear. In fact, it seems that the girl
is here to welcome me because she is smiling and
motions for me to follow her. Despite the odd glow
she emits, her appearance brings a sort of peace out of
the chaos and the world seems to take on a semblance
of order.

We continue to walk through the woods without
saying a word to one another. It seems we have been
moving for hours and long shadows have begun to
fall beyond the periphery of the girl’s glowing body.
There is nothing to do but stay close behind her and
trust that she knows where she is going.

The delicious smell of food is coming from the
blackness and I figure we must be close to the house.
We finally pass some smaller, scraggly pine trees and
walk into the edge of a clearing. The girl pauses
before she walks into the clearing.

She then starts in the direction of bank of 20 or so
pine trees. To my dismay, when we arrive at our
destination, all I can see is a grey mist. We are
standing at the edge of a formidable looking mountain
with nothing but fog around us. There is certainly
nothing that I can see. No view, no house, nothing
but the dismal grey fog. I am so disappointed that I
am speechless. Not daring to look at the girl for fear
she will see my growing anger I turn and look back
down at the forest from where we had just come.

Then the girl, to my surprise, says “
follow me”
and
she takes my hand. We step through the rock and
right into the side of the mountain. As we reach the
other side the girl closes a door that I had not seen
before now. She points to a dark, cold passageway
and the smell of food wafts toward us.

I hear the echo of feet on the stone floors of the tunnel
and a man appears holding a lantern. He is dressed in
a long tunic with dark pants. He has stringy brown
hair and a black beard and is accompanied by the
mutt that I first met outside the caves. I can’t help but
think of
Scrooge
from “A Chistmas Carol” and the
thought makes me smile. What in the world am I
doing here in this place?

The grizzled man is the first to speak, “Welcome Ivy
.
My name is Tom”. The dog looks at me with his
human looking eyes as though shocked to see me
standing in front of him. I shoot him an accusatory
look and we lock gazes. He tears his gaze away and
looks down at the stone floor.

The stranger shifts his gaze to the girl who brought
me to the house. “Why don’t you show Ivy to her
room Emma”?

There is something unnerving about the man but what
choice do I have but to follow the girl- Emma? The
place is eerily silent except for the echoes of our feet
on the floor and the clicking of the dog’s nails on the
stone floors.
Are these people dead? I don’t imagine that the dead
would make sounds as they walk and besides that I
had held the girl’s hand. She had felt real enough
when she led me through the mountain.

The place appears to be empty. We pass an empty
dining room, a sitting room and a large library and
continue down the long corridor. Fear comes in
waves, down my neck and back, like stabbing pain.
Memories of the old house Jen had lived in come to
mind. The faces of the ghosts and demons I
encountered in there are clearly in my mind’s eye. I
glance periodically over my shoulder to see if there is
anything behind me but of course there is nothing.

Perspiration dampens my neck despite the cold chill
in the place. The shadowy walls are constructed of
stone like the floor and give the impression of a
dungeon of sorts. The narrow corridor is closing in on
me and my heart is racing.

I try to concentrate on the sound of my rubber soles
squelching on the floor to help calm myself. We
reach a large spiral staircase and began to walk up the
stairs. At the top is a comfortable looking sitting area
complete with sofas and arm chairs. A fire crackles
in the fireplace and the light radiates cheerful warmth.
We plod past the sitting room and about halfway
down another long passageway Emma stops in front
of a door. She pulls the door open, and walks inside,
gesturing for me to follow.

Candles burn in the room and there is a cozy fire in
the fireplace. A large four poster bed sits in the far
corner and there is a window not far from the bed.
The window is large and dark red curtains hang down
either side to the floor. Next to the window is a desk
and comfortable looking oversize chair. There is a
tray of food on the desk and a steaming mug of hot
cocoa.

I walk over to the window and look outside. It is not
yet dusk outside and I can see the iron fence I had
climbed over in the distance and far beyond that is the
sea. Then the door closes and I assumed Emma has
left.

Turning around I see a pleasant looking woman
standing by the bed. Her face is round and her eyes
dance with light. Spiral curls of red hair frame her
face and a shock of red curls wind down her back.

