Afraid of heights, I always knew I would fall. I just never knew how deep, with secrets too dark to ever mutter…
If you can hear my thoughts, come closer. Don’t you see them? Out of cavernous pits, scaly green shapes slink across the rocks, breaking through to the sun above, moving past you like a whisper. Yet the world sleeps, unaware of this tense moment where two worlds temporarily merge—us and THEM—into one space. They lay waiting all around you, just a breath away, shaping lies into truths, or so I am told.
What would you do if nature had been hiding a different sort of history, one deleted from human memory? Would you want to know? Reality tells me to go back to sleep, to forget. Logic forces me to believe in this, but you must find out for yourself.
As far as Flannery Birch knew, there was nothing safe in this world and nothing sure to believe in. Especially now, while stuck in Huntsville, Alabama—an alien land so far from home. No more boardwalks or the sandy beaches of Virginia Beach. No more seeing best friends, Sheila and Debi, and hanging out at their favorite mall. In an instant, her familiar routine was replaced by scary tree-covered mountains, a school filled with thick Southern accents, and her grandma’s greasy cooking—as if she was swept away by a cruel current and deposited here, robbed of everything that mattered.
Gunfire in Afghanistan took Mark Birch, her father, away, along with every sacred memory she could no longer revisit, like the park where they played Frisbee or the ice cream parlor they would visit after long bike rides. Now, over 700 miles separated her from home. She was a prisoner of circumstance, kept behind invisible bars. In defiance, her unpacked suitcase stood by her bedroom door. This would never be home.
She had few memories of Huntsville, apart from sporadic trips at Christmas time or summer breaks. Now, it was permanent. She was stuck here and couldn’t get used to it. When she looked out her new bedroom window, she saw a steep valley below and jagged gray rocks waiting for her to fall. Worse than that, high school as a newcomer mortified her. The twisting halls felt like a labyrinth to keep her lost. She kept her head down, but their disapproving stares dug into her back, and their giggles threatened her tolerance.
Pain gripped her stomach, and her breathing was labored as she fought back tears. After all, Fee didn’t want to cry in biology class—not even the third to last week of school. Making a scene now would ruin any future without teasing at that school, not that she had much of one, anyway. Many of the kids kept a wary eye on her, probably waiting to see if she would crack. As proof, Fee caught the dark-haired boy next to her watching her, causing her blood to congeal. Please don’t let Niko Sari see me fall apart, she thought. Anybody, but him.
She straightened up in her chair, pretending to pay attention to Ms. Larson prattling on about upcoming exams. The teacher wore a straight denim skirt to her ankles, a buttoned blouse, and her hair in a bun. This was so unlike home. Fee sighed. This was her life now.
Since she arrived two weeks ago with her Mom, Deidre Birch, after her Dad died in the war, not much held her interest. Not Huntsville High or the culture shock. Not even the other 16-year olds, except for maybe the boy in the jeans and black T-shirt. He rode his skateboard in the parking lot before school, getting chased away by a too lenient teacher, after skating up beside her to say hello. Even now, he kept his head turned toward her. What did he see? A quiet, mousy girl in a plain brown blouse and equally plain pants?
A whisper behind her got her attention. Fee rolled her eyes, happy that her back was to Jill Carter, Niko’s flawless girlfriend. Nothing to destroy one’s confidence like being next to that beauty queen, she thought.
“Niko, are you going spelunking on Sunday?”
Jill’s overly sultry voice made Fee cringe as if listening to nails on a chalkboard.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Niko answered, his eyes still on Fee. Her periphery confirmed it. After a pause, he asked, “Are you into spelunking, Fee?”
“Yes, of course. Isn’t everyone?”
Jill snorted and Niko laughed. Was this a joke? Maybe she shouldn’t have answered so quickly. It might not even be a real word.
“I bet she doesn’t even know what it is,” Jill chided.
Shielding her face with her Biology book, Fee slumped in her seat. Her cheeks burned. She pictured Jill’s blond good looks, her cheerleader spunk—everything Fee didn’t have.
Ignoring Jill’s aversion to Fee, Niko leaned into the aisle, narrowing the gap between them, hesitantly asking, “Want to come?”
“Sure?” It sounded like a question.
Ms. Larson cleared her throat to get their attention and then proceeded in her drawl to discuss tonight’s assignment, which Fee reluctantly wrote down with a dying pen. Homework was a chore, even if her old school had already done these chapters on molecular biology. Fee closed her notebook and stared out the window, fingering the beaded necklace around her neck. A metal charm in the shape of a swirl, like a seashell spiral, hung from the center. A gift from Dad after a trip to Djibouti, Africa, it was her good luck charm—the one thing she had to help her get through rough times.
