Enter the Moss Chamber
Chapter 43 of my novel, The Lost City of Desire
[Read chapters 1-42 here. Only five chapters remaining. A new project will follow.]
Little Calico stayed far back from the edge of the hole, separate, as was her want. Carmen held the top of the ladder and leaned way over as I climbed up.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I came upon the hole and there he was. He was alive, but I couldn’t get him out.”
I just looked up at Carmen with an expression of wonder. I couldn't imagine what was next.
“Look at you,” Carmen said, helping me off the ladder to the ground.
“Oh my God, thank you,” I said, stepping away from the edge.
Carmen climbed down the ladder to be with him.
Kneeling next to Joe, she stroked his hair and face.
“Hey brother,” she said.
She lifted his dead weight onto her right shoulder and, groaning, climbed the ladder. Halfway up he started to slide from her grip and I reached down to steady her. Together we brought him the rest of the way to the surface. It was horrible, and terrifying, and also a beautiful thing to do together.
Carmen looked around.
She looked again.
“Where’s Little Calico?”
“She was here a minute ago,” I said.
Carmen did a slow 360, scanning the woods and the trail, no sign of her.
“You don’t know with her. It’s hard to say where she is, or if she’s around, sometimes. Very mysterious kid. And she doesn’t talk, at least not very often.”
“She can’t?”
“No, she can talk. She just doesn’t. None of them do.”
Suddenly Carmen looked towards Joe, lying on the ground, and burst into deep sobs. I felt helpless to comfort her. It wouldn’t be right to try to ease that pain right now.
At sunrise Little Calico appeared on the trail. She summoned them with a wave of her hand. They left Joe and followed her into the woods. After about 10 minutes Little Calico pointed to a spot where a column of light came down on a moss-covered pile of boulders and downed limbs. Little Calico led the way into a small cave, with a dry floor, just high enough to stand. Sunlight fell through the gaps in the boulders and moss grew over some of the wall. We understood that this was for Joe.
“It’s my fault, because I dragged us here,” I said.
Carmen put her arm around me.
“This is a good spot for Joe,” she said. “And I’m glad we have each other.”
We carried Joe, heavy and so apart -- so not there in that body, it was the strangest feeling -- into the chamber. Little Calico had gathered pine boughs that we draped across his body. Because it was just his body now. It was not Joe.
I looked up at the light through the cracks and said, “God, protect him as he moves to wherever he is going.”
Carmen held her face in her hands. We stayed in that cool place for a while longer, unsure what the ritual should be and happy -- strangely -- to witness to Joe’s passing.