The Shaft

Look out for the new people...

 

"Won't it be dirty in there?" whined Sandra Mason. "I hate to play where it's too dirty. It makes my sinuses run and my clothes get so nasty."

"It'll be fun, Sandra. Wait until you see how I've fixed it up! It's the best playhouse anybody ever had!" Janine was beginning to see why the other girl had no friends at school.

Being new, she had thought maybe Sharon Cupp and Danielle Picket were being foolish and mean when they talked about Sandra 'Whine' Mason. They had been walking home from school for over thirty minutes now and nothing Janine said was met with enthusiasm. Sandra found a problem with the simplest thing.

Told they would be on foot getting to Janine's house, Sandra's first response was, "But our books will be too heavy to carry all that way. Why can't your mom come for us in the car?"

"We only have one car and Dad has that one at work," Janine had told her, causing yet another spate of whining.

"I don't know if we can be friends if we have to walk all the time. I'm delicate. . .my mom says so."

Nearing the house, Janine was hoping to see her Dad outside. Maybe he'd take the other girl home. No such luck!

"Mom, I'm home. Sandra and I are going to play in the mine, okay?"

"Just be careful. You know Jim hasn't gotten the vertical mineshaft closed off yet. Promise you'll stay at this end." Charlotte Powers worried about letting her daughter play in the mine, but it was the one thing that really caught her interest when they moved to West Virginia.

"I promise, Mom. Can we take cookies for a snack?"

"Two each. Because I don't. . ."

"Don't want me to spoil my supper. I know," giggled Janine. Rolling her eyes in mock exasperation at Sandra, she added, "She says that every time I want a cookie."

"Sandra, wait on the porch, please. Janine, can I see you for a moment?"

Sandra's pale, pinched face looked as though she had been asked to make a great sacrifice instead of wait for her friend. "Yes, ma'am."

"What do you want, Mom?" Janine asked, reaching for the cookie jar. Feeling around inside, she checked the size of each homemade cookie to make sure she got the biggest ones.

"Are you alright? Can you play with Sandra? Maybe it's not such a good idea."

"Oh, Mommy, sweet Mommy, of course I can play with Sandra. The doctor said I'm as good as new, didn't he? I'm just fine." Janine pulled Charlotte down for a quick peck on her cheek before skipping out the door.

"Who's Jim?" asked Sandra.

"Oh, he's my new dad. He and my mom got married three weeks ago. I think he'll be a good dad when he gets used to it. Let's go see my playhouse!" Reluctantly Sandra followed her new friend.

"Ooooh, it's dark and spooky! I don't like it. Let's go play in your house instead."

"Sandra, could you please just try it? I know why none of the other girls like you. You're a pain!" Janine's voice was sharp and tactless.

Through trembling lips, Sandra answered. "I'm sorry, but I'm scared of the dark. Why do you want to play in a place like that anyway?"

"Silly, it won't be dark when we get inside. Come and look. There's a kerosene lamp here and Dad keeps a lighter hanging on the wall beside it." Clicking the butane stick lighter, Janine raised the glass chimney of the lamp and lit the wick. "We have these hanging all over the place down here. I think you'll like it when I get a few more lit."

"Maybe," sniffed Sandra. She stayed two steps behind the other girl through the whole lamp lighting procedure.

"See, it's not so bad!"

"I guess you're right, but where's the playhouse? All I see are these old railroad tracks and a broken wheelbarrow."

"Those aren't railroad tracks. The ore cars used to ride on them. In fact, Dad showed me an old one, but it's way back there," she pointed to the area where light faded into pitch black darkness. "Want to see it?"

"No, I want to see your playhouse." Sandra insisted.

"Well, I have three of them. That way when my friends come over, we can all have houses! Look in this room. This is my house." A table and four chairs filled one section of the room. A bright pink bean bag child's sofa was on the side nearest the door. A pink and yellow braided rug covered the dirt floor in front of the sofa. Janine's soft red curls bounced when she ran ahead of Sandra to the next room. "You can have one of the others. This one can be yours, or you can have the one across the tracks. What do you think?"

Sandra examined both places with a jaundiced eye. The choices given to her had none of the cheerful appeal of Janine's playhouse. A broken rocking chair and wobbly table in one and cardboard box furniture in the other left Sandra jealous of Janine's room. "I don't know. Well, maybe I'll take this one. No, it has dirt on the table. I'll take the other one. No, it's darker than this one. Why can't we both play in yours?"

Janine wanted to grab Sandra's long, limp ponytails and pull them! Why did she have to hate everything? "We can't pretend to visit each other if we live in the same house. We have to be neighbors. See?"

"I guess so, but I won't like it," grumbled the miserable girl.

"Who do you want to be?" asked Janine. "I'm a new bride, waiting for my new husband to come home." She sighed dreamily as she had seen her mother do when she saw Jim.

"I'll be your best friend. Can I be married, too?"

"Sure. What's your husband's name?"

Sandra was silent for several minutes. "My husband is Frank Howard. He's so handsome." Frank was the cutest boy in their school class. He was a ten-year-old heartthrob. "Who is your husband?"

"Brad Pitt!"

"He's not real. You've got to have somebody real. He's just on the movies, so he doesn't count," pouted Sandra.

"He is too real! If I want Brad Pitt to be my husband, then he's my husband," shouted Janine.

"Then I want Matt Damon! So there!"

"Fine! I don't care who you have as a husband. You're so whiny; you'll get a divorce anyway!"

