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The Digging
Hole
So
what if it is an old house, thought Ernie, as he rounded the fence at
the edge of the school playground. His friend Jason had been bugging
him all day about living in a creaky old house, saying that it was way
out of style and not as nice as all the other houses in town. Ernie
didn't like to be teased anyway and to have your best friend say you
lived in a cruddy house made him a little mad. He walked along kicking
a large chestnut out in front of him and thinking about his old house.
Jason was right about it being old, Ernie's dad had told him that it
was built sometime in the 1890's. Jason was also right about it being
creaky, but that just meant that no one could sneak up on you even in
the dark. Out of style --- maybe it was and maybe it wasn't. Anyway
Jason didn't know the difference between style and a floppy eared mutt
dog. About his house being as nice as any of the other houses in town,
Ernie felt that his big old house was maybe nicer than most and for
sure nicer than that ticky-tacky, half plastic house that Jason lived
in near the school. And besides, at least his old house didn't look
like all the other houses on the block like Jason's did.
Well that pretty
much settled it, Ernie felt better about his house and he really didn't
care what anyone said about it. He wasn't even mad at Jason anymore.
Ernie turned the corner in front of Jason's new pink house and gave the
chestnut a hard kick that sent it bouncing wildly out of control up
into Mrs. Wilson's immaculate flower garden. Ernie smiled and thought
how glad he was that it was just a chestnut and not his favorite ball
or something else of real value, because once anything hits Mrs.
Wilson's yard you better leave it there if you know what's good for
you, boy could she get on a guy for dumb stuff like just mashing one
flower or something. Only just last week Jason and he had cut across
her back yard on their way over to his house and she came running out
of her house yelling something about how they had better not step on
her begonias.
"Hi Ernie"
called a voice. Ernie looked around but didn't see a thing. Then he
heard a muffled giggle and a rustle of leaves. He looked up just in
time to see Jason coming right down at him from a large oak tree that
grew at the edge of Mrs. Wilson's driveway. Thump! Jason landed half on
top of Ernie and they both hit the ground rolling and wrestling and
laughing. Ernie's books had scattered half in the driveway and half in
Mrs. Wilson's ever precious garden. In fact Ernie's math book had
landed right on top of her prize late blooming rose knocking off most
of the petals and bringing her quickly to the edge of her porch.
She could have
nearly woke the dead with the shriek of utter dissatisfaction at the
boy's latest stunt of unintentional vandalism. "What will you two think
of next." she wailed, "Why can't you just carry on your childish pranks
somewhere else."
The two of them
untangled and jumped up. "Lets get out of here" whispered Jason.
"Yeah," said
Ernie "Where's my books".
Jason picked up
a notebook and a library book from the driveway and Ernie quickly
grabbed his math book from amidst the small pile of rose petals, and
the two of them made a run for it on down the street toward Ernie's
house. "Sorry Mrs. Wilson" called Ernie as he fled the scene.
"That boy
doesn't know what sorry is." mumbled Mrs. Wilson as she stepped toward
her ailing rose bush. "Don't you two ever . . . " she started to call
after them as they disappeared around the corner at the end of the
block, but instead she stopped and returned her attention to the rose
bush and the deep foot print Ernie had made when he grabbed his book.
"Whew" said
Ernie as they made it to the safety of the trees at the edge of the
vacant lot. They half stood half hung on the lower branches panting and
laughing. "I wonder what she would do to us if she ever caught us?"
said Ernie, now only half laughing at the prospect of actually being
caught by Mrs. Wilson.
"In some ways we
are caught" Jason said "she always tells my mom and then I get yelled
at, at home, sometimes even by my dad. In fact this time will probably
be one of those because of the flower you broke . . ."
"I broke?" Ernie
interrupted abruptly "What do you mean? You jumped out of the tree on
me and knocked my books all over the place. It wasn't my fault her dumb
flower got all ruined.
"Yeah, I suppose
your right, but it doesn't really matter because my mom will probably
call your mom and you'll get yelled at too" Jason said with an ironic
smile.
Ernie kind of
laughed and admitted that it didn't matter how it happened. The flower
had been broken and they were both bound to be yelled at, it was just a
matter of when. "Boy what a bummer" said Ernie. "All this over just one
flower, a dumb flower."
"Ah, no big
deal" shrugged Jason, "I get yelled at all the time anyway"
"Yeah parents
must always have a sore throat from so much yelling" laughed Ernie as
he took his books from Jason. The vacant lot that they were standing in
was actually a steep hill with two or three lots partly full of trees
and weeds, but also right in the center was Mr. Hodges large vegetable
garden with a fine row of carrots right next to the many thick young
poplar trees that seemed to be there just for the kids to hide in.
Little did the boys know that Mr. Hodges had actually planted that row
of carrots just for them on their way home from school. He rarely
missed seeing them sneak not so carefully out from the cover of the
poplars to pull up a carrot or two. Today was no different, and he
chuckled to himself watching them through a small knot hole in the side
of his tool shed.
"Boy old man
Hodges sure knows how to grow carrots" said Ernie as they walked on
down the steep hill through the trees.
"Yeah he sure
does" agreed Jason," our carrots never taste this good."
"Ours either"
mumbled Ernie as they both crunched away on the sweet orange roots that
only moments ago had lain quietly in the cool ground.
The boys
meandered out of the trees and onto the narrow trail that led down the
hill to the hi-way below. They stopped at the edge of the road, looked
for cars, and each picked out a good rock to kick up Ernie's street
that ascended the hill across the hi-way. Jason kicked first, and his
rock flew nearly across the road and then bounced and rolled to where
Ernie's street started up steeply. "Good one" admitted Ernie as he
brought his leg way back and let go a whopper of a kick that sent his
rock way high and off coarse into the pasture across the hi-way.
Jason laughed
"It'll be fun trying to get it out of there. I'll beat you to the top
for sure now."
"Yeah," grumbled
Ernie as they crossed the road, "you have to wait for me to get over
the fence before you kick again."
"OK" said Jason
standing near his rock watching Ernie climb between the hog wire and
the first row of barbed wire that surrounded the field where Ernie's
two donkeys grazed and lurked sluggishly waiting for the boys to come
home with a carrot for them in trade for a ride up the hill. Today
however Ernie had eaten both carrots and when the donkeys realized that
there was to be no treat they whirled around and dashed off briskly.
