The Down Below, Page 2

  Part 2

  The Accident

  Milfred Esabella Manfield had been ten years of age for exactly three days, and was enjoying the changes brought on by the shift immensely. It was not the age that impressed her as she landed on the other side of that spectrum, and it had not been the party or the gifts lavished on her. She liked the comfortable clothes, the toys and the movies, and all of the other commodities offered to sate the Birthday Gods, but the fact that she was going to spend two months with her grandparents, alone, was the thing setting this season apart.

  Milly still had her backpack and pens and paper, she never went anywhere without those, but the books and schedules and the uncomfortable gym clothing reminding her of school times before? They were stashed away in some forgotten schoolyard orifice, plastered with the debris sleep that signals three months of leisurely activity. No more Orange Sherbet push-ups; she hated those and mathematics with all her might.

  A droll beeping sound crawled into her bedroom at six o'clock in the morning, and seven o'clock saw Milly seated behind an avalanche of pancakes, bacon, and types of cereal her mother would find disagreeable. The water for the shower was an icy temperature, she was forced to room with two dogs and a flock of parakeets, the grounds outside looked like a passage from some Hitchcockian resort town, there was no television, and the telephone was limited to the few minutes she talked to her mother each evening. Still, she loved the atmosphere and being with her grandparents.

  Milly thought about inviting Petey Dunnick, her best friend in the whole wide world whenever she stayed here, to join her on her inaugural outing as she carved the first path of the new year. It took almost thirty minutes to walk to his house since she could not call, but seeing him and hanging out would be well worth the wait. The two had once been a unstoppable tandem as they stomped through thickets too overrun for the average person to negotiate, once priding themselves on the fact that they could go anywhere.

  Two summers ago they had run free, without restriction, cataloging all the wonder nature had to offer.

  It had been too long since they had taken to the high ground, searching out the wonders of the impassible landscapes, marveling at the magnificence of the streams.

  Milly missed Petey terribly.

  She still kept the photograph that made her blush in remembrance, of the pop the two of them shared while sitting atop a rock the size of a small house, far removed from nosey spectators. It had seemed awkward at first, each moment bringing flushed cheeks and downward glances, the points of shoes driven deep into the ground as eyes stared hopefully, but eventually it happened. Their fingers looped and they both leaned in, touching their lips like characters in a movie. They had only done it once before going back, but the way he looked at her from then on, like she was beautiful... The thought still made Milly blush.

  Milly stood on his off-white porch for nearly ten minutes, clicking the electronic bell and thinking it broken, knowing someone was inside. She had just about given up hope when Petey came to the door, wearing a dapper suit with his hair neatly groomed, yelling "Who is it" at the top of his lungs. When he saw Milly standing there, he seemed to be in shock.

  "H-Hey." He stammered, seemingly confused, looking at her like you would an unwanted guest.

  Hopes deflated like aging balloons as he left her feeling dejected. The mood changed quickly, however, as Petey smiled coyly, telling her to wait for a moment, that he would get the two of them something to drink.

  Milly secretly wondered if she should request another cola, but thought that might be too much.

  As Petey recounted his tale over a glass of lemonade, she understood that his was not a purposeful slight keeping his door from being opened. Not on his part anyhow. He swore he did not know about her being in town, and had opened the door only because his parents seemed to be avoiding the prospect of guests. Milly understood that, knowing Petey's parents had been less-than-receptive after the last time they went into the mire, even empathizing after he had gotten hurt.

  She had almost forgotten how much she feared those unseen places for weeks afterward, fearful of the ghosts that lingered in the unknown, causing children to fall.

  The two had started their last trek somewhere close to "charming, where the trees grew in straight lines and where the pastures were perfectly trimmed, the world smelling of magic and hay, continuing through the growing isolation until they found "desolate and dreary." She did not think anything of the hill they found jutting out of the brambles, nor did she look at the type of rock, or the fact that Petey was not dressed for climbing. She saw an obstacle and she wanted to surmount it, pushing forward and pressing beyond, hoping to see the things just over the next rise.

  He had been fine with that concept at first, moving slower and with a walking stick but still propelling himself upward, Milly thinking he was ready, that he could take it, that he knew his limits. That idea came crushing to a halt when the hill underneath him started to slide.

  While Milly was familiar with the types of vegetation that could be eaten and types that could be ignored, how to guide herself by the stars if she found herself lost and in need of direction, hundreds of types of insects and dozens of types of local wildlife, types of trees and types of foliage, she was not well-versed on the differences in rocks existing on that forgotten hillside or just how easily they flecked into pieces.

  She had noticed the terrain was slippery, that it crumpled and fell apart, but it was fairly-easily navigated and did not seem to be a problem. The first hundred feet had given her no worries whatsoever, the next fifty somewhat treacherous, but exploration was rife with annoyances and the two wanted to keep moving. The risks seemed worth it when compared to the rewards. Too bad that mentality eventually teaches us that no one is bulletproof.

  Petey never held the fall against her, knowing he needed no coaxing to drop into the maw of the undefined, but his parents, his mother especially, were a different matter altogether. Though many of the details were hazy in his mind, Milly remembered the look on his face as he tumbled down that hill, how his body cracked, snapping, limp as it toppled. She hiccupped giggles when he whimpered and began slipping, but went from laughing to standing in stunned silence to crying three quarters of the way down, wanting her broken friend to rise.

  He came back to life for her.

  She recalled his blue face and the lack of breath, the begging and the tears, and then the gasping. The fish leaping out of water, lips sucking at the air, the color of flesh running white.

  He had come back to life for her, Milly so glad for his gift of resurrection.

  There was something else about that day and the feeling Milly had before the accident, her being with him now causing it to once again burn into her memory, something in that moment making her wonder if it had not been a fluke at all. Perhaps it sounded mad, but Milly secretly felt that there was something thriving in the area, coated in pitch, and that it had gone so far as to insert the very breath back into her friend's lungs.

  Like it knew her dreams, her tears dropping on it like rain on parched soil.

  When Petey landed awkwardly and began rolling down the hill, he pitched the direction he walked at first, before bouncing a few times. This led to rolling, and rolling into to a scuttle for survival. After a bizarre turn sent him skidding, he careened to the right of his initial location, taking him far beyond the area Milly had anticipated searching, showing her places she would have otherwise ignored.

  There was something out there too, just beyond the chaos, lying forgotten and overgrown and almost undetectable. Almost, but not quite, as it called out to the unconscious.

  Petey eventually came to rest at the edge of an anomalous forest seemingly carved from stone, and that structure beyond, with patches of brick and an odd circular design protruding from a tangle of brambles, called out to her later. It had even begun to haunt her, spelling out a location that she only partially remembered while waking, knowing something
was out there but not knowing what, spellbound in a waking reverie. She had almost forgotten the reason why she had seen it, but the need to check, to explore, had stayed with her all this time.

  That was the reason Milly wanted Petey to walk the high weeds once more, exploring the enigmatic rock formation, possibly rediscovering the hill that framed the known world, but he seemed reluctant and made up excuses, annoying her somewhat. She had thought him made of sterner stuff.

  She asked him if he would change his mind and he told her he would not, that his parents would tan his hide if he went out there again.

  Milly touched her hand against his and looked deeply into his eyes. Goodbye, she told him. Goodbye and I remember the good times. Why can't you?

  She headed out on her own.