"Won't either!" Sandra was in tears. "I want to go home. I'm going to call my mom."

Janine caught the girl's arm as she turned away. "I'm sorry. You won't get a divorce. You'll stay married forever and ever. I promise. Don't be mad. You can have any husband you want, okay?"

"Why did you choose Brad Pitt? I like him a lot."

"I got to visit him in his dressing room at one of his movies. My real Dad knew all kinds of movie people. Brad's so cute! I'm in love with him. It makes my heart hurt, I love him so much," sighed Janine, planting a dramatic hand over her pounding heart.

"I want Brad Pitt or I'll go home," said Sandra.

"What? Why? He's my husband."

"I want him to be my husband or I won't play!"

　

*************************

"Where's my other girl?" Jim asked, wrapping his arms around Charlotte and kissing her throat with teasing lips.

"Oh, she's down at the mine again. I wish you'd get the mineshaft repaired, honey. If she's going to insist on playing there, it would make me feel so much better."

"But I told her yesterday not to go back in until I had that wall put up. I'll run down and get her and then I have a big surprise for my ladies." Kissing his new wife on the lips, he left for the mine.

"Hi, Pumpkin! What are you doing down here? Didn't I tell you not to play here until I had the mineshaft closed off?" A puzzled look crossed his daughter's face before a sunny smile crossed her childish lips.

"Daddy!" Janine ran to Jim and hugged him tight when he picked her up. "I'm sorry, but it's such a neat place to play! I promise to stay away until you fix it. Will it be pretty soon?"

"Not for at least a week. Let's go to the house. I have some special news for you and your mom." Hand in hand, they walked up the hill.

"Where's Sandra, Janine?" Charlotte looked past her husband and daughter, expecting Sandra to be right behind them.

"Oh, she got mad and went home."

"I thought she wanted to spend the night. Was she alright, I mean, aside from being angry?" Janine nodded. "Maybe I should call her mother. But first, Jim, what's the big surprise?"

"Well, ladies, pack your bags. We have just enough time to pack one bag each and get to the airport. We're headed for a vacation week in Florida! And, it's at the company's expense, because your husband and your father," he said nodding at Janine, "won the six month's sales contest! In fact, we're going on Jerry Raymond's private plane! So, get packing!"

"What about Janine's school? What about supper? What about. . .?"

Jim interrupted his wife. "I called the school. Janine's out for next week at my request. Supper will hold if you put it in the freezer, and we're going to be late if you don't get moving!"

Within an hour, their Buick Roadmaster was packed with luggage and passengers as it pulled out of the driveway and headed for the airport. In the excitement, calling Sandra's mother was forgotten.

********************************

She woke with her head throbbing. She must have hit it when she was pushed down the hole. Reaching out, she felt a wooden board secured to the shaft wall. Further examination with her fingers, found broken ladder rungs as high as she could reach standing on tiptoe.

"Janine! I'm sorry, Janine. Please let me out. I'm scared down here. Janine? JANNNIIINNNE!!! Where are you?"

********************************

"You certainly are quiet. Something wrong, Janine?" Charlotte brow furrowed with worry.

"Nothing's wrong, Mom. I'm tired. Dad, can I sleep in the back seats?"

"Sure, sweetheart. In fact, there's a bed behind that curtain. Why don't you take a nap and we'll be in Florida by the time you wake."

Janine's eyes were closed, but her mind was far from asleep. She replayed the last scene she'd had with Sandra.

"I want Brad Pitt, or I'll go home," threatened Sandra.

"You can't have him. I was the one he met and I'm the one he'll be married to. Go home. I don't care." Janine's defiant stance dared her friend to argue. Sandra didn't take the hint. It was just like the other time; just like that Melanie Rogers. She'd made the mistake of saying she loved Brad Pitt, too. Well, nobody was taking him away from Janine, not as long as she could stop them. She had to spend a whole year in that hospital after she hurt Melanie.

She really thought it would be different here, far away from the glitz of New York. Weren't the folks here supposed to know less about movie stars and such? And now, this, this whining, snotty, nasty girl was insisting SHE would be married to Brad.

Reality lost all meaning for Janine. To her, Brad Pitt was just as real as that Frank Howard Sandra had wanted as her husband at first. In her mental world, she and Brad were a pair, together for life and no one would interfere – EVER!

She grabbed Sandra's arm and pulled her toward the encroaching darkness of the tunnel ahead. The smaller girl struggled to pull away from the grasping, clawing fingers buried in her thin arm. Janine stopped, pulling Sandra toward her and with a fierce shove, sending her sprawling onto the mine track. Grabbing the handle off a broken pick ax, Janine slammed it against the side of Sandra's head, knocking her unconscious.

It had taken every bit of strength she had to drag the limp body to the vertical shaft. She pushed it over the edge and smiled at the satisfactory thump it made when landing. Climbing down the ladder, she broke the weakened wooden rungs, starting with the ones at the bottom and working her way out of the shaft.

Happy to have peace and quiet and her beloved Brad Pitt all to herself again, Janine returned to her playhouse to carry on as the movie star's wife. She had been so wrapped up in the pretend world, Jim's voice had startled her. For a brief moment, she thought he was Brad. They looked an awful lot alike. Now wouldn't that be something - if Mom was trying to take Brad away from her?

She smiled and drifted into sleep.

 

　

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Any suggestions for strengthening this story would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.