Polaroids of the Cave

There's always secrets to be found in a cave

            It was time to leave the cave; the other members of the group were already outside in the bright sun. Lucian looked at me impatiently. I could tell he wanted to leave the cave and go out in the sun with the rest of the group. It was dark in the cave but I could just barely see his eyes, scared and pleading. I told him not to worry, to just grab my hand, Daddy wanted to go back to the end of the cave, where the cave wall was oddly flat and smoothed out. Just one corner of the cave, where the wall was shaped like a door, with intricate scribbling’s from the ground up.

            Lucian squeezed my hand with a young strength, his cold little fingers keen on not separating from mine. He was only six, long thin legs, brown hair, one blue eye and one green eye. He was bored of the city, so I had decided to take him to the caves.

            Trailing the walls all the way to the back of the cave are little lanterns, vaguely lit, and spread about fifteen feet apart from one another. The ground below is rocky and uneven; Lucian would have fallen if he wasn’t gripping my hand. The end of the cave is coming up; I can see the guarding ropes that keep the tourists from continuing down the trail to the very flat wall.

            We stop at the ropes and I tell Lucian to stay where he is. Hold on to the ropes. Daddy will be right back. I tell him to say something if he sees anyone walking this way. I step over the rope and the ground immediately steeps down, I can feel the temperature drop, I’m sliding down the cascading trail, and then I’m at the flattened wall. I look back up to Lucian and I can see an outline of his small body holding onto the rope.

            There is one lantern posted into the cave wall and I take it down. I’ve been down here before, about five years ago, with two of my friends. We had heard about the cave, heard rumors that it was haunted. We found the end of the cave where the wall was perfectly flat, like a door. We took pictures of the writing on the wall with Polaroids. This was before it became a tourist attraction. Lucian makes a noise and I tell him Daddy will be right up.

            I kneel down in front of the wall and shine the lantern close to the etchings. They look different from the pictures, they look fresh. They look untouched by time. The photographs are in my pocket and I take them out and compare them to the wall. There are definitely letters scrambled in there, but not of any alphabet I’ve ever seen. Lucian makes another noise and I take out my camera and flash a few pictures and climb back up to the rope.

            Lucian says he has to pee and we leave the cave.

 

            At home I compare the pictures I took today with the pictures I took five years ago. They look different to me. The lighting and the angles are exactly the same when I compare them, but it’s what’s on the wall that changes. And I notice that there isn’t just foreign writing, there are drawings. Drawings I’ve never noticed in the old pictures, but now that I look at them I can clearly see drawings, sketches of people and what looks like buildings. In the new pictures I took there are only drawings, there is no writing. I laugh to myself at my desk. I laugh because I can’t understand why I never noticed them before. It was only the writing that I noticed.

 

            A couple days later I called Todd Lane. He was with us when we went down in the cave the first time. I asked him about the photos that we took. I asked him if he still had them.

            “Yeah, I still have them, but it’s weird that you ask about them. I was going through my closet yesterday, cleaning s**t out and what not. I have a file cabinet in my closet with a bunch of old papers, bills, personal information, photographs,” He pauses and I hear static breathe through the phone, and Lucian walks in the room. He has a blank expression on his face and he is just standing there. “Anyway, I came across those Polaroid’s that we took of that wall in the cave. You are talking about the door right?”

            I look away from Lucian’s stoic face and say, “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The cave wall that was flattened out perfectly, with the writing on it.”

            “Well that’s the thing. I found the folder labeled Athens Cave 1987. I opened it up and took the photos out. They were flipped upside down so couldn’t see the pictures at first. I took them out and they were all blank. Perfectly blank. There was no trace of any picture at all. They looked like they were never used. And that’s the weird part. I loaded the blanks in my Polaroid and tried them. They came out perfectly fine. I’m looking at them now. I took a picture of myself in the mirror.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “You think I do? I’m completely baffled.” Todd sighs and his static breath sounds in my ear. I look back at Lucian and he walks out of the room. “Why did you want to know about the pictures anyways?”

            “I went down to the cave a couple days ago. I took my son with me. We went there because I wanted to take some more pictures of the wall.”

            “Did you?”

            “Yeah. I did.”

            “Did they see you?”

            “What?”

            “Did the people who work there see you go down there?”

            “No, Lucian was standing watch.”

            “Did the pictures turn out?”

            “They did, but they look completely different from the old ones I took.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “In the original photographs there was writing, illegible writing. But now that I look at them there are drawings in them.”

            “Drawings?”

            “Yes, drawings.”

            “There were never any drawings. There was only writing.”

            “Todd, I’m looking at the pictures now. I can make out sketches of people and buildings.”

            “What about the new pictures you took? Is there any drawings in those?”

            “That’s all that’s in the pictures. Just drawings. There is no writing at all.”

            “I don’t understand, Jack.”

            “Todd, I’m comparing the new pictures with the old ones, and they are completely different from the each other.”

            “Are you sure you were in the right spot in the cave?”

            “Yes I’m sure. There is only one spot in that cave that is like that.”

            “Well I’ll be dammed.”

            I hear something loud in the other room, like something falling over.

            “Listen, Todd, I’ll call you back. I have to deal with Lucian.”

            “Alright. Call me back soon though. And give Peter a call. He probably still has his photographs.”

            “Good idea.”

            “See you later, Jack.”

            “Bye.”

            I set the phone down and walk downstairs. Lucian is sitting on the couch looking at the TV. His face is expressionless. From where I’m standing the TV is facing away from me and I can only hear white noise. Lucian looks at me with his blue and green eyes and starts to shake. His body is convulsing, arms flapping wildly, head swaying from side to side. His legs kick the coffee table and he knocks pillows on the ground. He starts to moan, vowels that sound like jumbled words. I run over to him and grab him, I pick him up, and he is still shaking. I hold him tight against my chest and whisper to him. Then he stops. His eyes are closed and he is motionless. I set him on the couch and lean over his face. I can feel his warm breath on my ear. I feel his heart. It’s beating normally. Perfectly normal.

            I look at Lucian on the couch and start to gently cry. I put my hand on my face and cry confused tears. I’m standing there crying, and then the television screams. It’s impossibly loud. I can feel my ear drums tickle violently. Lucian is still asleep, unbothered by the high pitched screams. I turn to face the television and it is blank, white. There is no fuzzy image, it is just white and it is screaming. I make my way to the TV with my hands over my ears and unplug it from the wall, but the scream continues.

            The television is getting louder and louder. I face the TV; the white screen is growing brighter. Brighter, lighter, whiter, it’s like looking into the sun. Then images start to surface, vague outlines of something, I can’t tell what. I’m wincing against the glare, and then the photographs from the cave wall are sketched on the screen. I can make out the writing, the sketches, it all looks undeniably familiar. It’s the same images on the wall in the photographs, but on the TV screen and I can make out exactly what they are. The images are perfectly clear. The writing is completely foreign, but I can read it. I know what it says. The pictures are familiar. The pictures are of home. No home I have ever seen in my life, but a different one. The screen is expanding, the light is swallowing me. The screams of the TV are so loud I can barely hear it.

            And then I’m gone.

Reviews

[Naraly Godinez]

Denying your past your thoughts what you experienced because of what you have presently in your future believing all the advice of those considered your friends only to realize eventually the past catches up to you and only you can make a decision based on your experiences .. Your thoughts without the influences of others is your home unlike you have ever experienced

[ZackOfBridge]

Did someone take a cosmic Polaroid picture of him? Interesting story Max, it was packed with energy towards the end and well written as always