Adventures
in Surveying
A short segment from River of Jordan (a Breckinridge Book)
By J.
Reyome
March
1985/Present
Note: this is but a short sampling of what
goes on in Ellet Station, Kentucky and Lennoxton, Tennessee during a certain period
in time that has yet to be determined. I figured it was fairly representative
of what goes on in the rest of the story, and that's why it is presented here.
Hopefully I'll be able to complete this some time in this century.
"I don't know how you talked me into this," Tyler groaned.
Jordan laughed. "Who talked who into
what?"
"Don't remind me."
They were wallowing down a low, wide passage
proceeding almost due west. It was one both were already quite familiar with,
the continuation of the water passage which led from the Druid's entrance. It
had been given no name, probably because no one had come up with a moniker
descriptive enough for the wonderfully rare brand of despair with which this
lead anointed its explorers. Rarely more than two to three feet high—high
enough to tempt one to try crawling on hands and knees but too low to actually
allow such travel—and usually half filled or deeper with cold, cold water, this
was the passage no one had wanted to explore, let alone survey. But that was
the purpose of this trip, to at least get a fix on the direction of travel of
what was to date the only known flowing stream in Druid's Hole.
Their movement through the passage was painfully slow
considering the chill, but it was a slowness with
purpose. They were surveying—mapping—the passage as they went along, Tyler
running point, setting the stations and keeping the book, while Jordan held the
end of the measuring tape and took the compass and clinometer
readings. From this progressive collection of distance and azimuth data they
would add to Danny Wilson's steadily growing map of the cave, and hopefully to
their overall knowledge of the subterranean watercourse as a whole.
It was tough work. Neither wore wetsuits; Tyler considering them unsporting while Jordan simply didn't own one. Neoprene
outfits were not the sort of thing one requested of Joe Barrett, after all. So
they relied on polypropylene underwear and extra layers of wool. Most of Jordan's were far too baggy, being Tyler's castoffs,
while Tyler's own were so tight they barely covered all of him. So they
suffered.
It wasn't so much the persistent chill of the water,
which was certainly bad enough. Both had been in colder water in Big Spring Cave. No, it was the steady breeze that
was the real cause for concern. Wet as they were, the wind would sap their body
heat at a far greater rate. Even now Tyler had been forced to redraw some of
his passage sketches because they'd been, well, unreadable, and Jordan was having
to hold his breath to keep the compass from shaking before he could call out
the readings.
"Science!" Tyler would bellow with forced enthusiasm
from time to time, harkening to an old Thomas Dolby song and expecting a
similar reply from Jordan. When he didn't get it, he knew it
would be time to turn around, but the young fellow had proven unusually strong
thus far. Strong, or perhaps just overly determined. Or perhaps something else.
"How much have we got?" Jordan called as Tyler stood upright in a fortuitously
located ceiling joint.
"Umm, let me check." Tyler added up the distance figures in
his head. "Looks like a hair under eleven hundred feet," he said.
"Not a bad piece of work for a day. You feel like quitting?"
Jordan gave him a black look. "Just
fire us up something to eat," he said. "As soon as I get up there
with you I'm taking a break."
"Fair enough." He reeled in the tape as
Jordan put the compass back in its nearly waterproof plastic case and half
crawled, half swam ahead to join him. By the time the younger man reached him,
he was sitting on a slab of limestone, just barely out of the water, and had a
carbide lamp burning fiercely under a tin of boned chicken and a second going
under a can of water for coffee. And he'd lit a pair of cigarettes.
"Well, we're out of the water," Jordan said wryly, accepting the smoke
gratefully.
"Till lunch break's over anyway," Tyler said. "I want to push this
thing as far we can."
"Sure. Just try to keep in mind that we're going
to have to go back the exact same way we came in."
"Eleven hundred feet." Tyler sighed heavily. "That's a lot
of work in a passage like this. What do you say we drop the survey and explore
ahead?"