"Sorry" Ernie
called out at them as they went, but they paid no attention to him and
kept right on running clear to the top of the hill. "There goes our
ride" Ernie yelled at Jason. "Go ahead and kick"
Jason wound up
and kicked his rock again straight up the steep gravel road leading to
Ernie's driveway at the top. Ernie gave his rock a kick as well, and
the boys worked their way slowly up the hill one kick at a time. Eight
or ten kicks latter the boys neared the top and Jason, somewhat ahead
of Ernie, aimed what he thought to be his last kick at the entrance to
the driveway. It was his last kick all right, but it didn't get to the
driveway. Instead the rock veered off and went right into big Blacky's
pen. Blacky was the big ram sheep that lived in the pen at the corner
of the driveway. Jason stood staring at his rock for a moment and then
said in a kind of whiny voice, "That's not fair, you have to go get my
rock out of there, he's your dumb sheep." Ernie laughed "I can take as
long as I want now. You'll never get that rock back, at least not
alive." Ernie laughed again and gave his rock another kick as big
Blacky wandered over to give Jason's rock a sniff, and possibly guard
against the remote chance that Jason may try to retrieve his rock.
"I quit" called
Jason "I'm tired of kicking that dumb rock anyway. Let's do something
else."
Ernie climbed
over the fence and out of the pasture. He and Jason walked along the
driveway toward the house. "You know what I said about your house being
dumb?" Jason started in.
"Yeah, so what"
mumbled Ernie.
"Well its kind
of neat actually." Jason continued, "Its sort of spooky looking
sometimes, like there might be old spirits or something hanging around.
Maybe up there by that little round window . . ."
"Hey yeah,"
interrupted Ernie "I gotta think up something to wear on Halloween.
Lets go up in the attic and look through some old junk."
"What's behind
that round window?" asked Jason. "What do you mean, What's behind it?"
"I mean where
does it go? Who's room is it?
"Oh I don't
know." answered Ernie, "Its just a window up in the attic. You can look
out of it in a minute. Its kind of neat like looking out of those
little port holes on a ship."
"Why's it
round?" asked Jason as they walked by the flower garden where Ernie's
mother was planting fall bulbs. "I don't know." he said to Jason as he
turned toward his mother, "Hi mom. How are you?"
"Oh!" she
exclaimed looking up "You boys startled me. You shouldn't sneak up on
your old mother like that."
"Heck mom your
not old." said Ernie, Can we go up in the attic and look at junk?"
"I'm not old
huh, well I sure feel like it sometimes." she said straightening up
with a sigh. "I suppose you can go up there. Don't leave the light on
when your done . . . and don't make a mess."
"OK mom, we just
want to look for Halloween stuff." said Ernie as he opened the front
door and they went in. "Your mom likes flowers too, just like Mrs.
Wilson." said Jason.
"Yeah" Ernie
scowled.
"So does my
mom." continued Jason "I think all moms do. I wonder why."
"Oh I don't
know," replied Ernie "I think its just part of being a mom. Its like
yelling, they all like to yell, and they all like flowers, and probably
a bunch of other stuff too."
"Yeah like
kissing, and baths, and combing our hair, and . . Hey look at that."
said Jason pointing at the cat, who sat crouched in the middle of the
rug with a small mouse sitting up on it's hind legs as if to defend
itself against it's captor. Ernie looked just in time to see the mouse
make a break for it, hoping maybe that their entrance might distract
the cat enough to get away. The mouse was wrong, and the cat must have
had enough of playing for the afternoon, because it had gone no more
than a few steps when the cat reached out with a quick paw pulling the
helpless little mouse right back to in front of him where he snatched
it up in his mouth and moments later put the poor tortured thing out of
it's misery with a little crunch. "Gross!" said Jason.
"Really!"
laughed Ernie as he walked toward the sliding door out onto the deck
"Good kitty Tabby. That's the way to get them." He met the cat at the
door and opening the door Tabby walked proudly out onto the deck. "Good
boy!" exclaimed Ernie once more as he shut the door and turned back
around to Jason. "Lets go up to the attic and you can look through the
little round window, the spirit window or whatever you called it."
They both
laughed and headed for the stairs. Ernie laid his books on the kitchen
table on the way by and in moments they were bumping each other and
giggling as they went up the stairs to where Ernie's room was. They hit
the top of the stairs and instead of turning right toward Ernie's room
they turned left and went toward Ernie's folks room. Just before they
got there they came to a smaller narrower door with a real old fancy
door knob. "This is it." said Ernie, opening the door a little and
peeking up the stairs. "Doesn't look like there are any ghosts waiting
to get us." he laughed throwing the door open and offering for Jason to
go up first. Jason gave him a funny look and Ernie laughed again
starting up the stairs.
The stairs were
steep and creaky under their feet as they went up holding onto the hand
rail. "I was right about your house being creaky though." said Jason
about half way up.
"Yeah I know,"
agreed Ernie "you can't even sneak up on a ghost."
"Who'd want
too?" said Jason stumbling a little as he thought about how silly it
was to even think about things like ghosts in his friend Ernie's attic.
Ernie realized,
as he reached the top of the stairs, that the only light was coming
from the little round window and that he had forgotten to turn on the
light. "Here Jason," Ernie said, giving Jason a push toward the window
"you go look out the window. I forgot to turn on the light." He turned
and disappeared down the stairs. Jason, who didn't like being left
alone in the near darkness, felt a sudden chill as he froze momentarily
between the window and the stairs.
Chapter Two
It seemed like a very long moment for Jason, frozen in the middle of
the cluttered attic. He felt as though he had time to completely
inventory the contents of the room even though he could only make out
the various items as soft dark shapes in the low light from the small
window. Suddenly the room lit up from three bare electric bulbs stuck
into the ceiling and seemingly held in place by thousands of cob webs.
The sudden burst of light seemed to release Jason from his paralysis,
and he continued on to the window, expecting some sort of magical
vision. Instead, he walked into a wall of spider webs that had been
carefully built in front of the window just for the purpose of clinging
to those that approached it.
"Oh ick" said
Jason backing up a bit and pulling hunks of cob web off his nose and
ears.
Ernie had made
it to the top of the stairs again and chuckled a little to see Jason
struggling with the web. "Sorry, I should have warned you about the
spider webs, they're everywhere."
"I found them."
said Jason "Where's the spider." "Oh, I don't know," answered Ernie "
you never see them . . until they jump on you."
"Sure" returned
Jason, making another attempt to get to the little round window. Upon
getting to the window, he noticed that he could barely see out of it at
all. Dust and age had combined to leave the window hazy and clouded.
