Millions of In-Worlds

Chapter 3: Rescued

There ain't no such thing as waitin' patiently in those circumstances. Minutes ticked by like a crippled snail limpin' sideways 'crost the road. Fears replaced hope. I thought, What if the rescue team gets trapped too? The rock slide could'a caused others. Help might never arrive. A million thoughts crossed my mind. None of them was good. Did ya know ya can fret yourself inta despair?

I sat beside Ren tryin' to calm my breathin'. It was cold enough to make a frog hibernate, but I was sweatin', not so much from the work of movin' rocks, but the effort it took ta curb panic. Ren was dead still, but his breathin' seemed steady. I took that as a good sign.

I suggested ta Freck that she might try to get some sleep—if she could. Help was comin'. It was. I knew it. Or did I really?

We waited...and waited...and waited. Stretched out hope thins, it gets weaker, like the cigam light in my palms. The power was drainin' and with it the numbed pain in my head and arm was returnin' for round two. The lights in my palms slowly diminished. My batteries was poopin' out. Before it was all gone, I got Freck a couple mouth fulls of water. Then I braced her leg with rocks ta hold it steady. At the last faint glow, I crept over to help Uncle Ren. I was able to clear almost all the rocks off him before we plunged back inta total dark. I gotta say, blackness this absolute has a texture. Ya can feel it, brushin' 'gainst you, keepin' you scar't to the bone. It's like bein' in water at night and knowin' a shark is circlin'. Ya cain't see it, but a fin, or tail bumps inta your shiverin' skin just ta remind ya. Ya knows your gonna feel those wicked teeth sink right inta your flesh, slicin' off sumpin'. That must be why we's afraid of the dark. It's not the dark itself, it's expectin' some unseen horror ta grab ya. This inside-the-cave-black-blindness was so deep, it messed with my mind. Ya get's the feelin' that no monster's bite could be worse than this. Ya'd almost prefer an attack over the torture of endless anticipation.

I thought, cigam had made me feel much better and lit up my palms so's I could see. I attempted ta start it up again. Even concentratin' real hard didn't spark nothin'. "Gee," I called to him, "why cain't I get the cigam ta work again? I'm puttin' all my energy inta rechargin' my palms, but there ain't nothin' happenin'."

Gee reminded me of what Grandma Chrys explained to us. "Cigam does not come by thought alone."  He explained, "You can only access it when every cell in your body is in total harmony with your mind."

I had to admit when I froze that panther in mid-leap, and also now, when my injury got miraculously better, it was comin' more from desperation than thought. Cigam is a difficult skill to master, I decided. I remembered that Ren said he practiced everyday, and even though he is a Keeper, he couldn't do things like pull food out of the air. Gee could, though. And Gee told me that both Freck and I would be able to control it in time, given the right experiences.

"Gee what's takin' so danged long?" I whimpered.

He tol' me, "They are trying to find a safe way in. The entrance is filled with rocks. No one wants a repeat of what happened, so they have to work very carefully to prevent another slide. Be patient."

This was scarier than a striped haint as Gramma used to say. I asked her what a haint meant. She told me haint was another word for haunt, like what ghosts do. Why striped, I wondered. She just shrugged.

I knew by the sound of Freck's breathin' she'd fallen asleep. I should prob'ly do the same, but I couldn't. I was too wound up.

I sat there by Ren, chock full of anxiety. In an effort to relax I pushed some rocks away to smooth a spot on the ground. When it was as rock free as possible I laid back with my arms under my head and tried to breathe slowly while countin' backwards from 100. Against all odds, I drifted away.