Jordan shook his head. "I don't think
Danny would like that."
"Danny's not here, is he?"
"No. But if we did that, we'd really be doing nothing
more than...what do you call it?"
"Scooping? Maybe. But see, if we really can
reach an end, we can always survey our way back here. Perfect strategy."
Jordan was beginning to be swayed by Tyler's arguments. "But what if we
don't find an end? What if it just keeps going and going? We'll be too wore out to survey."
"I won't be if you won't be."
Jordan sighed, not entirely convinced but
prepared to follow Tyler farther into what was looking more and more like
hell. And fortified by a hot meal, he did just that.
As the minutes passed it was getting tougher and
tougher for Jordan to keep up with Tyler, who was
beginning to take on the look of a man possessed. On and on they pushed, the
passage never changing from its typical obnoxious characteristic of low, wide,
and wet. How far now? Jordan wondered, looking back at the murky
water churned by their passage. Another half mile past the place we stopped for
lunch? Was this a test, or was Tyler really bordering on the manic as he
appeared to be? Had he ever intended to survey, or was this just an effort to
run out the passage?
Either way, getting back would be interesting. In the
past two thousand feet or so there'd only been two places where both of them
had been able to get out of the water. One was a high, tight joint lead they'd
had barely given a glance at, while the other was merely a bell dome, a point
where swirling waters had incised a high point in the ceiling only just big
enough for the two of them to sit face to face, passing a single cigarette back
and forth. Two lit smokes in that confined space would've been asphyxiating.
One was bad enough, but the warmth it created was at least comforting.
"I love you, man," Tyler had gasped between hits.
Jordan rolled his eyes and gave the stock
reply: "Yeah, surrre."
That had been thirty minutes ago. And now Jordan was becoming anxious...and
exhausted...and furious.
"This really sucks, doesn't it?" Tyler finally called back to Jordan, a big grin on his tired face.
"Yeah," Jordan agreed. "It really does."
"You gonna have any trouble getting back?"
"Yeah, I really am."
Abruptly Tyler turned. "You're kidding,
right?"
Jordan shook his head angrily. "Do I
look like I'm kidding? Tyler, we're at least four thousand feet into this shithole. I don't know what time it is, but I'd guess we've
been going for about five hours now. I have to go to school tomorrow, and my
grades aren't so good that I can afford to coast a day."
"Well," Tyler sighed, "I guess you should've
thought of that before you came in here with me, huh?"
Jordan didn't reply for a moment, taken
aback by the uncharacteristically sharp response. Then he said, "I'm
turning around. You go on if you want to, but if I go any farther I might not
get back out. As it is I'm gonna be sick."
"Aw, run along home then," Tyler retorted. "Get yourself into a
nice hot bath and bundle up good. Mommy'll be along
with some nice hot cocoa in just a minute."
Again Jordan was stunned into silence, but this
time he was angry. "Fine," he said quietly. "You go on ahead
then. See if you ever find anybody to come this far with you again."
"Well, maybe you won't ever come in the cave
again."
That was okay with Jordan too, and he said so before turning
around.
Jordan wasn't sure whether to be angry,
bitter, or just plain sad.
He was resting for a moment in the bell dome, smoking
the only cigarette out of his pack that he'd been able to light. The last bit
of warmth I'm going to be able to enjoy for a while, he thought. Maybe for
quite a while.
It just wasn't right. What was eating Tyler? Sure, he'd seemed to be a little
on edge when they'd gone under, but certainly Jordan had done nothing to warrant such
harsh treatment. I bet nobody around here would've followed him so far, he
thought. Or ever has, I bet. So what was the big deal?
The passage wasn't going anywhere. They could always come back, maybe with
warmer clothes and more food.
He tried to relax. It was impossible. He might as
well have been on the South Col of Everest, so remote and far from rescue was he. He was
also well past hypothermic and had stopped shaking about thirty minutes before.
