YELLOW STREAK
'I'm not going in there, Johnny, no way.' It's too dark. Christ I told you I don't like bats and snakes. Do what you want. I'm leaving. I'll be seeing you, maybe.' Johnny comes at me. 'Turn your ass around here, Daniel. You agreed to spelunk with me, didn't you?' That gets me. 'No, I did not agree, Pal. You threatened me, told me you were going to tell all of our friends that I'm a baby, a sissy, a ninny. You really painted an ugly picture of me. That was not what friends do to their friends.' Johnny looks sad, woebegone, comes at me with his fists flailing, stops on a dime and lowers his arms. He gets down on the stony ground and apologizes, begs me like a child wangling an ice cream cone from his Mommy.
I feel myself slipping by inches, ready to give in. All of the supplies are divided equally except Johnny gave me an extra large flashlight with ½ dozen new batteries and put his cell phone in my duffle bag. 'Johnny, I don't want your damn cell phone. What good would it do either of us? No signals can go in or out of this cave.' From his back pocket he hands me a net to put on over my helmet to keep the bats off my face. 'No thanks, Johnny, ' I say and toss the net on the ground. 'I'm staying here. I'll give you thirty minutes to go in and thirty to come out, then you will be on your own.' Johnny's Irish temper spurts up. 'You want to go, go. What I said about you being a baby, a sissy is true and I'm not taking it back.'
The noon sun is bright. Its rays penetrate a few feet inside the cave's opening. My determination to hold my ground evaporates when I see my friend about to disappear in the darkness. 'Johnny, let me get my stuff. Don't move a single inch.' He signals me with three toots on his whistle. Now I am committed. His flashlight beam is strong and lights a wide path for me to follow. The air is cold and rancid. Dampness creeps into my shoes, my mind. The atmosphere is foreboding. Johnny signals me look to the right. Previous spelunkers have left a heavy rope tied around a narrow, high rock. I take it willingly and move closer to Johnny. He's sitting on a stalagmite (or tite) looking at the ceiling (roof?) I look, too and damn near gag. Thousands, maybe millions, of bats are hanging down. They are ugly and still. 'Johnny' what if they take off all of a sudden and we are still here?' He makes fun of me and tells me, we will catch some for bat soup.
A gurgling, tinkling sound bothers me. It's definitely water but I don't see it until Johnny comes walking towards me, stepping on some rocks, missing many. His shoes are soaked, his pant legs rolled up to his knees. There is a cut on his left leg that is bleeding but not too hard. 'Johnny, lets get out of here,' I beg. We haven't gone far but still it is further than I relish going. I scream loudly and hear my echo. A human skeleton leans against a high rock. Johnny's laughter explodes. 'Donald, Donald, calm down.' He puts his arm around me and tells me a group of Boy Scouts put it there to do just what it was meant to do–scare me.
I put on a false bravado and walk forward a few steps, follow a small stream, see tadpoles swimming. My flashlight catches something shiny in the water but I don't intend putting my hand in there. 'Johnny, come here. What is this in the water?' He looks, looks again, puts his hand in and brings out a large gold colored coin. There is a face on it that we don't recognize. Even though the coin is shiny it still looks old. 'Let's get out of here, Donald. You are no fun at all.' Slowly we make our way to the safety rope, see a glimmer of sunshine and exit back into reality. I am so glad to be out, I don't notice what Johnny sees. He is pointing at what looks like a rusty mail box on a pole.
We walk up to it, see a hand made sign on its side,' 'Donation's to the BSA will be appreciated, including any fun gold coins you find.'I put ours in. Johnny adds a dollar bill and we both give up spelunking.
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