The Cave Ch. 04

Then again, maybe I was just projecting meaning where none existed. After all, this wasn't the yellow brick road. And Pratt was no wizard.

*

"Up here. To the left," said Riley, pointing out the windshield. I flipped my blinker and made a left into a wayside dirt lot with three parked cars. After breakfast, Riley had asked if we could pick up her car.

"Which one is yours?"

"The silver one on the end. In front of the historical marker."

"Cute car."

"Thanks."

I pulled up alongside her car, stopping before my bumper hit the weeds and we both got out. There were trees all around. Riley glanced over her car to make sure it was how she left it, fishing through her coat pocket for her car keys. I glanced into her backseat, noticing stacks and stacks of the Pioneer Press, a Cities' paper. I ignored it. Her hoarding tendencies were her own business.

"So this is where he took you."

Riley nodded. She gestured to the hiking path sloping up the hills to Jasper Tower. "I took the path for about a quarter mile. I got some great shots of the tower at twilight. But that's all I remember."

Thinking of something, I headed back to my car and from the side pocket in my door, I grabbed my Minnesota road map and in the center console, I found an old pencil with a rock-hard eraser. On the hood of my car, I unfolded it carefully to the northern part of the state and located the tower on the map, marking it with a small dot.

"What are you doing?" Riley asked.

"I'm terrible at directions. I just need a better way to visualize it."

"Visualize what?"

I glanced over at her. "Where the cave might be. If you were taken here, at Jasper Tower, and I was last here, on 169... Amy lives south of Tower..." I marked the map appropriately, three small dots, like the holes in a bowling ball, all about an inch apart.

"You think his cave is in that triangle?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

Riley's eyes clicked to mine. She was smirking with a glint. "Follow behind me?"

*

Tower, Minnesota had no department store, so we had to drive all the way to Virginia, where we dropped a little over $100 on supplies. An hour after that, we left our cars parked on the side of a county road and were making our way through the long grass into the ditch, carrying a plastic, thirty-gallon water trough between us by the handles. We used it to haul the rest of our newly bought necessities.

"Maybe we should come back later this evening," I suggested. "When he normally hunts."

"It's still early," she said, glancing back at the cars. "He might still be on a breakfast run."

"Yeah, but for whom? There's no one left in the cave for him to feed."

Riley didn't reply and we continued tramping through dried weeds and dead leaves, weaving through leafless trees. There was a new compass still in its packaging in one of the plastic shopping bags, just in case, but we were careful to keep in a relatively straight line, even after our cars dropped out of sight.

"Here?" Riley asked.

I glanced around at the carpet of brown and orange leaves and nodded. "Here."

Setting the trough down, we used a fallen tree as a sitting bench and began sorting through the bags. A set of enameled camping bowls with matching cups, candles, a boiling pot, the compass, a small hatchet, a sewing kit and, of course, a first aid set. We also stopped at a jewelry gift shop and picked out a necklace made of black paracord, decorated with engraved silver beads and a shark's tooth. Tiger-shark actually, according to the saleswoman.

"Do you think we should be doing this?" I asked.

"Doing what?" Riley asked.

I held up the coil of rope I had just liberated from its packaging. It was an impulse buy we thought might be useful, although neither of us speculated out loud what nefarious things Pratt might actually use it for.

She was wrestling a pocket knife out of its air-tight plastic, but then she stopped as if just realizing what she was doing. Stroking the outer camouflage enamel of the knife, she blushed deeply, a beautiful shade of coral. "Remember in the cave when I was having a hard time...going? You were so nice to give me half your share of berries."

"I wanted to help."

"Well it wasn't the berries that helped. It was something else. Something inside me that I had to set free."

"Dignity?" I quipped. I was only half serious.

Her offered smile was tiny and pinched. "Maybe. But you know...dignity is like a tree. You have to prune it back so that it will grow fuller."

I tossed the rope into the reservoir tank, nodding. So smart.

*

We stayed until just before dark, but in the end we covered the newly purchased supplies loosely in branches to detract human hikers, trusting this was Pratt's usual stomping grounds and our scents would be enough to lead him to it. Stopping in town, we picked up two #5 combos from my favorite Chinese place and ate back at the house in front of the fire. After storing the leftovers in the refrigerator, I told Riley I was going to take a shower before bed and when she was tired she could have her pick of any guest room upstairs.

