The Puddle

Four children and their bikes fall into the puddle, and ....

 

 

THE PUDDLE

 

In the rainy season the hollow filled with water. In summer it was a dust bowl, but whatever the weather the hollow was always there. It had been there as far back as anyone in the desert-like village had existed. There were some who said that it was a defect that the gods had made, so that people in the area realized that there were things in the whole world, over which man had no control, and the hollow was one of them. When people decided to asphalt the earthen highways it was assumed that the hollow would automatically become as one with the rest of the road. There was to be no such luck. As soon as the first rain fell the hollow gradually returned, and by the end of the rains it was once more part of the landscape. Time passed and the new authorities maintained insistence on filling in the hollow when they were in power. There was an official ordinance that all roads had to be levelled off. When motor cars became part of the society, there were to be no more stories of potholes in the roads. However, the hollow, or as it was eventually known as ‘the puddle’, proved to be stronger than any ideas of flattening out that local councils could think up.

The summers were long and dry and the hollow threw up a cloud of dust any time a vehicle accidentally drove into it. The road that contained it was in the countryside, yet it was famous for its being uncontrollable. Some said it was magical and others that it was a sheer nuisance. These differing opinions were of no importance, the hollow was still there after innumerable attempts to fill it in

 

A time came when nobody paid all that much attention to the hollow. Just about then there were more important things to think of. New houses were built and people went to live in the village who were ignorant of the hollow and those who lived near it thought it the responsibility of the town council to get it fixed. The children went to the local school but it never occurred to anyone to tell them about the hollow. The fact that there was a puddle in the village was not interesting enough for them to get excited about.

 

Four of the children were close friends, Chance, Annis, and two more boys Lane and Van. Not only did they go to the same school but were in the same class. All four had bicycles and were seen out on them in their leisure time. Chance loved cycling and hoped to be a professional one day. His friends went out with him sometimes, they went for fun, and he went seriously.

 

On one of his excursions out into the countryside he came home rather tired, and as it had been raining the water had more than filled the hollow and had created a very large puddle. Chance was not paying much attention and rode right into the puddle and had problems getting out. He got off his bicycle and standing in the mud pulled it out by holding the handlebars. The mud beneath his feet was the mushiest he had ever felt, and it made him feel unsettled. The ride home was unpleasant as he was wet and muddy, and the precious bicycle wheels had problems turning round with all the mud that clung to them. Chance’s mother was not that pleased at her son’s appearance, and said, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go out in such bad weather again. It’ll take me some time to get your clothes clean and meanwhile you’d better go and have a shower and put on your pyjamas and dressing-gown. It’s an early night for you.”

Chance was a good boy and obeyed his mother. He never mentioned the strange feeling of the mud under his feet.

 

Two days later his friends went to visit him, they  were all on their bicycles, and in spite of her misgivings Chance’s mother allowed him to go out cycling, with a word of warning ringing in his ears, “Just avoid riding into puddles.”

 

 “Where’s the puddle where you had an incident ?” asked Annis.

“It’s not far, but it won’t be a puddle as it hasn’t rained since then,” replied Chance.

“We’d like to see it,” Lane added.

“Yes, come on, let’s see the big puddle”, Van said.

In spite of himself and his mother’s warning, Chance agreed and the four friends went off in the direction of the hollow.

Annis, although the only girl of the group, was the most adventurous and wondered what they were going to find. Lane and Van were brothers, and wanted to see whether or not Chance had been exaggerating about the mud. Their mother never believed much of what they said, and so this time they had the idea of seeing, believing, and then telling her.

The puddle had gone, the hollow was now filled with wet mud. Chance, whether by intent or accident, rode into the sticky mess. The others followed and then they became aware of their mistake. They started to get sucked down into the mud. They had nothing to hold on to, their bicycles were snatched out of their hands as they fell. So the children sank down lower and lower. It was such a shock that none of them burst into tears, they accepted what was happening without any sense of surprise. They had gone out for the afternoon to look for adventure, and this had been found. The being swallowed down  sensation gave way to free falling into darkness. They landed on powdery earth. By the light of their torches, which they always carried in their rucksacks, they saw that they were in a cave and when they looked up to where they had come from they could not even see a speck of light.

“Where are we?” asked Annis.

“We’re as much in the dark as you are,” joked Lane.

Van laughed, “You couldn’t have put it better, brother.”

