That Thing that Happened at the Cave

[Trigger warning: Abortion.]

My nose and cheeks are cold. They don’t hurt yet. The back wheel on my wagon shudders, so the wagon does. And the handle. And my hand. I don’t mind about the hand. It’s warmer than the other one. The shuddering breaks up the cold in it.

Gran says David comes home tomorrow. I can fix the wheel, but David needs to drive me into town for new pliers. Gran says nonsense, they’re in the house somewhere, but she’s mixed-up. She threw them at those coyotes last week, and I couldn’t find them after that. But they ran off all right.

Gran and Dawn were screaming tonight. Gran kept telling her to shut up. But they were quiet by the time Gran handed me this bundle. The shudder makes it jump about in the wagon like a Mexican jumping bean.

I am supposed to take it down McHenry Road, then up the forestry road and put it in the Elves cave. Then I must cover the entrance with everything I can find. Snow, and brush, and roll the biggest rocks I can in front of it. The bundle is a gift for the elves. The animals must not get to it.

Dawn was gone 19 months and 3 weeks and two days. She left because she says she hates Gran. Gran is mean to her. Not to me, because I am quiet, the way Gran likes it. I don’t cause trouble. My sister causes trouble. She always has. But not for me. She takes me places. She buys me things. She cooks. But she said to me, I can’t take Gran anymore. I have to leave. I asked where she was going, and she didn’t know. Just away. I thought maybe she could go to David’s place in Wellton, since he was deployed and would be gone for a while. But Dawn didn’t want that, so went on an airplane. She had the money from working at the mini-mart. I would like to go on an airplane.

But she came early in the morning yesterday, and she didn’t lock the door to the bathroom, and I went in because I didn’t know she was there, and I saw her step into the shower. Her stomach poofed out and looked funny. But not pregnant, because Belle Menefee is pregnant and Gran says Belle is a show-off because she wears crop-tops to show off her big old baby belly like she swallowed the globe at the library. What library? There is no library here. But Dawn’s belly is like Mr. Allison’s when he undoes the top button of his pants at the church picnics. He rubs his belly all around and says, I’m going to get Dunlop’s Disease. And people laugh, and Pastor Mike whispers to me, Because when you get fat, your belly done lop over your belt. Like your grandpa’s did, remember? How his belly done lop over his belt? But I don’t get it.

David FaceTime’s me when he can. He holds up maps to show me where Gran and I are in the Yoop, and moves his finger all the way to where he is. It’s always hot where he is. His dog tags swing and catch light when he gets up to get something in his quarters to show me. That’s my favorite part. The dog tags, catching the light.

He says I have a new job, and that is to make sure the burners on the stove are off. Off, off, off, he says. Wally? he says. You hear? Check every time Gran is finished cooking. Never miss. She gets mixed up. She goes all the way to the market, but then leaves the groceries in the car and comes in and watches tv. The ice cream melts everywhere, I said. That’s right, he said.

I turn off McHenry onto the forestry road. It’s full dark, but I can see the ice patches on the road. Gran says that when you see them that means the elves dropped one of their magical ice mirrors, and it shattered all up the road like this, reflecting moonlight. And isn’t it pretty? But I cannot step on the pieces because they still belong to the elves, so I have no right, and they’ll be mad. If I step on these magic pieces, the Elves will come out of nowhere to make you fall, and you can break your leg, and who will hear you and you’ll freeze to death. Stay well away from the magical ice patches. Or you’ll anger the elves.

The elves are everywhere in the forest, and you have to make them happy. And if I deliver this bundle, they will keep me safe in the woods. Because inside is a gift. I asked Gran what it was, and she said it was a secret. Just do what she says. I do.

Mom and Dad didn’t, and they ended up exactly like Gran said they would, dead in a wreck and killing two other people as well. Gran didn’t want the people at the hospital to touch Mom’s body, and didn’t want the funeral people to close the lid on Mom’s coffin. She wanted everyone to smell the alcohol on Mom’s clothes and see all the glass from the vodka bottle stuck like voodoo doll pins all over her face and neck. But Pastor Mike came and held her hands and talked her out of it. Dad, she didn’t care about Dad. Dad was no good, she said. A hellion from day one, and now he’s back where he came from.

I am not sure the wagon wheel will stay on. It could fly off and be lost in the dark. I feel the shuddering all the way up my arm.