She sits on the edge of the bed and gestures for me to
move to the leather chair next to the desk. She wears
blue jeans and a t-shirt which seems very out of place
in this house. I had expected something more
traditional and the modern way she looks throws me
for a loop. Any trepidation I may have about the
place has vanished. I have always been a good judge
of character and something in her eyes makes me feel
at ease. The woman, who I learn is called Lizzie,
talks for a short while and then takes leave so I can
eat and get some sleep.
It’s all I can do to not inhale the cocoa and
sandwiches that have been left for me. The bread
melts in my mouth and the cheese and meat are
among the finest I have ever tasted. There is even a
small piece of pie for desert but I can only take a few
bites.

By the time I consume the meal and rich cocoa I am
feeling much better. My body aches from all the
miles I have walked and my mind is quickly fading.
My eyes are hardly able to stay open as I change into
the long shirt that has been left on the bed for me. As
soon as my head hits the pillow I am asleep.

In a green ocean of pine trees and twisted branches it
seems impossible that light can penetrate the
darkness. I find myself outside the strange house in
the coolness of a pine forest with my backpack slung
over my shoulder. The pine scent lingers in the air
and I can hear the faint sound of music from far away.

This dream is different somehow than others I have
experienced. I am walking on a tangled trail in the
woods on a full-mooned night. A memory from a
night in my home town pushes its way to the front of
my mind. I can hear the far off sound Fourth of July
festivities, kids screaming on carnival rides and even
the sounds of fire crackers in the distance. The trail
narrows and I push aside limbs and prickly vines that
are interwoven among the tree branches.

All of a sudden I walk out of the trees and find myself
in Gig Harbor. The night is warm and has the
magical feel that are reminiscent of most small town
festivals. I am walking down the hill, along the rows
of small restaurants and people sit outside on patios
sipping wine and sharing the latest gossip. I can see
the carnival rides at the bottom of the hill in the
parking lot that stretches out along the waterfront.
The bright lights of the parachute ride cast magical
lights on the dark water of the Puget Sound. The
small town is teeming with visitors. College kids
from the University Of Washington have made their
way across the Sound by ferry and people from
several adjoining towns have turned out to enjoy the
festivities. A local band is playing the latest songs
and some high-school kids are hiding behind a shed
smoking and drinking a bottle of stolen wine.

One of the voices laughing behind the shed is my
own. It’s funny how something that seemed so
insignificant can cost you so much. That stolen wine
cost me dearly in many ways and as the saying goes

hindsight is 20/20. I would be arrested later that
night, for theft, as the grocery store had caught me on
camera. As if life wasn’t difficult enough for me that
summer. I had made a flying leap from the frying
pan into the fire. But that’s a whole other story. One
that is best left for another time.

People are milling around the town and meander from
booth to booth. I stop to watch one booth in
particular. An older lady with beautiful milkchocolate skin is rearranging her hand crocheted
afghan and baby blankets that she makes to
supplement her pension. I can see the same old
twinkle in her eye when a young couple with a baby
stopped to admire the beautiful blankets. They went
through the stack and the young couple exchanged
glances but the seller missed nothing.

“You know, this
one has a few flaws and I really
shouldn’t be selling it. Would the two of you like to
take this one off my hands”? As she spoke she took a
lavender and yellow baby blanket and put it into a
paper bag .

The young woman shook her head and started to
speak but June wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“You’d be doing me a favor to take this one. It wasn’t
meant to come hereand I just can’t see throwing it
away”. While she spoke she put the bag in the
woman’s hand and went about rearranging her goods.
The woman smiled and took the blanket out of the
bag and placed it around her baby.

The young couple smiled warmly at June and walked
off. Seeing Gramma June brings tears to my eyes.
It’s just like her to do something like that. She
always thought of other people before herself. I can’t
help but grieve for her, even in my dream. The week
we were to move into the caves I went to her house
and she was gone. The little house was empty and
June was nowhere to be found. I searched for her for
days and there was no trace. She had just vanished
out of thin air and it was all I could do to not
disappear myself. I was a mess the day we locked the
doors to the caves knowing what was coming.
Perhaps the people from the other side took her away.
If anyone deserved to be spared it would be June.