“Now, come on you two, we have to think this out. Somehow or other we have to get out of here or let our families know where we are. Meanwhile let’s see what there is down here,” Chance said, standing up.

“There’s an opening over there, let’s see what comes after it,” Annis suggested.

The opening was a darker hole than the one they were already in. They passed through it into a cave with a high ceiling. The second cave was as empty as the first one, so they found an exit into another cave and so on.

“We’ve been through six caves and we’re still no nearer getting out or getting anywhere,” Lane declared.

“Don’t despair, there’s another exit over there. Come on, let’s go and see what it leads to,” said Chance.

“Stop! I can hear water,” Annis told them.

They stood still and heard the sound of a waterfall.

The four moved forward and went through what was to be the last underground entrance on their journey. They were in a large cave and there was a waterfall that fed a small river in the distance. There was light coming from an opening in the ceiling which lit up the interior and they were able to see the red rocks and the remains of old cooking utensils. The water was apt for drinking, and they did so. They didn’t speak, it was as if they understood each other without words. Eventually they lay down on the floor of the cave and fell asleep. Their last thought was to leave that place as soon as possible.

 

During the following days they were semi-drowsy, whether from tiredness or lack of oxygen they didn’t know or care.

They were not alone in the cave, shadowy people looked after them. The children only wanted to get out.

 

One day, as if by mutual accord, they all walked up to where they  thought the waterfall had been, to find that there was no water any more. Rock by rock. like readymade steps, they climbed up and out of the caves into the blinding sunlight, staggering a few steps, and collapsed.

 

The children were found by a group of farm workers when on their way to the fields. There was no way of knowing how they had come to be in that place. The area was a desert of red sand and rocks. The children were lying semi-conscious in the open air. The road was just red dust as was everything else, what would later become an asphalted highway was still in the future. A helicopter ambulance came for the children and took them to hospital.

That night on the television and radio, news of their survival was announced. Their parents flew out to see them. All the children were in coma. Nobody was able to understand how they could have travelled so far. They had been missing for a whole moon, that is twenty eight days. Apart from being a lot thinner, they had suffered no ill effects. It was a puzzle to everyone who was waiting for them to regain consciousness, how they had survived. One by one they came out of the coma, but not one of them had anything to say. The psychiatrist who attended them said that whatever had happened down there the children would never remember. They had suffered too many shocks which would affect them for the rest of their lives. The children’s parents wondered what was going on in their child’s head, when they caught them gazing into space. A part of each child was a deep secret to everyone even to their nearest and dearest.

 

As time passed and the incident was no longer news, the hollow was filled in despite it being the entrance to the caves. The archaeologists wanted the entire road to be opened up for a dig, but the authorities were adamant in their refusal to comply.

 

Annis had always been considered a good painter and as she grew older and moved away from the village to enter the world of the artist, she forgot all about her strange experience in the seven caves. None of the four children had stayed past schooldays in the village. Why, they didn’t know, but they all moved away in turn. They never corresponded, even at Christmas. What had happened to them in their childhood was not carried into their adulthood. They dedicated, the rest of their lives to moving forward. Annis taught painting and decorative art in a high school. She dedicated her life to her work.

 

One evening when she was alone in her apartment, an image came into her head. The next day she got out a new canvas and began painting. It was all automatic. There was no thought behind what she was doing, she simply painted the vision in her head. There was no stopping for food or drink. When the painting was finished, Annis stood back and gazed at what she had done. She saw a dark cave and the figures of four children holding torches in the dark. Suddenly, she was full of energy and began painting as she had never done before. After seven days she had seven paintings telling the story of herself and the boys. What they had never spoken of to anyone. Why not? Because the adventure had been theirs. There had been an ancient man amongst the other inhabitants of the cave, who had told them they would never remember what they had seen.

 

At the next exhibition, Annis’s paintings caused great curiosity and everyone asked her where she had got her ideas from: the caves, the colours of the rocks, and the sky at night with stars, and in the day with a burning sun, and cacti, and who those people were. Annis said, “It’s my imagination, that’s all.”

 

Her ex-companions in the caves each rang her in turn, thanking her for opening up their memories. Of course, none of them would ever say whether or not the paintings were from real life or imagination. That was their secret. And the cave dwellers? What happened to them?

 

The puddle is still there with a notice beside it:

 

BEWARE OF THE PUDDLE.

YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT IT MAY LEAD TO