I stop. The cave is still 60 yards up the road, then about 20 up the escarpment. I’m only supposed to touch the bundle for as long as it takes me to put it in the cave, because my scent on it has to be very little or the elves won’t like it. They won’t even unwrap it to see their gift inside, so it will be like I never gave them a gift at all, and even worse, Gran said, they will hate me for this stinky insult and make the wolves come get me. But I had better not take this wagon farther up the road. I have to risk carrying the bundle and getting my scent all over it. But I’ll go fast.

The gift for the elves is wrapped in this burlap feed bag, and underneath it, I can feel there are towels. Gran told me not to even peek. It was not my gift. It belonged to the elves. I understand this. Dawn used to tear back a tee-tiny bit of wrapping on the Christmas presents to see who got what, and Gran walloped her good. You don’t open up someone else’s Christmas present.

I zig and zag up the road. I reach the spot where you start up the escarpment. The cave is halfway up, hidden among trees that march to the top of the mountain. The trees are even darker than the night. I get my flashlight out of my jacket pocket. I shine the light up the escarpment, this way and that. The light crawls over the tree trunks and darts into the snow.

Holding the bundle away from my body, I start up for the cave. It’s hard to walk this way, with your arms out and carrying something. I sink to my knees in the snow. This will be hard. I will be tired.

I see the Elves cave. It’s not much of a cave. For a human. You have to bend way over to enter or you’ll bang the top of your head and scrape down your neck and back. Long ago, David taught me that before you enter, you have to first go past the cave, farther up the escarpment, and toss rocks down on the roof of it. There could be animals inside. Martens, porcupines, foxes. But maybe a wolf or bear. If an animal is in there, they’ll hear and come out to see what’s going on. If they’re there, leave them be. If it’s a black bear, you get your spray out and move back and away, arms over your head. Do not look directly at it. Same with a wolf.

Gran says that the elves are unpredictable with humans but love all animals. They call to them in ways we cannot hear to come take rest in their cave. We’re not using it now, they say to the minks and martens. So, why not you? The animals are welcome. We are only tolerated. Do you understand? Gran asked me. If you see an animal in there, she said, do not try to chase it away or throw anything at it. The animal will get mad at you, and certainly the elves will. Just steer clear, all right?

Up where I am now, it’s hard to tell the top of the cave from the night on both sides of it. There are no rocks around me. They’re buried under the snow. I make snowballs. I throw them down. I throw 20 down. My arm is tired. No animals come out.

I pick up the bundle and head down for the cave. Maybe David is home already. Last time he had leave, he said it would be Sunday night when he got home, but it was Friday night. He got lucky, he said. You don’t get joyrides on a C-130, but he did. One ride, 2,300 miles. Cut a whole day off the journey home.

Maybe he’ll get lucky again. Maybe when I get back, he’ll be there. Maybe the elves will like this gift and help him get home faster.

David and Gran never fought. No screaming and throwing lamps. But he could yell. If Gran and Dawn screamed at each other, he yelled, Stop, and they stopped. Dawn says David is the golden child, and she gets red and hot and slams her door, and says she hates him. But I know she doesn’t. If I knock, she lets me in. And I know I should hug her because David told me that’s what you do. So, I do, but I don’t like it. But Dawn hugs me so hard I can’t escape, and she cries. She is strong. David is very strong. He tried to teach me to fight because I had to learn how, but I never remember what to do. So, I avoid the mean kids at the regular school. But mostly they leave me alone since David won his medal and was in the paper and on the tv.

When I get to the cave, I put the bundle down next to me in the snow. I put handfuls of snow over it because maybe that will hide my scent a little.

I shine the flashlight in. The cave is empty. Except for here at the entrance. Marten tracks. In a tight half-circle. He saw something he didn’t like and got out fast. At the back of the cave, the ground is a lot smoother. Something big and heavy slept here.

Gran said lay the bundle against the back wall of the cave and get out fast, so my scent won’t linger, but as I go, I must say a prayer, like Lord, please let the elves open the bundle and take the gift inside. She had to say this loud because Dawn was screaming. Something was wild and wrong with her. Gran had said that.

I lay the gift as Gran said to do, but there’s a sound. I shine the light toward the entrance of the cave, but there is no animal and elves are very fast. Maybe they saw me and are coming to collect. I hear the sound again. I turn. It’s from the bundle. It’s scary. Is it magic?

