“Why do I always manage to do this to myself!” Hobart muttered under his breath!
“You guys are monkey vomit!” He yelled at the top of his lungs! As he listened to the laughter and giggling and the sound of Ben and Brock’s footsteps thump thump thumping away.
He felt around the room for a light or door handle or something…
After an hour or so he was no longer angry with Ben, and not even Brock, the ole… well, not even him!
He was no longer afraid.
He’d found himself accepting his fate! He felt the cold wall beside him, leaned against it, and slid down its smooth surface to come to rest there on the gravel and dirt floor. 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 pockets, and there in the one on his left pant leg! Yes! He pulled the flap and the sweet sound of the Velcro yielded like an OPEN SESAME! That’s what Ali Babba said to open the mouth of the Cave!
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 “Mission Impossible” theme song started up in his head, and he hummed along with it!
His eyes quickly accustomed themselves to the light, and he shone the beam into the darkness. Just across from him he saw the pile of wooden crates he’d tripped over while feeling around in the dark! There beneath them, he could now see a small opening at the base of the wall… he never even 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 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, weather worn grey walls of the once upon a time bright 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 looked up or even noticed him. They were distracted: focused on getting the door open!
“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 & CLUNKED! And Mr. Marchenko was right behind Ben as he raced in to see if his old friend was ok! But he 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” they’d need to see with.
“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 a little closer in the excitement and confusion.
All three said “WHAAHAHA!” as they turned to see Hobart standing 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 that thought out loud! Ben whipped past them all, grabbed a hold of his buddy in a giant bear hug, and lifted him off the ground!
Hobart laughed first, then Ben, soon 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!
Turning to Ben, Mr Marchenko said, “…tell us again just why you didn’t reassured him?”
Ben looked sheepish. And turning his eyes from their gaze, he began to tell them. He and Brock had run away, afraid for their own hide sake at the licking date of gotten from Hobart when he sprung himself!
Hobart, now much calmer, said “yeah! I was gonna clobber both y’all! All I heard was running and laughing, and then nothing but birdies!“
The rest is history!
It’s now their clubhouse!
Mrs. Oretaky, returning from the house with a pile of cookies, was just a few steps ahead of her husband, Marvin Oretaky, who was carrying a pitcher of freshly squeezed milk from ole Betsy the family cow, and a few plastic cups.
Running Down Vimy 