Jason rubbed the window several times with the heel of his hand,
cleaning off his hand each time on his pants. Finally he could see out
well enough to make out the various trees and out buildings that
cluttered Ernie's yard. Still everything was distorted by the waviness
of the old glass.
"Boy, everything
really looks weird through this window." Jason remarked, thinking about
how he had imagined the window might be kind of magic.
"Yeah, my dad
says that glass is kind of like ice that doesn't melt until it gets to
around two thousand degrees or something. "Ernie said "And what makes
it look funny, is that it kind of slumps down from gravity all the time
pulling on it."
"How's he know?"
asked Jason, doubting Ernie.
"How would I
know?" Ernie came back "He just knows junk like that."
Jason continued
to look out the window for some time, imagining that he was a rich
merchant held captive by pirates. The wavy glass of the attic window
was easy to imagine as a port hole and the several out buildings in
Ernie's yard made a good fleet of the kings ships coming to rescue him.
he even thought that he could feel the swaying of the pirates ship in
what must of been a rough sea.
"Hey, look at
this." called Ernie, who had gone over to the far wall where a bunch of
old traps hung along with a wooden framework connected to wide leather
straps.
Jason glanced
over at Ernie and then back out the window. He was about to be rescued
by the kings personal war ship, and he couldn't be bothered by Ernie's
old back pack or even a bunch of old bear traps. They probably weren't
even real bear traps anyway. The more he tried to forget whatever Ernie
had said to him, the less clearly he could see the kings fleet, they
seemed to fade away until they turned back into old out buildings, and
the port hole splashed with water returned to the mundane attic window.
He turned to join Ernie and could see that the traps were clearly not
bear traps, but only coyote traps. "Your dad sure has a bunch of those
old traps" he said finally.
"Those were my
grand-pa's." said Ernie pointing at the wooden frame "I don't think my
dad ever did any trapping. Look at this."
"Yeah, its just
an old backpack" grunted Jason.
"I know that."
Ernie said quickly "Its actually a pack-frame, but its made of wood.
You don't see many wood pack-frames."
"That's true"
said Jason "it is kind of neat, lets see it." He took the frame off the
nail that it hung from. Dust fell from it as he handled it and several
cob webs stretched away from the wall, broke and fell toward Jason
clinging to his arm and leg. He blew a large cloud of dust from the
frame which hung in the air for some time and then slowly began to
settle on the many varied contents of the attic. "Wow, this is a neat
pack frame." he said "Its really light, and it feels good too." He put
his arms through the straps and snugged the frame on to his shoulders.
"Here let me try
it." Ernie said tugging at the frame. "I think that it used to be my
dads when he was in the Boy Scouts."
Jason slipped
off the light frame and handed it to Ernie, saying. "I think you should
use it, or else you can give it to me."
Ernie ignored
Jason's last remarks, but he put on the pack, cinched up the shoulder
straps to fit him and even snapped the waist strap. "Boy this does feel
good." he said "I'll bet it even feels better when you have a bunch of
junk tied to it."
While Ernie
stood there imagining himself climbing high in the Himalayas with this
new pack-frame, Jason looked around the dim, cluttered room. There was
a lot of furniture, chairs stacked together with their legs sticking up
in the air, and several tables piled with cardboard boxes. On the far
wall opposite the window was a long book shelf filled with old dusty
books of all sizes. There were three or four old trunks with leather
handles and big metal latches, boxes full and overflowing with fabric
and old clothes stacked up clear to the ceiling in one corner. Half
buried in a deep pile of old magazines that seemed to drip out of the
book shelf, was a large table lamp that looked like a real goose with a
lamp shade on it's head. There were so many things in the attic that
Jason had trouble looking at any one of them because there was always
something else catching him out of the corner of his eye.
Ernie had put
back the pack and was now examining the contents of a small wooden box
about the size of a cigar box. There was a handful of small pins.
Several of them Ernie recognized to be Boy Scout pins. Others looked as
if they were army pins or something. They were all dull and crusty.
"Wow, look at this one." he said holding out a large red and blue
ribbon with a round brass coin hanging from it. There was a rifle on
the coin along with the words "First Marksman". "This must be my dad's,
for good shooting. He's a real good shot."
"Oh ya" mumbled
Jason, "What's this?" he said taking what appeared to be a brass can,
about three inches in diameter and an inch or so high, from the box. He
twisted the top and bottom of the can in opposite directions and it
came apart in two pieces. "Wow" he said looking at the compass in his
hand.
"Hey I haven't
seen that for a long time." said Ernie "It used to be my grandfather's
surveyors compass."
"What's a
surveyor's compass?" asked Jason.
"Surveyors go
around measuring the land and making maps and stuff like that."
answered Ernie "Sometimes they take a place on a map and then find that
same exact spot on the earth. My grand-pa went around finding silver
mines and then figured out where to dig, and junk like that. A compass
helped him know where he was or something.
"I'll bet he
didn't find any silver mines." said Jason with disbelief.
"He did so."
assured Ernie "He found lots of them."
"Why aren't you
guys rich then if he found all that silver?" asked Jason.
"Oh I don't know
but he did find a bunch of mines somewhere up in Idaho. But anyway this
was his compass, and its a real good one. See how if you hold it up
like this - -" Ernie said taking the compass from Jason, holding it up,
and looking through two sights that flipped up from it's sides, and
then turning himself a quarter of the way around to the right. "See" he
began again, pointing toward the books "That red book there in the
middle is exactly south. You can sight in on any direction you want."
"Yeah that could
be handy I suppose." Jason remarked looking around the room again. His
eyes skipped from one item to another without hardly even registering
what he had looked at. Everything had a strangeness about it in the low
light of the attic. Some things were covered with old sheets to keep
the dust off, and they had an especially eerie quality to them Jason
thought as his eyes met with a very old looking baseball sitting along
with a baseball mitt on the corner of a large trunk across the room. He
walked directly over to the trunk and picked up both the mitt and ball
and threw the ball into the mitt several times. "I suppose that these
were Babe Ruth's or something like that." He finally said.
Ernie laughed a
little holding up his hands as if to catch the ball. "No" he said "they
were just my dad's from when he played baseball."
Jason threw the
ball across the attic to Ernie, saying. "I suppose your dad was some
kind of big time baseball player or something."
Ernie caught the
ball and threw it back to Jason. "I don't know" he said "I just
remember he played on Sundays sometimes a long time ago." Jason threw
the ball again a bit harder and it stung Ernie's bare hand. "Hey" he
said throwing back the ball "not so hard."
