Is This Smart? (Under editing and revising)

Chapter 22

The cave is very, very strange. Something you would not expect to find in a cave lines the walls. Cardboard boxes and shelves. Shelves with strange objects scattered across them. That's all I can see from where I sit, just outside the cave entrance. It looks as if the cave is quite deep. More than enough room for us to stay. Besides the boxes and shelves, it looks as this cave was once completely normal. But, who knows? What monsters and perils could lay within those dark shadows?

I stand and hop over to Maggie and Ann, who are standing in the absolute mouth of the cave without saying anything. We all just survey the cave and land surrounding it. Trees. Nothing but trees, leaves, rocks and nature. As far as we can see. I have no clue which direction we came from and where we are located, in reference to the park, or the haunted hotel. We all procrastinate. Trying to post pone entering the cave.

"Is that where we are supposed to go? Is that the safe place?" I ask, somewhat shocked. Maggie glances down at me, then over at Ann. No one answers or moves for what seems like years.

Then, cautiously, Ann breaks the silence, "Well, I suppose so. It looks like it. I mean, what else could that riddle mean?"

I shrug my shoulders and reply, "I don't have a clue." I look up. The sky has grown considerably darker and clouds, perviously white and motionless, swirls menacingly overhead. "Umm. Guys?" I question.

Instantly, both sets of their eyes stare down at me, waiting for an answer. I just till my head back and look at the dark, rebellious looking sky. They follow my gaze. We've been caught out in storms, ands it's an experience I'd rather not repeat. "Where are we going to do?"

Maggie answer quietly, "Well, there's onl--" I cut her off.

"We honestly can't stay out here, what with the storm and all. And, we need to get back to Jennifer. Well, then we need to get back home." I begin in a rising panic.

"Shhh! Chelsea! Calm down." Maggie says placing here hands on my shoulders, "We will figure something out. We always do."

"Yeah." Ann agrees, "Now we just have to get out of here before that storm hits. Follow me." She finishes while turning to the cave and disappearing behind the leafy curtain. Maggie and I follow.

Once inside I lean against the wall, slid down, and sit on the ground, with my hands on my head. I drop my cold fingers to the ground next to me.

The upper layer of earth is soft and spongy, covered with moss and spotted with thick patches of weeds. I'm not sure how they could grow in here because, there is no light source, besides the opening of the cave.

The walls are cold and dark gray, and, in some spots, small trails of water drops streaming down the walls. Everything is tinted in a dark shadow. As if most of it has been dipped in dark paint and left out to dry. I close my eyes, so that I a chance to completely adjust to the darkness.

I feel my eyelids become heavy with fatigue. Someone slides down next to me, but I don't open my eyes to see who it is. After all the events of the day, sleep over takes my body. A person, Maggie I suspect, lays me down and covers my shivering body with thick blanket. I'm lulled to sleep by one sound. The pattering of rain on the dry leaves, scattered crossed the forest floor right outside the cave.

~~~ The Next Morning ~~~

My eyes flutter open, only to not remember where I am. I sit up quickly and look around. I see the mossy floor and dark walls. Eventually, I remember. I'm in the cave. Our so called 'safe place'.

Maggie and Ann are both still asleep, directly across from me. I throw off the blanket I was covered with. I hold it up to try to fold it, but I drop it instantly when I realize what it is and where I've seen it before. Recently, actually. Two nights ago, I think. When we broke into the cabin at the park. When we all woke up, this checkered quilt covered us. The memory of that night and the night before, brought on a shiver running throughout my body. The hotel. The cabin. The mall. The boat. All of it comes back.

I crawl over and look down at Maggie. I whisper her name in a singsong kinda way. Like me, her eyes flutter open. She jumps and exclaims, "Ahhh! Chelsea? Dude! What the... Why? You gave me a heart attack!"

I just smile down at her. Ann groans. Maggie cries must have waken her.

After we all are completely awake, we sit in a tight circle, plotting our next, strategic move.

"We should try and find our way back to the park." Ann suggests.

Instantly, I reject that idea, "No. We aren't going to be able to do that. We are in the middle of nowhere and with my leg and all. I don't think I could go through that again. Honestly, I don't."

"I agree with Chels. We should stick around here. At least for one more day," Maggie agrees, "This cave must have some importance, I mean, with that old note that lead us here. This place must be significant, somehow."

Eventually, we all agree on a plan. We are going to stay until tomorrow morning, then we will try to get ahold of Jordan or Colin. But, until then, we are going to explore this cave. The shelves, the boxes, everything.

The rain has stopped and the sun is finding its way through the spaces between our viney curtain.

We decide to begin our investigation of this strange cave. I've already noticed the countless boxes and three or four shelves positioned on the rock walls. Covering all the shelves is a layer of dust and sand. Nothing out of the ordinary. A small portion of the shelf is where the blanket must have been placed. But, why? Why is it here?

As we keep looking, I see a small figure situated on the bottom shelf in the back corner, somewhat hidden by the ever existing shadows.

"Hey, Ann?" I ask, just to get her attention.

She replies with a quick, "Yeah?" Not looking up from whatever she's looking at.

"Come here. I gotta show you this." I inform her.

She maneuvers her way to where I sit, I point out what I want her to see. She reaches down and removes the item from the shelf. Turning, she revels it to me. When I see what she is holding, I let out a gasp. It is something I've seen before. Something I'm very familiar with.

A doll. A glass doll with braids, a painted face, a dress, and a crack running down the side of her small ceramic head. Mary's doll. Cornelia. The same one I saw in the bathroom that first night in the first cabin, last summer. Last summer, when my whole life was changed. Forever. Ann passes the doll to me. My hands reach out to receive it. I'm shaking. Last time the doll didn't have this crack on the side of her perfect, insane face. I examine Cornelia.

Sometime when I was examining the doll, Maggie came over and sat next to me.

"Is that...?" She begins, but trails off. I answer her question with a slight nod. I am still baffled at how this doll is here! Last time I saw it was in Washington. I must admit, I never expected to see her again, let alone hoped to.  Suddenly, a chill runs through my body. I place the doll over to one side.

After a little while more of exploring, we find nothing. Well, that is, nothing of much significance. Most of the boxes were empty. One or two held more blankets. Another held clothes. Very old clothes. Like ancient clothes. Then, a very small box held a book or sorts. We pulled it out, and it looked very fragile. Yellowed pages. Browned photos poured out the edges of the stuffed book.

We decide to spend some time looking at each and every page, photo, and description. Moving over to the mouth of the cave, we open to the first page. A blank page, except for an inscription. It read,

This belongs to:
Jessie, Leah, and Joan Anderson.

We pour over the album for hours on end. We don't stop. Ann looks as if she thinks that she's nearly figured out a mystery. Nothing stops us. We stick to our plan. My mind wanders on occasion. Thoughts of home, Jennifer, and, yes, the Jordan to whom I admitted I loved with all my heart, sometimes distract me from the task at hand, if you'd call it that.

Once I start thinking of Jordan, I'm thinking if I'll ever get the chance to see him again and to say goodbye. I broken from my thoughts, not by my friends voices, but a shuffling outside our cave.