The bell rang. Relieved, Fee slung her green backpack over her shoulders and waited for the chatty girls in shorts and flip flops to clear the aisle. The dress code was so different. She would have been suspended if she wore a tank top back home or secretly chewed gum like Jill behind her, waiting for Fee to move aside. Niko elbowed his way to catch up to Fee, but Jill clasped his hand, claiming ownership.
“So, see you Sunday?”
Snippy Jill made a disgruntled sound as she awaited Fee’s answer.
“Sure, when?” She felt an evil delight when Jill’s pointy jaw dropped.
“We’re meeting at the Five Points coffee shop at two.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good,” he smiled. “See ya.”
Jill dragged him past Fee and stomped her way to her locker, which Niko leaned against, paying too much attention as Fee slowly squeezed into the crowd. She ducked behind some boys in overalls, ignoring talk of monster trucks and hunting, and focused on her pressing concern. I better find out what this spelunking is. What if it was jumping off cliffs or mud wrestling? She had better find out, now!
Through the double doors, hot air enveloped her like a second skin. She suddenly knew why the dress code here was so lax. Maybe tomorrow she would dress like the others and fit in better. At least on the surface.
Fee retrieved her cell phone and settled into her purple Neon, flinging her backpack onto the floor. Connecting to the web, she typed in letters, guessing on how to spell such an odd word. The answer flashed on the screen. Her gut gurgled nauseously. I’m in serious trouble.
A knock on her window made her jump. A brunette in red shorts smiled sweetly. Fee lowered the window when she recognized the petite girl with the heart-shaped face.
“Hey, Fee. I heard you were coming Sunday.”
“Yeah, spelunking? Wouldn’t miss it.”
Mai Pha had welcomed her right away on the first day of school, inviting her to sit with her in P.E., making it tolerable. Also, being Niko’s childhood friend sweetened the deal. Who couldn’t like Mai? Naturally happy, she eased Fee’s dark mood.
“Wear hiking boots and elbow and knee pads if you have them. Some of the more serious cavers wear waterproof socks and boots or special rubber shoes called wellies, but you’re a newbie, so we won’t push you too hard.”
Oh. I have none of those things. Not even hiking boots. There weren’t many places to hike in Virginia Beach. Maybe a sand dune, but that was done barefoot.
“Uhh, thanks.”
She dug herself into a deeper hole by agreeing to do this. Maybe caving would swallow her up and end this charade. Bits of old memories tried to push through, but she cast them back into the murkiness of forgetfulness.
Fee gave a nervous wave and backed away as quickly as possible. After a few minutes of traffic jam with everyone leaving at once, Fee sped along the flat roads until the base of Montesano came into view—its entryway shadowed by leaves. Taking a deep breath, she began a slow ascent, with its single road like spider’s silk luring her to her demise. Higher and higher, the lane twisted past houses and so-called scenic views. Gray rocks jutted out from the cliffs, and hawks soared above the trees. Sweat beaded on her face. Her knuckles turned white the harder she gripped the steering wheel. Why did she have to move from a flat beach to a dark mountain? Don’t look over the edge! How far does it drop? That doesn’t look safe. Can’t they put a guardrail around that scary curve? Ugh, why did I look?
Luckily, Grandma Anne Koster’s “wooden tree house”, as she called it, wasn’t at the very top of Montesano. No, it just nestled near the edge, as if daring a mudslide to fling it off its perch. Visualizing that in detail, Fee pulled up the gravel driveway and shuddered. The two-story cabin-style home, shielded by foliage, had never been a place she wanted to visit, let alone live.
“Fee.”
A tired woman dressed in business casual sternly greeted her on the stoop. Fee noticed more gray streaks to her Mom’s hair these past few weeks. Though she sympathized, Fee wished her Mom was still at the bank where she worked. She knew what was coming.
“I left you a snack in the kitchen.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Fee…”
About to talk back, Fee clamped her mouth shut when Gram paused in the hallway. No matter the friction between her and her Mom, Fee couldn’t hurt Gram, whom she adored. Those pale blue eyes softened her disposition, and her dignified face de
manded peace.
“I’ll take it to my room while I do my homework,” Fee relented. Food was a touchy subject. Ever since her Dad died, Fee tried to disappear pound by pound until she was no more, but Deidre wouldn’t let her. A piece of cheese surrounded by fruit salad waited on the granite counter. Fee snatched it before retreating to her small bedroom on the first floor. She refused a larger room upstairs. If a wind storm came to blow the house down, Fee preferred being closest to the front door.
Though a room away, Fee overheard her Mom complaining, “Flannery is skin and bones. I’m going to nip this in the bud before it turns into a full-fledged eating disorder.”