"What's the
matter, too hot for you?" laughed Jason throwing the ball harder yet.
This time the ball bounced off Ernie's hand, glanced off the chimney,
and hit the bookshelf knocking a small thin book out onto the floor,
where it fell open and several pages tore lose scattering out among the
magazines.
"Now you've done
it" cried Ernie shaking his hand from where the ball had bent back one
of his fingers, and walking over to where the book lay broken on the
floor. He picked up the lose pages along with the book and tried to
replace them in such a way that one couldn't tell they had ever come
out. He closed the book and walked over to where there was more light.
He looked closely at the edges of the book, but he could still see
where the pages had come out. He opened the book again to try once more
to straighten the lose pages. This time as he handled the old book he
could tell that it was written by hand and not only old, but it was
very old. The cover was made of leather that at one time was black, but
now seemed to be faded and stained to the point that only a little of
the original blackness remained. He could tell the pages were yellowed
and very brittle as he carefully turned them a few at a time. As
careful as he was, some small bits of the pages still flaked off
falling to the floor.
"Wow Jason this
is a really old book and it's written by hand with some kind of crude
ink pen." He held the book out to Jason who had come over to see the
damage he had done by throwing the ball so hard. Jason reached out to
take the book, but Ernie pulled it away and then held it out again, as
if to say "look, but don't touch". Jason put his hands behind him and
took another step forward. This time Ernie left the book in front of
him to see.
"Boy it sure is
old." agreed Jason "Who do you think wrote it? Maybe it was written by
someone famous and its worth a fortune or something."
Ernie laughed
and pulled the book back away from Jason trying to read some of the
words on the yellowed page. As Ernie slowly read in the old book, Jason
went over to the magazines, squatted down on the floor, and began to
thumb through one of them. Neither of the boys spoke for some time.
Jason was engrossed, looking at pictures of wild animals and natives in
the jungles of Malaya. Ernie had sat down under the dim light and had
started over at the beginning of the old book. There was no table of
contents, no forward or publishers note, there wasn't even a title. The
book just started with the date; May 3, 1873, and then went right on
with the writing. The author had used some kind of crude fountain pen
to write with, and what ever it was, it made a fairly wide line on the
vertical strokes and narrow lines when moved horizontally. Although the
writing was difficult to read, it was rather attractive as it flowed
gracefully across the pages.
"Hey listen to
this." said Ernie reading a description of several sentences from the
book. "What does that sound like to you?"
"Wow! That
sounds like he's describing the bolder in the river right below your
house." Jason said jumping up and coming over to look at the book as
well. "Wow what's the cave he's talking about?"
"I don't know."
replied Ernie "Its the first time he mentioned it. He couldn't be
talking about around here though because we don't have any caves, at
least that I have ever heard about."
"Yeah I know,
but listen to this." Jason read several more sentences aloud from the
book. "Doesn't that sound just like the little creek running down
through your pasture?" "Yeah really" agreed Ernie "and it runs into the
river right by the big dog head rock, just like it says here in the
book. He must be talking about my back yard."
"Sure he is"
said Jason reading further "and the cave must be somewhere right down
by the river. Yeah look at this. It says that the cave opened out from
the side of a water well used by some farmer around here."
"My mom says
this used to be a farm house in the old days." Ernie said excitedly
"I'll bet he's talking about the old well for this place, before they
started getting water from the city."
"But where could
it be? I've never seen anything like that around here." Jason said
walking over and looking out the little round window.
As Jason looked
out the window of the attic, his previous vision of pirates came back.
Once again he was the captive of these merciless rouges, and his only
chance was that the king and his navy could over power the pirates and
free him. While Jason dreamed of adventures, Ernie read on in the old
book. He was looking for some hint of where to find the old well that
must have been somewhere close. The book however said nothing more
about the well, it only spoke of how the tunnel took off from the side
of the well and went for a long way at a slight slope before turning
and then continuing straight for another long ways. Ernie read on for
sometime as the author described the inside of the tunnel, how it was
dark, and the rough walls had water dripping from them, and the spooky
sounds of his own foot steps echoing throughout as he walked cautiously
down the slight incline.
Suddenly Ernie
jumped up. "I know" he said "I know where the well is. Or at least I
think I do."
Jason's dream
ended like a light being turned off, and he looked at Ernie with an
expression of excitement. "Where?" he said "let's go see right now."
"OK" Ernie
replied "but we're going to have to dig some to find it. There's a
place down by the rock quarry where my dad says he thinks must have
been an old well. He has been filling it in with junk that he doesn't
know where else to dump, like the old burn pile full of melted aluminum
cans and glass and burnt up rusty nails and stuff." "Ick" said Jason
"That sounds like real fun to dig through if you ask me."
"Yeah I know,
but there isn't too much of it I don't think." Ernie continued "He only
dumped that kind of junk in there once or twice, and it seems like the
other stuff is just dirt and rocks. I think we can do it if we really
work, but it won't be easy."
"OK let's get
started." Jason said starting for the stairs. Ernie followed still
holding the book, and the two of them descended the steep stairway in
leaps and bounds. "Where are you going?" asked Jason as Ernie headed
for his room.
"I think I'll
put this book in my room for now. We can look at it later, but I don't
want to take it out with us now." Ernie answered "It might get ruined
or worse yet lost."
"Yeah good idea.
Lets go. I can hardly wait." Jason said full of excitement "I hope you
have two shovels, so we can both dig."
"We do." said
Ernie as he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs with Jason
right on his heels. The two of them went directly to the tool shed,
grabbed shovels, and cut down through the garden to the open field that
bordered the rock quarry. Ernie threw his shovel over the fence into
the pasture and crawled between the wires. Jason followed him without a
word. The pasture was very dry and offered little nourishment to the
half dozen sheep that wandered around in search of the few tufts of
bunch grass that poked up out of the fragile soil. Finally they came to
the other side of the pasture, crossed the fence and walked the several
yards to the depression that Ernie's father had thought was once a well.
"Is this it?"
asked Jason, walking around what seemed to him as nothing more than a
shallow dip in the ground. "Sure is" replied Ernie "Let's get started.
I can hardly wait to find the tunnel."
"I hope you know
what you're talking about." whined Jason "I don't want to dig to China
or anything, and that stuff looks like its more junk than dirt."
"It is for a
couple of feet at least, and then there's dirt." assured Ernie.
