SAUL SHINES THE FLASHLIGHT on the heap of rubble blocking his way back to St. Peter's.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
He turns to examine the tunnel ahead, focusing the narrow beam of light towards the section where it appears the cavern branches off in two different directions.
Doesn't look like I'm going back that way, so the question is, left or right?
He peers in the hole that opens in to the mine-like tunnel he'd examined earlier to assess his options.
Hmmmm. This sucks. What if I'm trapped down here and I die and nobody misses me? Years from now all they'll find is a skeleton in some dusty old Ben Sherman outfit.
Saul runs his forefinger nervously back and forth across his chin, pondering which path he should take.
Okay. This one's crumbly and dangerous and that one's crumblier and more dangerous. Guess I'll take the one that looks safer...sort of...anyway.
He breathes deeply as he points the light in the direction of the tunnel that veers off to the right, and sets off on his journey in to the dark.
Fifteen minutes later Saul comes to an abrupt halt as a fat, brownish-black rat ambles across his pathway.
"Whoa! You're a big motherfucker!"
The rat slips into a small hole and disappears from view.
"Hey wait a minute. How did you get down here anyway? Where ya goin'? Help a guy out here...show me the way outta here."
Saul's hand is back on his chin again, rubbing back and forth on the stubble he hadn't bothered to shave for the past few days.
I can't believe I'm talking to a rat. Maybe I should’ve thought about shaving before I came down here. By the time I get out of here I'm probably going to look like a Latin Grizzly Adams.
Saul drops to his knees and aims the beam of light towards the spot the rat disappeared into. A gust of cold air blows past his face. The hole isn't any larger than a basketball, but that’s large enough for Saul to poke the flashlight inside and get a peek at what's on the other side of the wall. He shines it back and forth, from top to bottom. The small hole opens into a much larger chamber, one that appears to have formed naturally, with walls of rock and reddish clay. At the far end he can see the opening of another chamber.
Wonder where that goes? If that rat can get in here from somewhere, maybe I can get out that way. Not from here anyway. I'd have to be a lot smaller. Duh.
Saul stands up and dusts his knees off and continues on through the tunnel. There's a bend up ahead obscuring the view, so he picks up his pace in an effort to find a possible exit. His heart sinks to his stomach as he rounds the curve to find a dead end.
A pile of rubble; timbers and stone have collapsed, probably decades ago, permanently sealing off the possibility of any further forward movement.
"That's just fuckin' great!" he announces to no one in particular. "Should I climb into the death trap that looks like it'll collapse if I breathe too heavy? I am totally screwed."
Saul falls to the floor of the tunnel in a heap. He feels a sharp pain jab his behind as it touches the ground.
"Awww! What the hell is that?"
He fishes in his pants pocket and pulls out his cell phone.
"Yes! I forgot about you. What are the chances of getting a signal down here?
He flips open the phone and examines the display carefully.
"Not a single bar. Dammit!"
He trudges back down the tunnel towards the spot where the rat had crossed his path earlier and holds the phone down near the hole. The cold air blows past his face again, but still no signal.
Further down the corridor he continues back, back to the sight of the original collapse, closest to St. Peter's. He flips open the phone again, holding it up to the top of the heap of bricks, boards and mixed debris that tumbled down behind him just as he entered.
One bar.
Saul scrolls down his list of contacts, pulls up Clarice's number and presses SEND.
CLARICE AND MARSHALL HAVE JUST FINISHED LUNCH at Presto Grill and are stepping out on to Trade Street when she hears her phone ringing in her bag.
"That's Saul calling. Hold on a second lemme dig in my bag here.”
"That was fast," Marshall quips. "Didn't you just leave him a message ten minutes ago?"
"I guess I must have more of an impact on lover boy than I suspected," she chuckles.
"Don't be too smug," Marshall counters.
Clarice digs deep into her bag before finally extricating the still ringing phone. She pops it open and shoves it to her ear.
"Saul? Is that you? I was an asshole. I'm sorry. I forgive you. I wanna see you."
A mixture of Saul's voice and static respond from the other end of the signal.."
"Clarice?...Can you hear me?...trapped...St.Peter's...can you hear..."
The signal goes dead.
"Saul? Are you there? What's wrong? I can't hear you."
Marshall places his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"What's wrong? What did he say?"
Clarice looks at Marshall with a dazed expression, as though she's operating on automatic pilot. She snaps the phone closed and slides it into her coat pocket.
Marshall grabs Clarice by the shoulders and wheels her around.
"Clarice? What's wrong? Where is Saul?"
Clarice stares straight ahead momentarily, expressionless.
"Clarice?"
"I don't know," she says haltingly. "The signal was very choppy. All I could hear was something about St. Peter's... and being trapped."
MATTHEW IS STANDING AT THE FOOT OF HIS MOTHER'S BED in Mercy Hospital. She's been comatose for nearly three days now. It's 7 in the morning when Dr. Weinstein finally appears.
"How long now?" Matthew asks.
"It's hard to tell," says Weinstein, "maybe two or three days."
"And there's no chance of her coming back out of it?"
Weinstein places his hand on Matthew's shoulder.
"Mom is dying," he says matter-of-factly. "There's nothing you or I or anybody else can do about it except be here for her during the process. You've been here throughout it all. She knows you love her."
"I hear what you're saying," Matthew says, his voice cracking. " But I can't help think that there's some other option we're overlooking."
"I wish that was the case Matthew. It's not."
Dr. Weinstein squeezes Matthew's hand momentarily.
"You've been a better son than most, believe me."
SAUL CAN HEAR CLARICE ON THE OTHER END OF THE CALL, but only intermittently. "Asshole...sorry...I wanna see you."
"Clarice? Help me!" He screams. "I'm trapped in that tunnel at St. Peter's. I can't find a way out."
The phone signal goes dead as the flashlight starts to dim.
Great. No phone. No light. What am I gonna do?"
~ David Moore |