It calmed him some, but at the same time he was more than aware that the
cessation of his trembling was a bad sign, the last sign of fast approaching
disaster.
Tyler Maddox was very pleased with himself. Not only
had he pushed the most awful passage in Druid's Hole more than ten times past
its known length, he'd in the process forged a real caver in Jordan Surrat,
maybe the strongest natural caver he'd ever met.
Oh, he knew he'd just seemingly spurned the kid.
Probably Jordan was pretty angry right now over Tyler's apparent monomania and subsequent
harsh words. But it was all an act, a rite of passage of sorts. A test, just as
Jordan had himself earlier surmised.
Tyler knew he'd have to catch up to Jordan and explain himself, but that he
could do readily enough. He'd pushed himself pretty hard too, true, but not so
hard that he couldn't extricate himself. And that was the way caving could be
sometimes; like mountaineering, where climbers die when their drive to reach
the summit eclipses their ability to get back down the hill, hardcore cavers
were apt to push themselves far beyond their endurance barriers, real or
imagined. Few in a situation such as this would have the good sense to turn
around as Jordan had. But not before he'd exceeded Tyler's expectations in every possible
avenue. The boy was strong, flexible, and determined. What's more, he had a dry
sense of humor that made misery like this almost palatable.
"And he doesn't put up with any shit," Tyler smirked. "Not even from
me." As such, he didn't believe the kid would have any trouble accepting
his explanation and an apology. And from that point on, they would be...
Tyler's train of thought abruptly
stopped. Even though he was still headed upstream, the water ahead was as murky
as that behind him. And was it his imagination, or had the flow picked up?
Something was wrong, very wrong.
He didn't think. He just turned around as quickly as
the small passage would allow him and began to scurry back the way he'd come.
He met Jordan at the narrow crevice where the
young man was enjoying a stretch out of the water. "Jordan, we gotta get out of here," he
said. "Right now. I think the water's rising."
"Oh, I'm getting out, all right," Jordan replied coolly. "And when I
get out, I'm never coming back."
"We'll talk about that later. We gotta go, and I
mean right now."
"All right."
They wallowed back downstream, now more swimming than
crawling. And yes, the water was rising.
Quickly.
Too quickly. They both knew it. "Jordan," Tyler gasped, "how far do you reckon
it is to that next dome?"
"At least another thousand feet," Jordan replied. "We're not going to
make it, are we?"
They both stopped, brown water swirling around them.
"Oh Jesus Mary Joseph and all the saints," Tyler whispered. "This sucks,
Jordy."
They looked at each other desperately for just a
moment, then Jordan said, "That little ceiling
joint back a ways? It might be big enough for us to get up into, at least a
little way. It'd get us out of the water."
"Do you think? It looked awfully tight to
me." Unspoken was the obvious: and it's upstream, away from the only
exit.
Jordan shrugged. "Got any better
ideas?"
The turgid water helped Tyler decide. "Let's go," he
shouted.
So they worked their way back upstream, the water
rising steadily around them till it so nearly filled the passage that they had
to press their faces against the muddy ceiling to continue. It wasn't a swift
flow, hardly some fierce current, but it was more than enough to sweep them
away should they lose their footing, so they moved as carefully as they could.
By the time they reached their last hope, the water had risen so high that they
knew that this had to be it. They were utterly committed.
There was barely enough room for the two of them to
stand at the same time. "Here," said Tyler, "let me boost you up. See if
you can chimney up a little and find us a level spot where we can get out of
the water."
Jordan put his foot in Tyler's hands and stepped up. There were
no obvious handholds, but by pressing himself against the sides of the fissure
he managed to work his way upward.
"See anything?" Tyler called up to him.
"Not yet."
"Well brother, I hope you find something soon,
or I'm going to be moving up there with you."