"A couple of
feet." Jason whined again "Gee, how far do you think it is to the
tunnel?"
"Oh I don't
know" said Ernie " Let's figure on a hundred feet or something, so we
don't get discouraged too soon. We might as well get started. We can
put the dirt over there." he said pointing to the far edge of the
depression. Jason groaned as they went to work. He knew that it was
going to be a difficult task. Shovels were not really the right tool at
least yet. There was barbed wire poking out in several places which had
to be pulled out first, and then an assortment of burnt rusty old hunks
of angle iron and other junk that made shoveling impossible. Finally
they could use their shovels and they began to dig, quickly at first,
but soon they slowed to a steady pace. They dug quietly for nearly an
hour, talking only now and then, saving their energy for the long job
ahead of them. Ernie thought of what he had said about digging a
hundred feet. He sure hoped that they came across the tunnel before
that. They had dug through the ashes and junk that his dad had put in
there and were now about a foot or so down into the dirt that had been
there for many years. The hole was nearly four feet in diameter and
almost four feet deep. It had solid rock walls that were straight up
and down.
"Boy we're
getting pretty deep." Jason said throwing a shovel full of dirt way up
and over the pile that was now beginning to look like a mountain.
"Yeah we sure
are." agreed Ernie stopping to take a rest "We're going to have to move
that pile of dirt a little or start putting it somewhere else. We also
had better go get a ladder before we get the hole so deep we can't get
out."
Jason laughed at
the thought and then looked around to see that they had already made a
hole that either one of them needed help to get out of. "You're right"
he said "you better go get one right now. I'll give you a boost up out
of here." He cupped his hands together and held them out for Ernie to
step in, which Ernie did and crawled out of the hole.
"By" called
Ernie with a grin. "See you sometime, if you ever get out."
"Hey you better
come back here with a ladder" Jason called as Ernie disappeared. He
wondered for a moment if Ernie might leave him there, and then went
back to digging. Shovel after shovel full of dirt was lifted from the
bottom of the hole and re deposited on the edge. As Jason dug, he
thought again of how he hoped that they were digging in the right
place. It wouldn't do at all to put this much work into the wrong spot
and then maybe even have to fill the hole back in again after they gave
up. That last thought gave him kind of a weak feeling in the knees, and
he quickly tried to think of something else. As he dug he banged his
shovel hard against the rock that formed the straight wall of the hole.
Stopping to rest, Jason leaned against the rock wall, and in doing so
he became more aware of it's significance. This nearly round solid rock
wall full of dirt was really a hole someone had dug in the past and
then filled in later. Now he and Ernie were digging it out again. Then
it really hit him. They were digging in an old well, right where they
wanted to be. He was for the first time excited about the whole thing,
the book, the story, tunnel, even the digging. The hole had meaning,
and his efforts had meaning. He felt good about digging and picking up
his shovel, he went back to pitching dirt up and out of the ever
deepening hole.
As Ernie
returned with the ladder he could see the growing pile of dirt and the
steady shovel fills of dirt flying up out of the hole. "Hi" he called
as he poked his head over the edge of the hole. "Here's the ladder. I'm
going to scuff the dirt pile down some so we don't have to throw the
dirt so far." He slid the ladder into the hole with Jason an went to
work on the pile. Once the dirt had been slid away from the hole, Ernie
went to the ladder and crawled down beside Jason. The ladder took up a
lot of space in the hole making it harder to dig. Finally Ernie dug two
little holes for the legs of the ladder right next to the edge and
stood it nearly straight up almost out of their way.
"Good thinking,"
said Jason "that gives us a lot more room. Hey! You know what I just
figured out?"
"What?" asked
Ernie.
"Look at the
walls. We're digging where someone else dug before, like a well. I
think your dad is right and we're in the right place."
"Your right,"
said Ernie "this hole does look like its been dug in before. Those
rocks must have been blasted out of here with dynamite or something."
He looked around at the straight rock walls. It was like being in a
small room with no door or ceiling. He could look up and see the sky,
but only the sky. They had dug the hole deep enough that with the pile
of dirt they had thrown out, they could no longer see over the edge. It
was like they had created their own private little world. Little was
right, thought Ernie as Jason, still digging, poked him in the leg with
the handle of a shovel.
"This is it."
said Ernie "I'm sure it is. This sure is a well all right, or at least
it sure looks like one." He went back to digging. It wasn't easy for
the two of them to both work in the small space offered by the four
foot ring of solid rock, but they managed fairly well and the dirt
flew, a shovel full at a time, up and out of the hole. They dug
steadily and quietly for most of another hour. Ernie couldn't help from
thinking about the book, and the tunnel, and where it led, if any
place. Maybe it was a gold mine or better yet a diamond mine, and they
would be very rich. He shuddered to think that there might be monsters
or aliens at the end of the tunnel, like in a movie he had seen on
television several days ago. He dismissed the idea of aliens and went
back to some kind of mine or maybe a treasure hidden there by pirates
or someone. Pirates seemed a bit out of the question, because they were
three hundred miles or more from the ocean, but maybe it was Indians or
outlaws. There were lots of those around a hundred years ago. That must
be it, he thought, its a hidden treasure. Digging was easy as he
thought about stacks of silver or gold ingots stacked up like bricks
clear to the ceiling of the tunnel. His imagination ran away with him.
He could see torches stuck into cracks in the wall, and the tunnel had
widened out to form a large room. On one side of the room were the
stacks of silver ingots. Some had fallen from the pile and lay on the
ground. In another spot there was a pile of old muskets leaning up
against the wall of the cave. There were trunks full of shiny coins,
and behind one of them was a skeleton, a human skeleton. Ernie shivered
as he thought of this, and he threw a shovel full of dirt clear to the
top of the pile.
"Boy this is
getting hard to do." Jason said heaving a shovel full up onto the side
of the pile, and having most of it slide back into the hole. "I think
that its time to scuff off the top of the pile again."
"Yeah I'll clime
out and do it." said Ernie.
"I'll help you."
Jason said following Ernie up the ladder. "I haven't been out of this
hole for nearly two hours." Just as he reached the top of the ladder,
Ernie heard his mother calling him to do the chores come in and wash up
for dinner.
"OK!" yelled
Ernie at the top of his voice. "Goll- did you have to yell right in my
ear" Jason whined rubbing his ear.
"Sorry." said
Ernie looking down into the hole they had dug. He was actually
surprised at how much progress they had made in the first day.