I must go. I did my job. But something is off. David says that. When he takes me hiking here, he might stop and say, Something feels off. Wait here. I want to see. Then he comes back and says, We’re fine. Just better to check, right?

So, I take out my pocket knife and cut into the sack and pull out the towels. I unwrap the towels. I fall backwards onto my butt.

I can’t remember anything for a minute, but maybe it’s been much longer than a minute. That’s a baby. Why is it here? Whose is it? Belle Menefee’s?

Dawn’s. It’s Dawn’s baby. Dawn had this baby. But it’s not baby-sized, like when a baby comes out on hospital shows.

It makes a sound. Like it’s trying to cry but doesn’t know how.

It hurts to have a baby. That’s why the screaming. And Gran didn’t want me scared about Dawn. So, get me out of the house. Give me a chore. Blankets. Get me out with the blankets for the elves, because the night was so cold, and the elves would appreciate it and remember me and think kindly of me, if I ever got lost. And Gran was moving fast to get me out fast, and the baby got caught up in theses blankets. That had to be what happened. She makes mistakes. She gets mixed-up. Through the walls, I heard Gran scream at Dawn for having this baby. Dawn had no right to do this to her. This was just one more mouth to feed. How could Dawn do this to her? And that’s when she called to me because she knew I’d be scared from all their screaming. And she was right.

I put the blankets back around over the baby. Never mind the feed bag. I have to show Gran she made a mistake. I hurry out of the cave but don’t duck low enough and hit the top of my head. The trees ahead of me tilt straight up, and I fall. But I don’t drop the baby. My head hurts. But I have lost my flashlight. I had better not stop to look for it. I fall and get up. A lot. But I make it to the forestry road.

The magical ice pieces light my way, and I zig and zag. I see the wagon. But if I put the baby in it, and I go fast, it might bump up out of the wagon. It’s better to keep running. I pass my wagon where I left it on the side of the road. What if this baby dies? Gran will be mad at me for killing a baby. Dawn will be mad at me for killing her baby.

I think, Please, Kind Elves, let this baby live. Let David be home to protect me, if it dies.

I reach McHenry Road and don’t stop running. I reach the drive that leads down to Gran’s house, and it feels like razor blades slicing up my lungs when I breathe.

I see the Jeep David borrows from his friend Gary, when he comes home. I cry. I never cry. He is here. He will save me. David!

I open the door and run through, and I see David at the kitchen table, and he smiles and says, Wally, and his face changes. He gets up from the table and runs to me. Wally, he says, and Gran turns from the stove and sees me and the baby, and she gasps, and I miss what David is saying, but his eyes get big, and he says to Gran, Wait. Where’s Dawn? Is she here? Okay, Gran says, she is, yes. But don’t wake her. But David yells, Dawn? Dawn? And it’s so loud, it hurts my ears, and I think my head is bleeding, and Dawn shrieks from upstairs, David? David, help me!

Gran wallops me. I fall, but I see David catch the baby.

It is April now, and Dawn is home from the hospital. She says her insides were torn up bad, and her wrists and ankles torn up bad, because she had tried to get free from the bed Gran had tied her to. The baby is named Malala, but Dawn calls her Lala. David said he liked the name because he knew a girl in Afghanistan named that, and the name meant strong.

Malala is still in the hospital on the base and has been since we got here. Camp Pendleton. In California. David is here for 18 months. Training rangers. He got permission for me and Dawn to live here with him. Dawn says no one is sure if Lala’s going to end up okay, but she’s with her every day and sings to her, and she says she’s sure that Lala can hear, anyway.

No one is mean to me here. I have school. In Oceanside. I have two friends. Daisy and Billy.

Dawn wanted to call the police on Gran, but David said no. We have to go. Go, go, go. David backed the Jeep all the way up Gran’s long drive, because there was too much snow on both sides to turn the Jeep around. Gran ran after us, but David knows how to drive backwards super-fast. Gran fell, and David thought he should stop and help her get up, but Dawn grabbed his arm and said, David, no, and we went on.

I wonder if my wagon is still parked there on the side of the forestry road. But maybe the elves think I left it as a gift for them. Fixing that wheel shouldn’t be hard for them. I hope they put in Gran’s mind that she must turn the burners off when she’s finished at the stove.