fingers through it, and then he kissed her hair, kissed that long thick rope, but he did not kiss her face. “The ones who fell,” said Jethro, “put a curse on the cave.”
A chill of horrified excitement flashed down Nicoletta’s spine. She had never heard a human being utter those words. A curse be upon you.
“What was the curse?” She whispered because he did. Their voices were hissing and lightweight, like falling snow.
“Whoever entered that cave,” said Jethro, “would be forever abandoned by the world. Just as they had been.”
Was he one of them? Ancient as earth? But the boy she knew from Art was her age. A breathing, speaking boy with thick, dark hair and hidden eyes.
“And did Indians fall in?” she asked.
“The Indians always had a sense of the earth and its mysteries. They knew better than to go near the cave.”
He seemed to stop. He seemed to have nothing more to say. She asked no questions. The moon slid across the black, black sky. “Then,” said Jethro, “white men came again to these shores. To farm and hunt and eventually to explore.” Now he was speaking with difficulty, and the accents of his voice were lifting and strange. “My father and I,” he said, “found the cave. So beautiful! I had never seen anything beautiful. We did not have a beautiful life. We did not have beautiful possessions. So I stayed in the outer chambers, touching the smooth rock. Staring at the light patterns on the brimstone. Dazzled,” he said. “I was dazzled. But my father …”
How softly, how caressingly, he spoke the word father. A shaft of moonlight fell upon the monstrous shape of him and she could see the boy inside the rock. His eyes might have been carved from a vein of gold. He smiled at her, the sculpture of his face shifting as if it lived. It was a smile of ineffable sadness.
“My father went on in.”
She turned to look at him.
“My father fell, of course. He fell among the abandoned, and they kept him.”
He stopped. The warmth of the great rock dissipated. It was cold. She waited for Jethro to descend through the centuries and return to her.
“I didn’t leave the cave. If I had run back out … things would have been different. But I loved my father,” he said. His voice broke, “I offered myself in exchange. I told the spirits at the bottom of the cave that they could have me if they would give up my father. They were willing. My father was willing. He said he would come back for me. He emerged at the same moment that I fell into the cave on purpose.”
Jethro paused for a long time. “I try to remember that,” he told Nicoletta. “I try to remember that I stepped off the edge because I wanted to.”
“Were you hurt?”
He smiled again, his sadness so great that Nicoletta wept when he did not. “I broke no bones,” he said finally. He said it as if something else had broken.
“What did your father do? He must have run back to the house and the town and gotten everybody to brings ropes and ladders.”
Jethro’s smile was not normal. “There was a curse on the cave,” he said. “I told you that.” His words seemed trapped by the frost. They hung in front of his lips, crystallized in the air.
She had been listening to the story without listening. It was a problem for her in school, too. She heard but did not keep the teachers’ words. She moved her mind backward, to retrieve Jethro’s speech. “Whoever entered,” she repeated slowly, “would be forever abandoned by the world. Just as they had been.”
Jethro nodded.
The moon was hidden by a cloud.
Jethro put a hand gently over her eyes. “Don’t move,” he said softly. “Don’t look again.”
His hand was heavy. Stonelike. “Your father?” she said. “Abandoned you?”
“He walked away. He walked out of the cave and into the daylight. He never came back. Nobody ever came back. I called and called. Day after day I called. He was my father! He loved me. I know he did. Even though there was
A chill of horrified excitement flashed down Nicoletta’s spine. She had never heard a human being utter those words. A curse be upon you.
“What was the curse?” She whispered because he did. Their voices were hissing and lightweight, like falling snow.
“Whoever entered that cave,” said Jethro, “would be forever abandoned by the world. Just as they had been.”
Was he one of them? Ancient as earth? But the boy she knew from Art was her age. A breathing, speaking boy with thick, dark hair and hidden eyes.
“And did Indians fall in?” she asked.
“The Indians always had a sense of the earth and its mysteries. They knew better than to go near the cave.”
He seemed to stop. He seemed to have nothing more to say. She asked no questions. The moon slid across the black, black sky. “Then,” said Jethro, “white men came again to these shores. To farm and hunt and eventually to explore.” Now he was speaking with difficulty, and the accents of his voice were lifting and strange. “My father and I,” he said, “found the cave. So beautiful! I had never seen anything beautiful. We did not have a beautiful life. We did not have beautiful possessions. So I stayed in the outer chambers, touching the smooth rock. Staring at the light patterns on the brimstone. Dazzled,” he said. “I was dazzled. But my father …”
How softly, how caressingly, he spoke the word father. A shaft of moonlight fell upon the monstrous shape of him and she could see the boy inside the rock. His eyes might have been carved from a vein of gold. He smiled at her, the sculpture of his face shifting as if it lived. It was a smile of ineffable sadness.
“My father went on in.”
She turned to look at him.
“My father fell, of course. He fell among the abandoned, and they kept him.”
He stopped. The warmth of the great rock dissipated. It was cold. She waited for Jethro to descend through the centuries and return to her.
“I didn’t leave the cave. If I had run back out … things would have been different. But I loved my father,” he said. His voice broke, “I offered myself in exchange. I told the spirits at the bottom of the cave that they could have me if they would give up my father. They were willing. My father was willing. He said he would come back for me. He emerged at the same moment that I fell into the cave on purpose.”
Jethro paused for a long time. “I try to remember that,” he told Nicoletta. “I try to remember that I stepped off the edge because I wanted to.”
“Were you hurt?”
He smiled again, his sadness so great that Nicoletta wept when he did not. “I broke no bones,” he said finally. He said it as if something else had broken.
“What did your father do? He must have run back to the house and the town and gotten everybody to brings ropes and ladders.”
Jethro’s smile was not normal. “There was a curse on the cave,” he said. “I told you that.” His words seemed trapped by the frost. They hung in front of his lips, crystallized in the air.
She had been listening to the story without listening. It was a problem for her in school, too. She heard but did not keep the teachers’ words. She moved her mind backward, to retrieve Jethro’s speech. “Whoever entered,” she repeated slowly, “would be forever abandoned by the world. Just as they had been.”
Jethro nodded.
The moon was hidden by a cloud.
Jethro put a hand gently over her eyes. “Don’t move,” he said softly. “Don’t look again.”
His hand was heavy. Stonelike. “Your father?” she said. “Abandoned you?”
“He walked away. He walked out of the cave and into the daylight. He never came back. Nobody ever came back. I called and called. Day after day I called. He was my father! He loved me. I know he did. Even though there was
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