"Boy if its time
for dinner, I had better get home or I'll be grounded for a week."
Jason said turning to go. "Hey wait." Ernie said "We have to keep this
a complete secret. You can't tell anyone, I mean anyone. Promise you
won't."
"OK I promise."
Jason called back over his shoulder as he headed down over the hill to
the short cut home.
"Promise- - Not
a word." Ernie called after him again. "Yeah, Yeah" Jason grunted in
return "I'll see you tomorrow."
Ernie turned,
took one more look into the hole, and headed up through the pasture to
the house. It was past time to feed the sheep and they were already
standing over by the gate to be let back over to the barn. He unlatched
the gate and ran through leaving it open for the sheep to follow him.
They did and he had to run as fast as he could to keep from being
trampled. When he reached the barn he hopped over the short fence and
opened the gate to let the sheep into the small area where they were
fed their grain and spent the night. When they were all in, he closed
the gate and went into the barn to get their feed. He removed the lids
from the several barrels that they kept grain in and began to measure
out the different grains for the different animals. Oats for the
donkeys, wheat and corn for the sheep, a handful of anything thrown on
the floor for the chickens, and a very special mix of wheat corn and
molasses for the goat. He had to wait for the goat however, because he
couldn't feed her until his mother got there to milk her. Usually if
his mother wasn't there right when he did the rest of the chores, he
would close up all the grain barrels and the leave the goat loose in
the main barn to eat hay while he went to feed the geese. This was the
case tonight, and as he let the barn door swing shut behind him he
could see his mother coming out of the house.
"Hi mom." He
called to her "I have already brought the sheep over."
"Good boy" She
called back "don't forget to give the geese fresh water."
"OK" he called
as he headed for the goose pen with a bucket swinging in one hand and a
stout switch in the other. Without the switch it could be dangerous for
him to go into the goose pen. When both he and the geese were quite
young he had chased them around with a stick for some time before being
discovered and stopped. The geese have always remembered this incident
and they attack him any time he goes into their pen without a stick.
"And don't tease
the geese either." His mother called to him as he opened the gate into
their pen.
As Ernie turned
to shut the gate the bigger of the two ganders reached out and nipped
him behind the knee. "Ouch!" he yelped bringing his switch around and
landing it on the goose's neck. The gander squawked, let go of his leg
and backed up with it's wings spread way out. Ernie waved his stick at
the goose and walked over to where there food dish lay on the ground.
He poured the grain into the dish and stood back allowing the five
geese to crowd around the dish and wolf in big mouthfuls of grain.
"What pigs" he thought as he headed for the gate. He finished watering
the geese and went to the house.
"Hi pop" he said
as he opened the front door and set the feed bucket down where it lived
when not being used. "Hi buddy " called his father looking up from the
sink where he was cleaning the fish he had caught that afternoon. "How
was school? Mrs. Nelson called and said that you and Jason had been
terrorizing that pour old Mrs. Wilson again. Why can't you two just
stay completely away from her place." "But dad - - I didn't do
anything. Jason jumped on me from the tree - - and my books went into
her garden - - and then her dumb flower got broken and all - - . I was
just walking by on my way home from school and this all just sort of
happened. I didn't know Jason was going to jump on me or anything."
"That sounds
about normal." his father said "let's just not have any more incidents
with Mrs. Wilson, OK. You've had about three and I think that should be
enough. Maybe you had better walk home from school a different way. I
tried to get Mrs. Wilson to agree to have you rake her yard or
something for the damage you did to her flowers, but she is really
upset and she wouldn't allow you in her yard under any condition."
"OK, I'll stay
completely away from her place." said Ernie walking into the kitchen
and thinking how glad he was that he wouldn't have to rake her yard or
anything. "Wow you caught some big fish, and a bunch of them too."
"Yeah look at
this one." Ernie's dad held up a big ugly catfish from the sink. It was
longer than his arm and had whiskers nearly six inches long.
"Boy that is a
big one" said Ernie in amazement "That's the biggest one you've ever
caught. He went to the sink reaching out to touch the big fish.
"Uh" his dad
grunted letting the fish back down into the sink "I can't hold it up
any longer. I think its about fifteen pounds. He sure was fun to catch."
"I'll bet. What
were you fishing with?" asked Ernie. "I'd just caught a big sucker, so
I cut it into strips and was using a long strip of it." answered his
dad. "Did he fight? I'll bet he really fought." Ernie was still
reaching out trying to touch the big fish.
"Yeah he fought,
I didn't think I was going to get him at first." said his dad moving
the fish closer to Ernie and stepping out of the way so he could take a
good look at the it.
"Boy its really
slippery, and solid." said Ernie "Its like a big muscle with a head."
The catfish was big enough that it took up both halves of the kitchens
double sink and some of the counter. As Ernie stroked the large fish,
it gave one last flip, sending it up and out of the sink and onto the
floor, slapping Ernie in the face with it's tail on the way down.
"Wow!" Ernie jumped back wiping the fish slime off with his sleeve.
"That thing's still alive!"
The fish lay
motionless on the floor. "No. That was just a reflex, probably from
your touching it. The fish is dead all right." said his father as he
bent over to pick it up. "You're lucky that it hit you with it's tail
and not one of it's spines." he continued holding the fish out to Ernie
and pointing to two large sharp spikes that stuck out straight from
each side of the fishes body and one more that stuck out of the top.
"If you get poked by one of those, you'll sure know it. They have some
kind of poison in them that makes it hurt a lot worse than just the
poke, and I've never been stuck by one that didn't get all infected no
matter what I did." He set the fish carefully back into the sink and
continued to clean the smaller one he had been working on when Ernie
came in.
"Can I skip
getting fire wood tonight?" Ernie asked "I have a bunch of home work,
and there is lots of wood out there for both stoves."
"I suppose it
would be OK, as long as there is plenty out there," his dad replied
"but don't get in the habit of putting off your wood hauling chores.
Ernie's family
burned wood to cook all their meals as well as to heat their house, and
it was Ernie's job to bring all the wood from the wood pile to the
house. Here he would re stack it next to the door, heater wood in one
stack, and kitchen wood in another. Of all his chores, he disliked
hauling wood the most. There was something about it that he just hated,
even though he could never put it into words, or at least not to his
father's satisfaction.
