[Read chapters 1-41 here. Only four chapters remaining. A new project will follow.]
I couldn't stop crying and choked on my words as I pointed up to Carmen’s face silhouetted in the opening above.
“Carmen?” I said.
“What’s wrong with Joe.”
I couldn’t answer.
“Is he ok?”
“Carmen, Joe died yesterday.”
Her eyes grew large, and she looked perplexed, unable to grab that next thought.
“What? That can’t be…”
“I’m so sorry, Carmen…”
She began to panic.
“How the hell am I going to get you two out of there?” she said. Listen, just stay there while I figure this out.”
Carmen moved back from the edge of the hole so I couldn't see her.
The hole was damp and the air felt musty now, sickly. It seemed deeper and darker now, impossible to escape.
“Hello?”
I looked up, and Carmen wasn’t there. Did I really just hear her?
“Who’s that?”
It was Carmen’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. She wasn't talking to us – there was someone else up top.
“Oh it’s you,” she said. “Thank God. Come have a look at this.”
I leaned towards Joe for protection, but recoiled from his cold skin.
Suddenly Carmen’s face was above us again, and then another face popped out, a young, blond, innocent looking face. She smiled broadly, a huge smile that came all the way into our hole and warmed me, for a moment.
“This is my friend,” Carmen said. “She’s going to help us.”
“Carmen, how did you get here?”
“I’ve been walking. I’ve just been following where I thought I should be. Some people have helped me along the way. I don’t know. I’m here. We’re going to get you out of there. Are you ok?”
I nodded.
The girl, who seemed unable to say a word, and Carmen, pulled back from the rim of the hole.
“We’re gonna get out of here,” I whispered to the corpse.
I don’t know how much time passed, but it could have been an hour when I heard footsteps above. In a moment I again saw Carmen’s face.
“You ok?” she asked.
“I'm thirsty,” I said.
“Hang in there,” she said. “I don’t have any water, but we’re making a ladder. Give us another half an hour – we have almost all the materials.
“Who is that woman?” I asked.
“I don’t know her name. She lives in a tree. All her people live in trees, in this amazing… She says she’s here to protect me. I call her Little Calico.”
“Just get us out of here.”
“She’s getting the branches to make a ladder right now. I’ve got to go help her.”
“Come back!” I said. “Be sure to come back.”
I closed my eyes and lay back on the ground. I hadn’t had anything to drink in almost 24 hours. I felt hideously deformed – it was the strangest sensation. My body felt bent out of shape. And as soon as Carmen left my energy dropped. I had nothing left to offer. I lay down on the floor next to Joe and closed my eyes.
In my dream I was on an island in the middle of the Hudson river, crouching in an evergreen forest. Dozens of drones flew back and forth in the sky above me, lighting up Shonda’s device each time, as if they could talk to it. I wanted to wear the sky, it was so deep blue. I couldn't let them see me. But as long as I stayed hidden, I knew, I would never see anything new myself. I realized that meant I would never see my mother, and my heart sank. I could never find her if I didn’t expose myself. I sobbed in my sleep, wanting her, knowing that I would never find her. It was the most painful dream.
“Sarah!”
What? Who was that?
“Sarah!”
I opened my eyes to the dank light. Carmen was back, along with the girl.
“Hey, you ok?” she said. Her voice sounded like it was coming from behind a thick curtain, and her face looked distant, far away. I didn’t answer. I knew I should, but at the same time it seemed ridiculous to answer. Of course I’m ok. I’m alive, aren’t I?
“We’ve got to put this ladder down there before someone comes along,” Carmen said. “Move over to the side, this thing is heavy as hell.”
“If you are going through hell, keep going,” I said.
“What? I like that,” said Carmen..
“Winston Churchill,” I said.
“Who on earth is Winston Churchill?” Little Calico said.
“A leader.”
“What kind of leader?”
“A powerful one,” I said.
In truth, I had little idea who he was. Terence had taught me that quote.
“Move,” Carmen said. ”Muevete.”
I gently pushed Joe’s body against the wall, and stood and leaned as tightly into the wall as I could. Looking up into the daylight I saw the ladder poking over the edge of the hole. It was a beautiful thing, birch limbs held tight to each other with some kind of long thick grass woven into x’s at each joint. It looked sturdy and heavy – I flattened against the wall so it wouldn’t crash down on top of me.
“Be careful,” I shouted.
Carmen poked her head over the side, looked down.
“Nothing to worry about,” she said.
The weight of the ladder started pulling it downwards, with Carmen and her friend grunting as they struggled to control it from the top. I reached up to grab the bottom and ease it down.
“I’ve got it!” I shouted.
“Let it down easy,” Carmen said. The ladder came down and was resting on the floor. It was so tall that the top of it poked out of the hole.
I stood there looking at Joe, almost afraid to move. It was weird. His eyes had receded into his sockets under closed eyelids, his cheeks were hollow.
I moved my head to nudge him a little.
“What are you doing?” Carmen called down. “Come on.”
“What about Joe?”
“You first, then I’ll come down and carry my brother.”
She looked as though she were about to cry.
I stepped onto the ladder, which felt even more rickety than it looked, and I climbed step by step to the surface. Oh my God. The air on high was so clean.