She watched too many talk shows, Fee scoffed, kicking aside her backpack. I don’t look so bad. Fee appraised the reflection in her bedroom mirror: green eyes deep-set with pain, sunken and framed by dark circles. The rest of her was spindly limbs and pale—the very reason she should be back in Virginia. Sure, Alabama had a beach…all the way at the bottom of the state. She was 19 or so miles from Tennessee—no ocean there.
With a sigh, Fee sat the plate on the dark wood on a doily, no less. She grumbled. The small space overwhelmed her. Worse than that, the old-fashioned bed covered in an aged quilt and a shelf above with dog-eared copies of Nancy Drew declared this to be her Mom’s old room. Life wasn’t fair. Most of Fee’s boxes, stored in the garage, had yet to be opened.
As if a mind reader, Gram hovered in the doorway in her slippers. Her heavily-lined face displayed her sunny disposition. “Can I bring you some boxes, so that you can put up some of your things? I can get you some posters. I know how you teen girls love them.”
“Maybe later. I have some research to do after my homework. On Sunday, I plan on doing whatever cool, hip, and happening things that kids around here do,” Fee told her, trying to figure out the slang from Deidre’s youth, in case she eavesdropped. “Probably tour a cave.”
“Sweet.”
Fee chuckled. Gram tried to stay in touch with modern expressions, yet her house clearly said “out of date”.
Fee felt a headache coming on. Maybe she should eat something. She dug her fingers into the pile of fruit to pull out a single purple grape. For Gram’s benefit more than hers, she pressed the plump orb to her lips, pushing it past gritted teeth until they reluctantly parted. Juice squeezed onto her parched tongue. With effort, she forced herself to chew and swallow. Tart, she grimaced.
Gram moved closer, taking Flannery’s pale hands into her wrinkled ones.
“I know you are hurting. Your Dad was the center of your world. We all loved him.”
A tear squeezed out, only one this time. Time had reduced the flow, but not the emptiness. Fee turned toward the window, wishing to escape.
Gram continued, “But you can’t keep punishing yourself because he is gone. He would be devastated.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know, dear.” Gram patted her hands. “Keep trying. It will get easier.”
Deidre crept in, arms folded, cautiously hopeful. They both turned to her.
“You have plans on Sunday?”
So, she was listening.
“Just meeting up with some friends at the coffee shop.”
“That’s wonderful. It will be good for you.”
Instantly defensive, Fee huffed, “I’m fine. Why can’t you see that?”
Deidre nodded and slunk away with Gram behind her, off to reassure her no doubt. A full-time job these days. Fee sighed, wishing she didn’t give her Mom such a hard time, though she was the one who yanked Fee away from her old life and everything of value.
Not in the mood for homework yet, Fee coaxed her computer to work, while sampling a piece of cheese. See? I don’t have an eating problem. Her conundrum was, in fact, this spelunking. Niko was a brightness she needed in her horizon, even if it meant facing her worst fear—heights—and a lesser fear—Jill. At one point in time, eons ago, Fee had little fear. But that was before all this happened. She almost wouldn’t have remembered…if it weren’t for the dreams to remind her. Dwelling deep in her subconscious, like un-exorcised demons, archetypal images haunted her. Sometimes, she swore that she was awake when night terrors manifested. As if not tied to known scientific laws, green, reptilian creatures stepped through her bedroom walls, banishing solid matter with will alone.
Creeping toward her bed where she lay huddled, winged beasts hissed, one by one, as if conferring about her. Conferring about this child who happen-chanced on secrets, hovering in the moonlight. Ancient, webbed fingers touched her forehead, right in the center, making a swirling shape—sacred geometry at the base of all reality. Watching over her, waiting for the time to wake her up to a truth she had stumbled upon, calling in a promise burdened with a profound price.
Tossing in a realm between sleep and wakefulness as daylight streamed through long windows, chasing away the visitors, words like an angel’s whisper would be on the tip of her tongue, “Where there is love, fear cannot dwell.” That’s what her father used to tell her.
Maybe that’s why Fee’s dreams returned after so many years of being shoved away by a resistant mind—improbable memories of Montesano from her youth. She writhed and turned in bed, recalling when she was five and sneaking out of Gram’s house to play in the woods, hoping to find her favorite place—a series of small, connected caves, many merely paths through connecting, overhanging rocks. Like an enchanted garden, the earth vibrated with movement, whether flapping wings or swaying branches.
Back then, Mark, Deidre, and Fee had picnics there, on a flat rock wall overlooking the valley, long before a fear of heights plagued her. A daredevil spirit at that age, Fee darted through the giant trees in her Sunday best and a pair of Keds®, tracing the trail her father had cleared for her, so her little legs could handle the walk. Purple wildflowers covered the slopes, and deer flitted through the low brush, with Fee bounding across the landmarks after them. Red arrows marked on trees pointed the way to Stone Cut Trail.