Press, squirm, dig for a
little more upward traction with his boots...inch by inch Jordan made his way up. Tyler would be better suited for this, he
thought, he's wide enough to get some jam holds lengthwise. But he was making
progress, and only ten feet above Tyler's head he found the hoped for cross
passage, such as it was.
"There's something up here," he shouted to Tyler. "It's pretty small, but you
might fit."
"I'm gonna have to fit," Tyler declared, wedging his way up the
joint as Jordan slithered into the narrow canyon
lead. "Can't stay down here anymore. The water was up to my chest. I can't
believe it's rising this high! There was no rain in
the forecast for today."
"Snowmelt," Jordan said, reaching a wider spot in the
canyon and easing himself into a somewhat more comfortable position. "I
bet that's what it is."
"Could be. Say, where the heck are you?"
Tyler's voice seemed to be coming from
above him. "You've climbed past the cross passage," Jordan said. "Come back down a
bit."
"Umm...if you're in that little slot I saw on
the way up, I could be in trouble. There's no way I'm going to fit in there. I
don't know that I can bend my body that way."
"Well, you could just wedge yourself up there
and hope the water doesn't rise that high."
Tyler looked down. The dark water was
less than ten feet below and rising, quickly too. "That ain't gonna work,
brother. I'm gonna be sucking black in five minutes or less."
"Then you'll just have to get in here
then." He looked up. "Seems like it keeps going up above. We'll just
have to get up higher than it can."
"That's easy for you to say," Tyler muttered.
"Well, you have to try."
"All right," he sighed.
Tyler lowered himself until his head was
level with the entrance to the cross passage, then he began to ease himself in
until he wedged firmly. He backed out and tried another angle, with the same
effect. "Nope," he said resignedly, "ain't gonna fit."
Jordan shined his light down the passage
to get a better look. "You can fit, I bet. You'll probably have to
corkscrew in, but you'll make it."
"Jordan, I've tried twisting, I've tried
going straight in. I can't bend backwards, so that's out. The only other way I
can think of would maybe be feet first, and the only way I think I could do
that would be to climb back down and reverse back up and in, and that's just
not possible, the water's too high."
There was a minute of silence, until the water
reached Tyler's boots. Then he said, softly, "You're going to have
to leave me."
"Yeah, surrre," Jordan replied. "Give me a minute. I'll
think of something."
"I have maybe half a minute. Then it'll be up to
my shoulders and it'll be coming into the passage you're in. You need to go,
now, while you still can."
Jordan thought again, then
said, "Did you think about climbing up a bit and coming in feet first that
way?"
"Aw jeez, Jordy, that's dumb. The joint peters
out too soon. I'd never fit that way."
"It's either that or drown,
Ty!" Jordan shouted. "You decide."
Jesus, Tyler thought numbly. This really is it.
He's right, it's the only way.
"Okay," he said, "I'll give it a
shot."
He climbed up as high as the joint allowed, then,
willing himself to be shorter, he pulled his legs up
as high as he could and tried to wiggle his feet into the opening.
It wasn't working. And now he was wedged quite firmly
into the upper portion of the joint.
"That's it," he called back down to Jordan. "I'm not going to be able to
do it. Do me a favor and tell Rose..."
Something grabbed his right foot and pulled, hard. Tyler cried out in pain and cursed
violently until he realized his foot was in the cross passage. "Son of a
bitch!" he exclaimed. "How'd you get turned around in there? No,
forget that, just get my other foot in. Break my ankle
if you have to! Never mind how much I scream."
"Like it bothered me the first time." Jordan pulled roughly and managed to bring
the other foot in. "Slowly now, ease on in and do exactly what I tell you
to."
"We gotta be quick, Jordy. The water's almost
here!"
Jordan guided Tyler's feet and legs along the narrow
canyon while Tyler slowly maneuvered the rest of his body down the
joint and into the opening. It was excruciating, especially when he tried to
fit his torso in. His body was extended all the way across the passage and
twisted obscenely. But the worst was yet to come.