Ernie grabbed
his books from the table and headed up the stairs to his room. He
walked in, closed the door, threw his books onto his cluttered desk,
and jumped high in the air, landing on his well made bed. That was
another of his chores, making his bed. In fact, making his bed might be
even worse than hauling wood, he thought looking out the window. His
bedroom window looked out toward the South. He could see the sheep
pasture and beyond he could see the small river that was nearly dried
up as usual this late in the season. It was the first week of October,
and the trees that grew on the edge of the river had turned their
various fall colors which, when combined with the brilliant red-orange
of the sunset, gave a false sense of warmth to the chill that had come
with the setting of the sun. Ernie's mind wandered as he looked lazily
off across the country side. He had often sat and dreamed of being on
the mountain that loomed up in the distance. In fact, he had actually
been on the mountain quite a few times. It wouldn't be long he thought
before his family would be driving up there to go skiing. The thought
of speeding down the hill with his mother always yelling at him to slow
down, made him smile. His eyes moved from the mountain, surveyed the
rolling hills, and finally settled on the edge of the rock quarry,
where they had been digging.
Seeing the pile
of dirt made him think of the book they had found in the attic. He
jumped up off his bed and went to his desk. There it was sticking out
from under his math book. He carefully took it from the desk and
returned to the bed. This time he half lay down, leaning on his pillow,
and opening the book began to read where he had left off earlier. It
continued to describe the tunnel. The description was very detailed,
right down to the color of the rocks. The author mentioned several
sharp corners in the tunnel, as he turned one of them he could see a
light far off in the distance. Ernie was glued to the book. Not only
was the story exciting, but he was convinced that very soon he and
Jason would be seeing the same colored rocks, turning the same corners,
and seeing the same light in the distance of that very same tunnel. He
came to the end of the page and turned it. Nothing was written on the
back of it, and the next several pages had been torn out of the book.
He was horrified. He brought the book up closer to his eyes and looked
again. He counted the missing pages. There were six pages gone, and
they had definitely been torn out. He could see the part of the pages
that had been left in the book. One of them even had part of a letter
on it. He went on to where the writing started again, but he couldn't
read it. There was something different about it. The letters didn't
seem to make words, or at least words that he knew. In fact, some of
the letters didn't even look like anything he would call a letter. "It
must be some kind of foreign language." he thought turning the pages
looking for something he could read. He thumbed through the pages one
at a time for a while, then several at a time, stopping now and then to
check for words that he might be able to read. About half way through
the book he came to blank pages. He quickly thumbed the rest of the
pages, but found no more writing. Ernie slowly closed the book, not
knowing what to think. Why had who ever wrote it changed languages? Why
had six pages been ripped out? Had the author torn out the pages, or
had someone else found the book and removed them? There were a lot of
questions to be asked, but Ernie couldn't think of who to ask. He first
thought of finding someone that could read the strange language, but he
didn't want anyone to know about the well and the secret tunnel.
"Ernie!" his
mother called, "Its time for dinner. You better get your hands washed,
or we'll feed your dinner to the hogs."
He smiled to
himself, as he got up and headed for the bathroom, thinking that they
didn't have any hogs. He was back to thinking about the book when he
turned on the bathroom light and began washing his hands. He was so
busy wondering about the missing pages, that he had his hands
completely soaped up before he even thought about whether he could get
away without using the soap or not. "Soap's not so bad if you don't
think about it." he thought, as he scrubbed his hands together.
"Dinner's on!"
his mother called from down stairs. Ernie didn't say a word, but he
quickly rinsed and dried his hands and headed down the stairs.
"Did you turn
off the light?" called his dad from the kitchen.
Ernie stopped in
mid-step about a quarter of the way down. "How did he know I didn't
turn that off?" he thought heading back up for the light. When he
finally got to the kitchen, the table was set and both his mom and dad
were sitting down. His plate sat steaming in front of his empty chair.
They were having his favorite, pancakes and fish and hash browns and
eggs.
"Have you
figured out a new way home from school, one that doesn't include Mrs.
Wilson?" His dad said as he sat down to the table.
"No." Ernie
answered sounding tired. "She's to grumpy. I think she hopes we'll walk
on her yard so she can yell at us. And if we actually goof something
up, then she gets a chance to really yell."
"That doesn't
matter Ernie," his dad began "she can be as grumpy as she likes, and if
she doesn't want you boys in her yard then you stay out of her yard.
Its just like when you were little and you had to walk way out around
the cat, because you just couldn't help from tormenting him if you got
too close. Mrs. Wilson's just like the cat. If you can't walk by her
house without tormenting her, then you better stay completely away from
her."
"You know"
Ernie's mother said slowly "I'm not so sure that Mrs. Wilson isn't kind
of lonely. - - "
"No wonder,
she's so grumpy, who'd want to go visit her." Ernie interrupted.
"Yeah I know"
his mother continued "but some people have funny ways, and I think that
she's kind of shy. She seems real nice when I see her at the grocery
store, and I think that maybe the boys should try to make friends with
her instead of just annoying her."
"Goll mom don't
make us do anything dumb." Ernie whined through a mouthful of hash
browns. "I'd a lot rather go the long way home than try to make friends
with old Mrs. Wilson."
"Well I think it
would be good for both of you." his mother said softly.
Ernie groaned as
she said this. He knew that if they really decided that something was
good for a guy, then you were stuck with it. Besides, how could anyone
ever make friends with Mrs. Wilson. Ernie had never heard her talk in a
normal voice, he had only heard her yell. It just seemed like it would
be a waist of time. Time that could be spent digging for the tunnel in
the dry well. He had just started to imagine the light in the far
distance of the tunnel when his father spoke up bringing him back to
the problem at hand.
"I wonder if
your mom might be right about her being lonely, Mrs. Wilson I mean."
Maybe your right too Ernie,
she might just
lay for you boys to get into her yard so she can have someone to talk
to."
"Well why doesn't she talk then instead of yell?" Ernie asked "She has
never been nice to us either."
"Have you boys
ever given her a reason to be nice?" asked Ernie's mother. I mean have
you ever done anything besides bother her?"
"Well no," replied Ernie "I guess we haven't really done anything
except stuff that would make her mad. In fact sometimes we even do
things just to get her excited. "That does it." Ernie's dad broke in "I
think that something has got to be done to change the coarse of things
here. You guys tease Mrs. Wilson just to get her to yell at you, and
she's all the time waiting for you to step across the line so she can
yell at you. What we have here looks simple enough to me, she wants
your attention and you boys want to give it to her, and visa-versa."
"I agree." said
his mother smiling at his father in a way that always meant trouble for
Ernie. "I think if the boys were to do something nice for Mrs. Wilson
she would be nice in return."
