“How did he talk me into this!” Hobart muttered under his breath! He felt around the room for a light or door handle or something !
After a few hours he was no longer angry with Ben. No longer afraid. He found himself accepting his fate! He felt the cold wall beside him, leaned against it, and slid down the smooth surface and was at rest there on the gravel and dirt. He reached out his hand to steady himself, and with his other he lightly pressed his finger and thumb into his tightly closed eye sockets not so much in an attempt to suppress the now steady stream of tears, but a means to calm his jangled nerves.
The thought “Here lies Gregory Hobart, the fool that was fooled one last time!” That should be written in marble, chiseled there to remembered for all time! If only he had a pen! Wait!
He had forgotten all about it!
He fumbled in his cargo pants pocket; the ones on his left pant leg! Yes! He pulled the flap and the sweet sound of the Velcro yielding like an OPEN SESAME!
(Hahahaha he’d always thought that’s what Ali Babba said as the magic words to open the mouth of the Cave!) wait, maybe that WAS what he said…
He pulled his LED bike light from the inner pocket, and pressed the button! The little room lit up so bright he found himself squinting!
The song, “Don’t Let The Old Man In” started up in his head, and he hummed along with it! Or was it that…
His eyes quickly accustomed themselves to light, and he shone the beam into the darkness. Just across from him he saw a small opening at the base of the wall… he never thought of that! He shuffled over to it, and pulled away the dirt, and was so glad he’d given up donuts! His slender frame slid easily under and along the little length of the mine shaft, just as he started to wonder if this was a false hope, he felt cool air blowing toward him, and the smell of the wild flowers next to Mr. Oretaky’s barn, then a shaft of light, and he continued and persisted and pulled himself up and out! Lept to his feet and spun around in a full 360°!
He was alone! But he could hear voices, they were kinda panicking! He edged back along the rough, and at the worn grey walls of the once upon a time Red Barn, and peeked around the corner! There was Ben! And Mr Marchinko! And oh my! Mr Hopper! They were jingling some keys, and trying each one in the rusty key hole that locked the hatch to the abandoned cellar Hobart had just freed himself from!
He crept up noiselessly over to where they were, and stood some little distance away. None of them looks up or even noticed!
“Come on Come ON!!!” Shouted Ben! “He’s gonna be running out of air soon!”
Mr Marchenko put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, in a gesture saying “it’ll be alright”
“Ah! Shut up kid! Let me concentrate here! He’s not gonna suffocate! It’s a cellar not Ali Babbas cave of the Arabian knights!”
Just then they all went quiet! The lock on the door clicked CLUNK! And Mr. Marchenko was right behind Ben as he raced in to see if his old friend was ok! But her was GONE!!!
The light from the door trailed in, dust and soot hung in the beams like angry flies, and the bright sunlight had temporarily deadened any “night vision”
“Hobart! Gregory Gustoff Hobart!” Mr Hopper shouted, in his commanding ‘you’re in big trouble Mr’ voice…
“Hey! What’s up boys!” Hobart said from just behind them, after having stepped closer in the excitement and confusion.
All three said “WHAAHAHA!” as they turned to see Hobart there, without a scratch, just outside the hatch!
“You got some ‘plainin to do you little…” Mr Hopper began, but Mr Marchenko’s hand on his arm checked him from completing his thought out loud! Ben whipped past them all, and grabbed a hold of his buddy in a giant bear hug! And lifted him off ten ground!
Hobart laughed and then Ben, and Mr Marchenko was chuckling with fervent relief! And finally even Mr Hopper cracked a grin.
Hobart told the story of how he, Brock Heubner and Ben had been exploring old Mr. Oretaky’s farm… once they’d cleared away the blackberry vines and collected dirt… they’d noticed a set of doors, propped open by some more of those same blackberry vines… Hobart had rushed into the cellar… and Brock had quickly slammed it shut! And laughed his head off!
The rest is history!
It’s now their clubhouse!
To be continued!
Running Down Vimy 