"All right," Jordan called, "you'll need to turn
your body counter clockwise about three inches to pass a projection, then
you'll be in all the way and I can get you started backwards."
"Fine," Tyler grunted painfully, "but if I
do that I'll be face first in the water. It's here."
"Then you'll have to move fast. And trust
me."
"No shit." He took a deep breath and
twisted himself.
"No!" Jordan shouted. "Tyler, you're going to have to let your
air out or you'll never make it. Do it now! And I'll pull you on in."
It went against every survival instinct ingrained
into Tyler Maddox's DNA, but somehow in the back of his mind he knew he could
trust Jordan. Without a word he forced out all
the air out of his lungs, all of it and then some. He could feel his diaphragm
contract, and no sooner had it done so that Jordan cried, "That's it! Now, twist
counterclockwise just a hair more!"
Tyler did, and almost simultaneously felt
a powerful yank on both his ankles. And into the passage he slid, but face
first in water and powerless to get out of it.
Great, he thought. I'm gonna drown in three inches of
water.
There was a pause, then another mighty pull, and he
advanced another foot. Another pause, and, lungs
afire, Tyler felt he could hold his breath no longer. He craned his head
upward desperately and opened his mouth to the water...just as another pull
abruptly gave him just enough room to lift his nose and mouth out of the water.
He coughed and spluttered, and only then did he realize that he had enough room
to move.
"Up here!" Jordan called from above him.
"Fast!"
Tyler wormed backward another yard, then
angled his body up into another, narrower joint. Jordan was about seven feet up, looking
down with a grin. "Told you so," he said.
"Maybe," Tyler coughed. "But we're not out of
this yet. We've just delayed the inevitable."
"Maybe yes, maybe no. There's another cross
passage up here, and it's bigger. Longer too, from the looks of it, and it's
trending up." He climbed up into it, then turned around and offered a hand
to Tyler, who took it gratefully, joining Jordan in a low but comfortably wide
passage that did indeed had a gentle upward grade to it. A shallow but swift
little stream of water accompanied them, but it seemed pretty evident that they
were well clear of the rising flood.
"Well son of a gun," Tyler exclaimed.
"Do you know, Jordan, I think we're going to be okay after all!" He
patted the ceiling. "It's dry. Chances are the water doesn't back up this
high, and if it does, well, we can just crawl on upstream here and gain some
more elevation. As it is, I bet we can wait it out." He wrapped his arms
around himself and shuddered. "But Jesus, I can't imagine getting back
down through that bad part."
"We might not have to," Jordan said. "Who knows where this
goes? It might lead into cave we know."
Tyler shook his head skeptically. "I
don't know of any unexplored drains, or at least not any I fit through."
"There weren't any leads out of the Volcano Room
either, remember?" Jordan reminded him. "Besides, you
didn't fit through that last opening. Take my word for it."
"I'll try anything, I reckon," he sighed.
"But I'm gonna have to have a rest first."
"Don't think I can. I'm too cold. You take a nap
and I'll crawl up ahead and see what I can see."
"Sounds like a plan to me." Tyler scrunched over as far as he could
to get out of the persistent little stream, then
closed his eyes. A minute or so later he was snoring peacefully.
Jordan advanced up the passage on his
elbows and knees. He was too cold to feel much pain, but he knew that he was at
least bruised heavily. So what's new, he chuckled. Long sleeves to school
again. But nobody questioned him in winter, and in fact, damned few had ever
bothered to speak to him anyway. No factor.
As crawls in Druid's went, this one wasn't all that
bad. The little stream criss-crossed the passage
repeatedly, forcing him to crawl through it, but that wasn't all that bad,
especially considering everything else he'd been through that day. He was
amazed at his sense of peace, as if nothing had really happened and the events
of the day were nothing more than an everyday occurrence. But I go through
worse pretty much every day anyway, he thought. Or perhaps none of it had
really sunk in and would catch up with him later. Well, that was fine with him.