After climbing a gentle slope, Fee found the rock piles leading to the caves. A world of magic opened up to her. The earth vibrated with life and danger. Going alone made the terrain seem more ominous, but she sneaked into the darkened spaces, touching the smooth surfaces carved by mountain rains.
She didn’t get far, when a giant brown bug hopped onto a rock in front of her. Its long legs were outstretched as if preparing to take her on. Though resembling a cricket, it had spider-like legs, long and creepy. Without warning, it aggressively flung itself at her, hitting her bare legs again and again. Fee took off for the clearing, screaming. Not keeping to the trail, weeds clawed at her legs as she hoped to knock the insect off of her. Did it follow? Checking over her shoulder and scouring the dirt for the monster, Fee tripped and fell, tumbling down the hill for several yards before hitting a tree. Only it wasn’t a tree. It was a man.
“You okay?”
Fearing she was in trouble, Fee froze, quickly analyzing the situation. Her gut told her a man with a badge meant protection. Her instinct clarified it. Mom or Gram probably freaked when she went missing.
Fee would never forget that face. Not handsome, but rugged, with a crooked nose like it had been busted in a fight, and the most piercing eyes that could scald your soul. His longish, wind blown hair gave him a wild, mountain man look, yet he carried himself as if refined and from “old money”.
“Why were you screaming?”
“I was being chased.”
The man crouched, right hand on his holster, as if ready to take on whatever lurked in the brush, whether a mountain lion or a bear.
“By what?”
“A cave cricket.”
He didn’t laugh like she expected, though he gave her an incredulous stare.
“You’re bigger. What didn’t you just stomp on it?”
“Because that wouldn’t be right.”
“Even if you’re afraid?”
“It’s not its fault I’m afraid.”
The strange man in uniform squatted down to be on her level. She felt no fear. Sadness emanated from him and yet gentleness surfaced from beneath his rough façade.
“It’s rare to come across someone without violence in their heart,” he said as if to himself. Undeniably, he witnessed cruelty as a sheriff.
“Do you have violence in your heart?” she asked, suddenly wary. After all, he was a stranger.
“No, I’m Daemon Rothschild. I’m a sheriff patrolling this mountain. Don’t you think we better let your parents know you’re okay? You’re Flannery Birch, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“Your grandma saw my car at the end of the street and asked me to come search for you. She said you play on this trail. Are you hurt? Your knees are pretty scraped up.”
She shook her head, saying, “I don’t want to go home.”
“These woods are not safe. Especially the caves.”
“Why?”
With a crooked smile, he said, “My kind guard these caves to protect people like you from what’s in there, and to protect what’s in there from people.”
“Even if what is in there is evil?”
“Which is more evil: a human or what dwells below? That depends on intentions. Is an untamed animal evil or the man hunting it?”
Fee’s face scrunched up, pondering his words. She was just a kid. He probably said it mainly to himself, but she got the gist of it.
Fee assured him, “I won’t hurt what’s down there.”
A sad smile tugged on his unyielding lips. He probably didn’t smile much.
“Even if it’s a monster?”
“I promise.”
“Not hurting it means never talking about it, never even thinking about it.”
“But what is it?”
“It might frighten you.”
“Are you one of them?”
She searched his gray eyes, finding them shifting. Black pupils elongated into vertical slits, making her gasp, but she suppressed her fear. Maybe he was testing her to see if she meant her promise. She stubbornly raised her chin.
“You run from a cricket, but not from me, a monster?” His face took on a scaly texture with a greenish tint. Even his mouth morphed, and his jaw jutted out slightly…with rows of pointy teeth.
“You’re not a monster. Monsters are evil.”
Undeterred, her tiny hand brushed across his snake-skin chin, both curious and afraid. Not slimy at all, she mused, but soft with gentle waves of yielding ridges. He pushed her hand away.
“Time to go home,” he said, as his face shifted back to normal.
“How did you do that?”
“Maybe you will know one day if you love this land,” he told her, rising to his feet, “if you promise to never go into the caves alone and to never talk about what lives there. It would be the worst catastrophe if either side got hurt by the other. That would start the beginning of the end.”
Daemon led the child back down the dirt path to home, where Gram paced on her front porch, crying in relief when the pint sized girl neared the road. She rushed down to seize the brown haired girl in pink and hugged her tightly, but Fee said nothing. She stared back into the thick woods, at the magical place of heroes and monsters. She wanted to be a hero, but soon she was back in Virginia, returning to sand, surf, and sunshine, and forgetting about the secret caves until they called her back to test the promise.
It had been too many years. Losing her father brought on new fears—fears she hadn’t had as a child, such as heights and of dark places. This unpredictable curve in life took on an uncertainty. She didn’t want to face what might be waiting for her, even if the memory was some distorted childhood memory. After all, monsters aren’t real.