"Huh!" grunted
Ernie "She doesn't know what nice is."
"I know," began
Ernie's father "remember that apple jelly we bought at the church
bazaar last year? Mrs. Wilson made that jelly. What do you think would
happen if the boys were to take her a box of those nice little crab
apples from out by the garden?"
"That might be a
good start." his mother agreed. "I think that its a terrible idea."
said Ernie "she probably wouldn't even take them. Can't we just stay
away from her?"
"No Ernie. I
think that your father has a good idea." To just stay away from Mrs.
Wilson wouldn't solve anything. She's a nice, lonely, old lady, and you
boys don't show enough respect for older people anyway, so I think that
a box of apples is in order for Mrs. Wilson.
"Goll mom I've
got lots of home work, and Jason and I just started a big project down
by the rock quarry, and its just not fair to make us work for Mrs.
Wilson. What are we, slaves or something?"
Both Ernie's
mother and father laughed at that, but didn't say a word and continued
to eat their dinner. Ernie didn't say anything either, he too eat
quietly for a while trying to think of a way to get out of picking
apples. Crab apples were even worse, he thought, it takes a million of
them to fill a box and he didn't have time for dumb stuff like that
anyway. Who cared whether old Mrs. Wilson liked you or not, it wasn't
going to be the end of the world or anything. Besides, he and Jason did
have something way more important than picking apples for some old
lady. He wondered if his dad might let them off the hook if he told him
about the tunnel and the book. Anybody could see that getting to the
tunnel was way more important than worrying about how Mrs. Wilson felt.
He knew however, that his dad wouldn't look at it that way, so he said
nothing.
Ernie cut open
his fried egg with his fork, allowing the yoke to pour out and surround
a piece of pancake. He poked at it several times with his fork,
scooting it around in the mixture of egg yoke and maple syrup. When it
appeared to be thoroughly saturated, he popped it into his mouth. His
folks had finished their dinner and were talking about the weather or
something else that didn't interest him. He easily slipped back into
his dreams about the book and the dry well.
Dinner was over,
his folks had left the room and Ernie was still sitting at the table in
the midst of his dream, when his mother returned to remind him that he
had homework to do before bed and that he had better get at it. "I
guess I'll go do my math now. I'll see you before bed." he called to
his dad in the other room as he picked up his plate and milk glass, and
set them on the edge of the sink. He headed through the parlor and up
the stairs to his room. He took the stairs slowly, almost pausing at
each one to think about another possibility for what could be at the
end of the tunnel. One thought he had was that there wasn't any end at
all. He found it hard to imagine something that just went on for ever.
It kind of didn't allow you to go on to something else so he decided
that it must go somewhere. He just couldn't settle on where the tunnel
could possibly go. He closed the door to his room, pulled back his
chair, and cleared away an area with his arm. He pulled up his chair,
sat down, and dug his math and note book out from the mess he had
shoved up on the left end of the built in desk, that took up half the
wall next to the door. The other half was a large set of shelves that
contained everything from books and teddy bears to wooden machine guns
and a little brass canon that actually fired. He thumbed through his
math book to chapter four and ran his hand hard over the center of the
book to help hold it open. He reread the description of long division
and looked at the many examples. He turned the page to the study
problems, opened his note book, and began to work them. It wasn't easy
to keep his mind on the problems, and he had to constantly jerk himself
away from thoughts of the tunnel.
The evening
seemed to take for ever, but before long Ernie's mom had come to the
foot of the stairs and called to him.
"Its getting
late Ernie, you had better wrap it up for the night." she said "how's
your studying going?"
"Kind of slow,"
he called back "but I only have two more problems to do and I'll be
done."
"OK you finish
them and get ready for bed." she returned "Are you coming down to say
good night."
"Sure, I'll be
down in a few minutes." he called back. His mother shut the door, and
Ernie went back to the last two division problems. He finished them
fairly quickly, closed his books, and set them out ready to take to
school the next day. Kicking off his shoes, he sat down on the edge of
the bed thinking of the tunnel and wondering how far he and Jason might
have to dig. He remembered that his grandfather had told him that when
had been a miner, that he had worked in a tunnel that was nearly two
miles under ground. He hoped that they didn't have to go that far. He
unbuttoned his shirt and pants, stood back up and took his pants off,
and threw them on the chair to his desk. Grabbing his pajamas from
under his pillow, he put them on, and headed for the bathroom to brush
his teeth. When he finally reached the living room, his mother was
sitting in her chair by the fire, finishing up a sock she had knit
earlier on her knitting machine. His father was over at his desk in the
far corner working on a new landscape painting. "Hi, I'm all ready for
bed." Ernie said he entered the room.
"Are you done
with your home work?" his mother asked
"Oh yeah," he
replied "it wasn't easy but I finally got them done. I haven't checked
them over yet, but I can do that tomorrow in study hall." He walked
over and looked at his father's painting. he had barely started and all
that he had colored was the sky. The rest was just a light pencil
drawing of some hills and a mountain with a small stream meandering
through the whole thing.
"What's going to
be funny with this one?" Ernie asked putting his hand on his father's
shoulder.
"Oh you'll see
when I get there." his father returned with a chuckle. "Headed for bed,
are you?" He set down his paint brush and leaned toward Ernie to give
him a kiss on the check.
Ernie received
his kiss, returned one, and headed toward his mother saying that he
hoped that it was a nice day tomorrow so he and Jason could work on
their project. He kind of wanted the subject of their digging out the
old well to come up, but he didn't really want to come right out and
mention it directly. Especially since they hadn't asked if they could
dig out all the fill that his father and others had put in there. His
father, however, did not respond to the remark so he let it go for the
time, kissed his mother and said good night to them both, and headed up
the stairs to bed.
Ernie was tired
from the digging he and Jason had done that afternoon, and he went
directly to bed. He took one more brief look at the book they had
found, hoping that maybe the strange language might change into English
or better yet that he could figure out how to read it the way it was.
Putting the book down on the bed side table and turning off the light,
Ernie lay back on his pillow and wondered what he should do to find out
what the rest of the book had to say. The more he thought about it the
more important it seemed to become. He could not get the thought of the
light, the book had mentioned at the end of the tunnel, out of his
mind. The book hadn't even said that it was the end of the tunnel, it
just mentioned a light, and then there was nothing. At least there was
nothing that he could make any sense out of. His mind drifted between
the words in the book and various fantasies that he constructed until
he finally fell asleep.
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