As long as it happened after he got out of the cave everything would work
itself out. It always did.
It was a long crawl, though. He went along in virtually
the same conditions for nearly half an hour. He gauged his distance from Tyler at about fifteen hundred to two
thousand feet. An hour out meant a two hour plus round trip, and he knew he was
well past his endurance barrier. He was beginning to consider turning around
when what appeared to be a blank wall seemed to make
the decision for him.
"Well son of a gun," he sighed. "And
isn't this just sweet."
He figured he was well above the high point of even a cataclysmic flood. That
was well and good. But to wait here for the water to go down, with no food, no
clean water, and with wet clothes in a breezy cave might well be death just as
surely as drowning, only slower. And like Tyler, he didn't relish the thought of
trying to get down the way they'd come up.
He smiled and shook his head. So he could still die
here. So what? "Here killed by the cave, or up
top by Joe Barrett," he murmured.
But as beautiful as it could be, as much as he loved
it, the cave lost. Jordan decided a relatively quick death by
beating at the hands of his sadistic stepfather was preferential to a slow,
lingering demise in the cold darkness of Druid's Hole.
He lay there for a long time with his chin resting on
his fists, his eyes screwed tightly shut as if to stem the tears that refused
to come anyway. Crying, he thought, was as useless here as it was anywhere
else. He tried to relax and conserve his energy. The crawl this far had warmed
him up nicely, and had even helped dry his clothes a bit, the heat from his
body raising clouds of condensation that billowed around and ahead of him,
eventually drawn into and beyond the wall that blocked the passage.
It didn't hit him immediately, but when it did, he slid forward cautiously, as if not to tempt fate so
brazenly when his luck had already been astonishingly good. The steam off of
his clothing was going somewhere, somewhere ahead of him, and if that was true,
then what looked like a blank wall might not be. He knew that steam could
certainly go places he couldn't, but at the same time, all that air was going
somewhere, and maybe...
He pulled the Mini-Mag from
underneath his shirt and focused its beam to a pinpoint, then
he aimed it ahead at the obstruction and squinted at what he saw. The steam was
being pulled through, all right, passing underneath whatever the obstruction
was, and whatever it was, it looked like...like...teeth?
His mouth dropped open in astonishment. Not daring to
believe, not yet, he inched ahead, the flashlight in his mouth, pulling himself
along through an awkward place where the ceiling dipped, but so did the floor.
Just beyond this was the true "end" of the passage. He bellied into a
collected pool of water, feeling ahead until his hands rested on the lowest
portion of the blockage.
His mouth twisted into a grin so big that the
flashlight popped out and dropped into the pool. "Flowstone," he said
softly. Not the hardest of rocks, perhaps it could be breached. He grabbed a
toothy projection and pulled. The bottom six inches broke away with startling
ease. He tried another piece, with the same result, Then another, and another,
and two more and he was sliding beneath the broken stubs and into a lofty,
drippy dome chamber that looked curiously familiar. He stood in the center of
the room and looked in every direction. There was an obvious lead about ten
feet above him, and, barely visible behind an arc in the wall, a narrow but
tall passage left the chamber. His heart racing, he ducked into the passage,
knowing what he would find not a hundred feet away but still not ready to be
entirely convinced until he held the evidence in his hand.
And then it was, and he was dashing back the way he
came, whooping for joy.
"Tyler."
The big man barely stirred.
"Tyler. Wake up, it's time to go."
Tyler stretched, blinked like a mole in the
light, and muttered, "Bugger off, Jordy. I've had this dream
already."
"It's not a dream," Jordan said insistently. "Look."
Tyler rubbed his eyes with grimy hands
and peered at what Jordan had thrust at him.
"D-2-1," he read aloud off the piece of
lime green flagging tape. "What happened, did it wash down here?"