In the middle of my shower, I reminded myself a new order of razors would be coming tomorrow with my groceries. Not that I felt I needed to shave for aesthetic reasons—and I was certainly not shaving because Jack had pointed it out—but the hair was starting to tickle under my arms.

I felt a little bad for throwing Jack's card away, but I doubt he was waiting by the phone for me to call. It occurred to me Jack was only responding to the same chemical reaction Pratt smelled. It was no coincidence I had been dropped off at his mailbox, just like it was no coincidence Amy had been left under Don's tire swing. So was it only coincidence Riley was released at my door step? I already suspected Pratt had chosen her for the cave because he knew we would be attracted to each other, but it was different with Riley. We had already been through so much together. And I knew I could trust her.

Although there was something she wasn't telling me. She hadn't called home yet. I knew her parents were dead and she wasn't very close to her roommate, but even I checked in with my editor and my mother as soon as I was able. I thought about searching the Internet for Riley's name. There must be a database somewhere of Missing Persons and I was interested to see if she was on it.

After my shower I dried off, hung up the towel and ran a brush through my wet hair. Entering the bedroom, I noticed the bedside light had been turned on and Riley was lying over the covers on my bed, completely nude.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

I nodded and approached the bed. Equally naked, I lay down next to her and stared at the ceiling with her.

"I closed the window," she mentioned. "It was chilly in here."

"That's fine."

A moment later, her cool fingers laced through mine and squeezed. When her thumb began to absently rub over my knuckles, she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Absolutely."

"Why aren't you married?"

I turned my head to look at her over my pillow.

She gave me a sideways glance and grinned contritely. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay." I carefully paused. "I guess I haven't met the right person."

"So if you had met the right person, you'd be married?"

"Not necessarily."

Her bewildered look sought for explanation.

"There're other factors. Kids, for instance."

"So you want kids?"

I hesitated, smiling at her, perplexed. "I haven't decided. Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just wondering what you're waiting for."

I felt the smile drain from my face and Riley saw it.

"Oh. Oh god no, that came out all wrong." She rolled towards me and threw an arm over my belly, squeezing. Her small breast pressed against the back of my elbow. "I'm genuinely curious. You must know something I don't."

"I see," I said, stifling a grin. "You're seeking wisdom from an elder."

She giggled. "Maybe."

I freed my arm and pulled her closer, her cheek resting against the flank of my right breast. Exhaling, I tried to think of something sagacious to say. "I didn't want to settle for someone that wasn't completely crazy for me."

"I didn't realize you were attracted to the insane."

I laughed. "You know what I mean."

"So how could you tell they weren't?"

"Weren't what? Crazy for me?"

"Mm-hmm. I have a hard time believing there wasn't at least one person in your past that wasn't totally mad for you."

"Maybe," I said. "But it's a two-way street."

"Hmph." Her hand had inched up to my left breast and she was stroking it with the side of her thumb. I felt both nipples constrict pleasurably and I froze so as not to disturb the thrill of the moment. "How do you think Pratt chooses who to bring back to the cave?"

"I'm not sure."

"Do you think he can smell unhappiness? Like he smells fear?"

The question startled me. I never really considered myself unhappy before the cave. Restless, maybe. Not unhappy. "Were you unhappy when Pratt found you?" I asked.

"Well..."

"Is that why you left the Cities? Because you weren't happy?" Brushing her hair back from her face, I pressed my lips to her temple. Is that why she refused to call home?

"I don't know. It was just a silly theory." Her head tilted then, wrapping her lips around my swollen nipple and electricity shot to my loins.

Threading my fingers through her hair, I arched towards her. Her hand lifted to hold my other breast and I breathed out a moan. Peeking down, I saw her pretty tongue roll out and run back and forth over the firm nipple until it was shining.

She peered up at me. "This okay?" she rasped.

"Uh-huh."

She briefly smiled against my breast before she continued to kiss it, leisurely, languorously. "I missed these."

