"Where do you live, Alan?"
He sucked air so cold it burned his lungs. "Come with me." He took her
mittened hand in his and trudged up to the cave mouth.
They entered the summer cave, where the family spent its time in the
warm months, now mostly empty, save for some straw and a few scattered
bits of clothing and toys. He led her through the cave, his eyes
adjusting to the gloom, back to the right-angle bend behind a stalactite
baffle, toward the sulfur reek of the hot spring on whose shores the
family spent its winters.
"It gets dark," he said. "I'll get you a light once we're inside."
Her hand squeezed his tighter and she said nothing.
It grew darker and darker as he pushed into the cave, helping her up the
gentle incline of the cave floor. He saw well in the dark -- the whole
family did -- but he understood that for her this was a blind voyage.
They stepped out into the sulfur-spring cavern, the acoustics of their
breathing changed by the long, flat hollow. In the dark, he saw
Edward-Frederick-George playing with his matchbox cars in one corner;
Davey leaned up against their mother, sucking his thumb. Billy was
nowhere in sight, probably hiding out in his room -- he would, of
course, have foreseen this visit.
He put her hand against the cave wall, then said, "Wait here." He let go
of her and walked quickly to the heap of winter coats and boots in the
corner and dug through them for the flashlight he used to do his
homework by.
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