Jordan flicked the plastic strip at him
disdainfully. "No, you big dork. I took it off the wall in the D survey
passage, right where we left it. C'mon, let's get out of here."
Tyler looked up at him, jaw agape.
"You're not making this up, are you?" he said softly.
Jordan shook his head, still grinning but
wearily now. He turned away and led Tyler up the passage, and a little over
three hours later they hoisted themselves from the maw of Druid's Hole into a
cold, clear night.
They staggered out of the hollow and into the
fieldhouse, where they changed out of their wet clothes, then without delay
they hurried to Tyler's Buick and sped away from Slug Wright's farm with
the heater turned up as high as it would go. Neither spoke, not even when they
arrived at Tyler's home and found Rose's truck parked out front.
She was sitting on the sofa when they walked in. She
took a deep breath and let it out in a great rush as she saw them, as if she'd
just been carrying the tension for all three of them and had only now released
it.
"Was it close?" she asked softly.
Tyler nodded solemnly. "Way
close." He cocked his head toward Jordan. "This...,"
and you could almost see the words passing through his mind: boy...man..."this caver saved my
life."
Rose strode over to where Jordan was staring at the far wall over
her shoulder, an embarrassed look on his face. She
took his face in her hands. "God, but you're cold," she said softly.
Then she hugged him. "Thank you," she sighed in his ear. "Thank
you for bringing him back, and thank you for bringing
yourself back. I was so scared."
"Me too," Jordan said uncomfortably. But that was
about to get worse, when Tyler made it a three way.
"I was joking in the cave," Tyler said, "but I mean it now. I
love you, man. I treated you like dirt to see how strong you were, and not only
did you never flinch, you saved us both."
"I didn't do anything you wouldn't have
done," Jordan protested.
"Not the point," Tyler said. "You made me do something
I couldn't do. That's the point."
"A hot bath and a warm bed for both of
you," Rose ordered.
It should've been so simple. "I'll have to be
getting home," said Jordan. "I'm going to be in pretty
deep trouble as it is for being so late."
"It's a Saturday night!" Rose said.
"And it's not even ten yet."
"But I told Joe Barrett I'd be home by
seven."
She pursed her lips. "You let me take care of
that." She walked over to the phone, picked it up, and dialed it.
Jordan gasped, paled, and nearly fainted.
He might've toppled to the floor but that he was still being hugged fiercely by
Tyler. "No!" he cried. "Tyler, tell her to stop!"
"Is this Mr. Barrett?" Rose said into the
phone. "Corporal Barrett, this is Rose Weyrick." There was a pause,
and she said sweetly, "Yes, yes I am." Another pause, then,
"Why, thank you sir! We're not always on the best of terms, he and I, but
he is my father and I certainly respect him and everything he's done for Breckinridge County. And you too, Corporal
Barrett."
Jordan looked at her in horror. She gave
him a funny look and continued. "Well sir, we're all over here at my
husband's house. Jordan has had kind of a full day in the
cave. In fact, it's my understanding that he saved my ex's life today. The
thing is, he's pretty upset because they were hung up
in the cave so long, and now he's late getting home. And there's so much to do
yet—a debriefing, a look at the survey notes, and probably an incident report
too. And I was wondering if you'd mind terribly if he stayed here tonight."
"Hey, great idea!" Tyler exclaimed.
"I am dead meat," Jordan muttered.
"Oh, at least through tomorrow evening, sir, if
that's okay with you." She went on for another couple of minutes, chatting
up Joe Barrett as if they'd been close friend for years, and when she finally
ended the call with, "And you have a very pleasant evening, sir," she
put down the phone and smiled at Jordan. "There," she said.
"All fixed."
"Please don't ever do that again," he said.
"Never. I promise." Then she waxed serious.
"Now, hero, get yourself stripped and into the shower. You look like
you're chilled clear through."
He was. But not entirely from the cold.
Copyright © 2008 James David Reyome.
All rights reserved.
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