Her knee pushed up between my legs, her pubic bone digging into my thigh, her wetness cooling on my skin. Elevating my hips, we began a slow grind of loins, thighs slickening from the rub of pubic lips. The bed rattled and creaked with our deliberate pumping. Groaning, Riley lifted up, her head dropping back in pleasure, her nipples quivering in front of my face. I managed to capture one in my mouth, latching on, suckling on the young skin. When I had enough, I laid my head back on the pillow and nodded up at her.

This was how it was like in the cave: easy and in the moment. I was present. I existed. I was not watching from the corner like a troubled wraith of my former self.

We were already acquainted with each other's bodies, our preferences, our proclivities, and without words she swung a leg over me, sliding open as she lowered against my face. She was fragrant with feminine musk. My tongue squirmed into her folds, feeling around to reorient myself to her anatomy. Further down, I felt her kiss the inside of my left thigh, the static of her hair brushing the inside of my legs, and a second later her mouth found my heated pubic lips. My legs dropped open as she reciprocated pleasure. We slowly writhed, our practiced rhythm leisurely and unhurried, becoming one unit, arms twined around legs. Riley came first, her nether region undulating against my mouth, moaning low between my legs. I felt her tongue flit with fresh determination until I came undone.

She tumbled sideways, panting. For a few minutes we lay like that, side by side, head to feet, thought gathering. I noticed the ceiling fan was still and thought about turning it on to circulate the air. I changed my mind and rolled up on my elbow to reach the lamp.

Riley sniffed. "Layla."

"Yeah?"

She sniffed again. "I think I love you."

I hesitated with my hand on the lamp switch and for some reason checked the red digital numbers on the clock. 9:38. I snapped off the light. "Come here," I said and tugged up the covers.

Snuggling with me under the blankets, Riley's head burrowed against my shoulder as I opened my arm to her. She was crying, but trying to hide it and it felt surreal to be wept over this way. It touched me.

Pressing my mouth into her hair, I said, "I love you, too."

She lifted her head a little. "Since when?"

"Your first day in the cave," I admitted.

Her head came off my shoulder completely and I sensed she was searching for my face in the dark. "Don't shit me, Layla."

I chuckled, feeling the burn of my own tears in my eyes and I used the knuckle of my thumb to wipe at them. "I wouldn't shit you, you're my favorite turd."

She burst out laughing and I felt her body jerk as she threw back her head. "You're such a dork," she said and cuddled back into my arm. "What do you want for breakfast in the morning?"

"You don't have to make me anything."

"How about pancakes? I haven't had pancakes since I was—like—ten."

I smirked to myself. "Pancakes sound great."

*

When I woke, I was alone in bed. Out the window, the morning light filtered through the cloudy sky. Despite my lack of clothes, I was lightly sweating and I had kicked off the covers at some point. For some reason, it aroused me to know this was how Riley had seen me this morning, naked and glistening. I would have loved to have woken up to see her this way, but apparently pancakes were calling her name.

I didn't dress. Since my return from the cave, I usually put it off until after I showered in the morning. However, I did brush my teeth, quickly, just to get rid of that early-morning breath, looking forward to feminine lips and sweet cherub kisses.

"I'm coming out," I called, opening the bedroom door. The main room was bright as well and I found my eyes weren't as repelled by it anymore. "I'm naked, so don't drop the batter."

I turned the corner to the kitchen and stopped.

"Riley?"

I expected the counters to be sooty with flour and a leaning tower of possibly-burnt pancakes on a plate with more cooking on the stove top. But the kitchen was still tidied from cleaning up yesterday's breakfast. I headed for the living room and looked out the window. Riley's car was gone.

We were probably out of milk. And pancake mix. And I don't remember ever ordering syrup from Todd at the grocer's, either. Syrup being, of course, the most important part.

But then my eyes dropped to something on the coffee table and I almost ignored it as nothing. It was, after all, just a newspaper folded up in quarters to the Lifestyle section and Riley's rabbit vertebrae necklace was laid on top, so I knew she would be back. Strange, though. I didn't get the Pioneer Press here and I know we didn't get one while we were out yesterday, but I remembered the heap of newspapers stacked in Riley's back seat.

