underbrush startled me.
Looking all around, I laughed at my nervousness. There were dozens of things that could rattle leaves in the woods. A mouse, a rabbit, a lizard, a deer. But Iâd see a deer if it were close.
I jogged a little. But when the trail started downhill, I ran. At the bottom was a fence. I turned right where the woods were thick and leafy again and the shade felt wonderful. It had been silly to run. I stopped, wiped my face, running my fingers through the short damp hairs that clung to my neck.
Rounding a bend I found civilization. There was a parking lot, several cars, and a big sign. Ozark Cave. Tourists Welcome . The building looked like a small store. I pulled open the heavy door and went inside. Post cards, snack foods, sodaâeverything for the tourist There were even those junky souvenirs you see in the vacation spots. Fake tom-toms, bows and arrows, banners with hillbillies, corn-cob pipes, whiskey jugs â things that furthered the image most people have of the hill people.
From a stairway on the right, some people appeared, giggling and laughing. Rick was the last in line. He smiled and waved his flashlight at me.
âBe with you in a minute.â He sold pop to two girls, who giggled every time they looked at him, and a tom-tom to a little boy. Then everyone left and I was the only tourist left.
âYou didnât tell me I had to buy a ticket and a tom-tom to get in.â
âComplimentary tour for pretty girls.â He turned a sign on the door so it read Closed and locked the front door.
âWhereâs your dad?â I asked. Rick had said he and his dad ran the business.
âWho knows? He was here when I went down. I told him I was closing for the day. He probably went home,â Rick finished.
âWhere do you live?â
âCabin out back.â
It was hard for me to imagine growing up here in the woods, so isolated. âHave you always lived here?â I was pretty sure he had.
âSince my mom left. I was about ten, I guess.â
âWho did you play with?â Maybe I was getting nosy, but I was very curious about Rick Biddleman.
âDeer. Skunks. Possums.â He grinned.
âNow youâre teasing me. Wasnât it lonely here?â
âI like to be alone. Thereâs lots to explore here. Bus took me to school. But it was usually boring. Not that I care, but whereâs Neal?â
âHe had an emergency.â
âSo weâre all alone?â His smile held a sort of arrogance. I didnât know whether to be uneasy or to think he was teasing me again. There was a wildness in him that I wasnât sure I trusted. He was the kind of guy Iâd have steered clear of in New York. Street smart, maybe a daredevil. Maybe it was that element of risk of being with him that appealed to me. Iâd always led a super-safe life. Iâd never considered it boring, but now I knew it was fairly uneventful.
âDo I need a chaperone?â I flirted with him.
âToo late if you do.â He headed for the stairway. âCome on. Youâre going to get cold, though. Get that shirt over there.â He pointed to a flannel shirt on the back of a chair beside the cash register. Rick had on a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled down.
The shirt I grabbed smelled of cigarette smoke and perspiration. It was probably Rickâs dadâs, but I was glad to have it when we reached the bottom of the few steps where it was twenty degrees cooler.
Rickâs flashlight spotted a switch, and he threw it on. A string of lights revealed a path into the cave.
âThere are limestone caves all over these mountains. This one isnât much, but the tourists donât know that unless theyâve already been over to Blanchard Springs before they stop here. This one opens up into a bigger cave, a wild cave, but thereâs no way to get city people into it. You have to crawl about fifty feet before it opens out
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