| | The flashlight was starting to dim. I felt the same way. I watched it fade, saw the beam begin to narrow. I had nothing else to do but watch the stones be swallowed again by the darkness. I thought that he should feel something, rage, or at least fear, but after two days, there was nothing left. I had run out of food and water long ago, and soon he would be without light. I would be alone here in this tomb. It was mine. As the light faded, I was taken by the darkness, and it held me, like a mother holds her son. The air was still, and heavy. I probably didn't have much oxygen left. I contemplated trying to stand again, to shout or search the walls, but I knew I didn't have the energy anymore. I had spent two days hoping, waiting, rationalizing. Now I was empty, as empty as the hole I had discovered. I looked up and tried to see where the cave walls curved into a ceiling. I couldn't see them anymore. I was alone with the darkness.
I remembered a story I had read as a child. A magician was lost in a ruined temple, and the only person who knew he was there was a priestess. He was her enemy, but when she had his life in her hands, she led him out and they left that place together. No one was going to come for me, though. I was going to die.
Either because from the sensory deprivation, or the lack of oxygen, the visions came, one by one. First came George, and he laughed at me. He was in that stupid smoking jacket he always wore, and one of those pretentious pith helmets.
"So, you lost again, eh? Well, don't worry, I'll take great care of Liza now that you're gone. He laughed that grating laugh of his, and exited. Liza followed, veiled and weeping. She couldn't say a word to me. She just turned and looked me in the eyes, red behind black curtains. I cried out to her, but she burst into fresh tears, and kept walking. What had I abandoned her to? Others came, the real and the unreal. The living and the dead. They each looked at me, said their peace, or said nothing, good or ill. I saw the line of exes, and wondered when, or if they would have my funeral when I didn't return triumphant to Buffalo next week. Would they send a search party? I had been so stupid to take that bet. George was right to laugh at me. Suddenly, I saw I was outside of myself, but I wasn't in the empty tomb, well, empty save for what was quickly becoming MY corpse, anyway, but that bar on Chippewa. Liza, George and I were sitting in the corner booth, the usual table, and I pretended not to notice the way he was looking at my fiancée.
"Oh, a true explorer can do it in the old style." I heard myself slur drunkenly. I hadn't noticed at the time how much more sober he was than I. That was when I realized that the whole thing had been a trap, and George let me walk right into it. The rage returned, but I couldn't do anything. I died, with Liza's name on my lips.
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| | Posted 12/12/2006 2:37 AM - 45 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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