Reaching down, I let the necklace slip off as I picked up the paper. It was on the wedding announcement page and I scanned the print briefly before my eyes settled on the black and white photo under: Norton/Perks Engagement. The picture was of Riley in a traditional indoor setting with a marbled backdrop. She was sitting with a handsome young man with glasses and a striped sweater, a nerdy version of Ryan Gosling. I realized I didn't know Riley's last name, until I read it in the article. Her fiancé, Henry Norton, was a biology major at the U too and their wedding was scheduled in June of next year.

Picking up the necklace, I let the spine bones click hollowly together, thinking of all her talk of marriage last night in bed. Foolishly, I had thought she was trying to ascertain my outlook on the matter, but she was merely having doubts of her own impending nuptials.

Commitment.

That was her foible. Her snag. Her lion without courage.

Something occurred to me and I flipped the newspaper to find the date. The announcement had been printed on October 5, a Friday, four weeks ago. Dots connected, I deduced Riley had a mini-meltdown the week it had come out, probably bought out the store in an irrational attempt to keep the news from getting out. Maybe she'd quarreled with Henry and then drove north for the weekend to regain perspective. It certainly could have happened differently, but it didn't matter what really happened. The mere fact I was seeing the announcement at all evidenced her return to Henry. Leaving behind her necklace was no accident, either. In order to make it work with Henry, she was going to have to forget about the cave, about Pratt. About me.

*

When I eventually got around to writing the book, I didn't omit Riley from it, although I changed a few of the most telling details about her. In it, I wrote about the closure Riley had given me in respects to my experiences in the cave, how she held a special place in my heart and that I would never forget her.

It sounded more poetic than what actually happened.

Shredding the newspaper in a hundred pieces with my bare hands, spitting the words "You fucking bitch, you fucking, fucking bitch!" and then sobbing for an hour in my bed were a few of the most telling details about myself I didn't want in the book. It was Todd the grocery boy who roused me from my breakdown, knocking with the order I had put in yesterday.

"Ya forgot da candy," Todd said, sliding the paper bags across the counter top.

"Huh?"

"Da Halloween candy. Though all da way oot here, ya prolly woont get any trick er treaters. We're lucky ta get one er two. Anyways, I hear it's sposed ta snoo, not dat id'ever stopped me when I wassa kid from gettin' my share ove candy."

"It's Halloween already?" I asked. How fitting.

Todd frowned at me. Those nearly invisible blonde eyebrows were looking very worried and more compassionate than I'd ever seen. "Y'alright, Miss Ringer?"

I told Todd I was fine, gave him a big tip and shooed him out the door. Sniveling with dry heaves, I began putting the groceries away, the perishables, at least, like the milk and ice cream, intending to deal with the rest later. I found the lady razors I had added last minute to the order and quickly broke open the packaging. I took it into the bathroom, stripped down and stepped into the empty tub.

The triple blades were shiny and new and did the job efficiently. I thought it would be harder, but it was facile, like an old habit, and I let the hot water run as I did it. Soon my underarms were as smooth as the commercials guaranteed. It was the last of it, the arm hair, the last of the cave on me and I wanted rid of it.

Swishing the blade in the bath water, I set it on the side of the tub by the wall and finished bathing. My legs were still prickly, but I didn't bother. It was typical for me not to shave them until shorts-weather rolled around again.

By the time I was toweled dried and dressed, it was snowing. I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, watching as heavy, plump flakes gently sifted the yard, a thin layer of frosting already covering the world. It not only marked the conclusion of fall, but I could feel the closure inside me, too, sealing a chapter of my life in a tight little package.

How fitting.

*

After allowing myself one night of self-deprecation (the half gallon of mint chocolate chip Todd delivered was especially helpful), I woke up early the next day, bright-eyed and ready to work. I showered, ate a decent breakfast and brushed my teeth. I dressed in clean jeans and a casual blouse and sat down at my workstation to organize myself. I put aside all notes and drabbles about Pratt, Riley and my time in the cave and made an earnest effort to finish my current project before starting any new ones. I had only five weeks to do about three months of work and I relied on the pressure alone to keep me focused and sticking to a rigid routine. After a solid day's work, I made sure to stop so I had time to decompress and get ready for the next day. There was no sleeping at my desk and I left all the blinds open in the day, as well as a sufficient amount of lighting at night. I kept the windows shut and the heat on to a steady 72 degrees.