The Cave

Burnshoot Killslew got off the ferry from Duel Academy, returning from his graduation. He had auburn hair, long arms, and a pimply face. Standing outside his family's Victorian house, his bloodhound Dash was the first one to come out and greet him.

No one else was home. Burnshoot opened the door with his espigew, which was a tiny black device with a red button in the center and the number 5654-LGI engraved on it.

The house was not really from the nineteenth century; it merely had a Victorian façade. In reality, the house was machine-controlled, one of the first "intelligent" buildings designed by CEMA. If you wanted something, all you had to do was press buttons. There was a button for doing laundry, for baking chicken casseroles, for mopping floors, etc. Every menial task you could think of was the responsibility of the house, and Burnshoot's mother didn't have to do a thing.

The Killslews were one of the few privileged families to actually own one of these super-houses, the other three being the Kaibas, the Gates', and the Waltons. They were still expensive in 2020, having only been around since 2017.

Burnshoot had always known luxury and never had a care in the world. Or, at least he didn't until he met Beth Henley.

Beth was a gorgeous albeit intelligent blonde, who brought flavor to Burnshoot's life. He met her in his second year at Duel Academy. She was garrulous and loquacious, chatting at about a thousand miles an hour. This might've made Burnshoot dislike her, but it worked the other way around. He was enchanted.

He made a goddess out of her, and bought things for her. Everything Beth desired of Burnshoot, he charged for on his credit card. When his father saw the exorbitant bill at the end of the first month after the boy met Beth, he nearly blew his top.

"I WILL NOT HAVE YOU SPENDING COUNTLESS DOLLARS ON A MERE INFATUATION!" his father bellowed on the phone. "YOU HAD BETTER MARRY THIS GIRL, OR THERE WILL BE NO INHERITANCE!"

On the ensuing evening, Burnshoot, fearful for the prospective loss of his inheritance, proposed to Beth Henley.

"No, I'm sorry. I can't marry you," she told him. She did not look sorry at all, but patronizing.

He wrote a letter home, explaining the predicament. His father warned by return mail that if he ever set foot on his land again, he would be reported to the police and subsequently incarcerated.

Yet, here he was, home sweet home, the beautiful aroma of opulence filling his nostrils. Soon, this would all be the past; he would think of it as no more than a dream.

Burnshoot was going to become a spelunker, exploring commodious caves around the world. He loved nature and the mystery of caves; each one seemed to have its own story.

Chancellor Sheppard had advised him against spelunking at the Career Ahead meeting, saying that there was no future in it.

"Burnshoot, you're the eldest son of a multi-billionaire. How can you throw your life away by exploring caves? They're just full of bats, and stalagmites, and stalactites…"

"But each cavern or cave has its own aura, its own spirit," the boy argued. "They are dark and full of surprises. The bats make them eerie, but I'm in love with the eerie. In some I will encounter danger, perhaps even coming close to death, but that's okay, because the doctor says my adrenaline levels need a boost."

"I'm sure your adrenaline can work hard enough by studying for college entrance exams," Chancellor Sheppard retorted. "You need to further your education, as your father indicated with your career plan he sent us three years ago."

"That was his plan for me. I never wanted it. Besides, I don't think he cares anymore, seeing as I've been disinherited."

"May I say something?" Dr. Crowler interjected. He had been quiet up to now because he had stuffed a peppermint into to his mouth to keep from blurting out objections that could get him put on the Chancellor's bad list.

"Proceed."

"I believe that Burnshoot should've known better than to mess around with girls. They just get you into boiling water."

"I don't care what my father thinks about me or my affinity for the fair sex, Dr. Crowler. Spelunking has been my lifelong dream, and I'm going to pursue it."

Dr. Crowler pursed his lips, but went on anyway. "I think Mr. Killslew would also like to know that the reason Beth Henley could not marry him is that she is engaged to me."

Burnshoot growled, and rose from his seat. "You're twenty years her senior! She can't marry you!"

"On the contrary, she is a woman as recognized by Duel Academy, and she is free to do as she likes. The fact that she prefers a penniless schoolteacher over a wealthy, young man should tell you that she's in love with me."

The boy raised his fists, and was about to slam them down indignantly in Crowler's face when Chancellor Sheppard stepped between them.

"Dr. Crowler, you know better than to incite anger in students, especially during Career Ahead week. And, Burnshoot, I don't care how rich and powerful your father is; if you don't behave in a docile manner, I will have no choice but to kick you out of school."

Burnshoot calmed down, after counting to fifteen.

"That's better. Now, you are insisting on a career in spelunking, despite my advice against it. It's moments like these when I have to remember that we live in a strange world, where all we can say is, Do whatever will bring you the greatest happiness. You only have one life to live. Don't you agree, Crowler?"

"What's that?" Crowler said, pulling earwax out of his auditory canal. "Did you say we only have one wife to get? Yes, certainly, and for me her name is Beth Henley."

Once again, Burshoot was provoked. Chancellor Sheppard restrained him from assailing Crowler. "If you have feelings of anger, please express them in words, not in fists."

"Dr. Crowler, you know you are irritating me without regard to my better person. You are a bitter secondary school teacher, and I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. But you, sir, are the cause of the loss of my father's inheritance, not Beth. If she had been free to marry me, I would have no worries about the future."

Crowler was shocked. "You're blaming me for being disinherited? Excuse me, but I'm not the one who spent large sums on a girl who had never promised me anything. It is your ill luck that I'm Miss Henley's fiancée, but anybody else could've stood in your way as her suitor. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but you, Mr. Killslew, look like you were born in a cave."

"That's it!" Burnshoot shouted, indignantly. "I will have no more of this! I have chosen my pathway, and if all you lousy administrators want to do is criticize my dream, then I'm outta here."

And he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Crowler, you are banned from all future Career Ahead meetings until further notice."

"Yes, sir," Crowler said, hanging his head, abashed. Actually, he was just feigning embarrassment, for he had thoroughly enjoyed torturing a rich man's son.

Now Burnshoot was at home, on forbidden ground. If his father had been there, he might've been shot dead. It didn't matter that they were kin. Giovanni Killslew was very obstinate and had no qualms about murdering those who disobeyed his orders, even if there was a flesh-and-blood relationship between them.

He was here to take some of his belongings on his trip to the Marawbar Caves in Uruguay. There was his Rolex, which he had left at home when he went to Duel Academy; his thermos, which was the only receptacle he felt comfortable drinking out of when he was on a trip; and his Hello, Kitty pillow. He had no idea why he had a fascination with Hello, Kitty, but the fact remained that he did.

He went into the kitchen and saw a giant chocolate cake with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. At first, he thought he'd take one slice. But then, figuring that his father owed him for the disinheritance, he decided to take the whole cake with him. It was then that he noticed an invitation to a wedding on the countertop.

You are cordially invited

To the wedding of…

The illustrious Dr. Crowler

And his bride, beth Henley

To be held june 12 at the collam royale in

Detroit, Michigan at 10a.m.

r.s.v.p by may 25

So his father had been invited to this ignominious wedding! But Beth had not done Burnshoot the pleasure of inviting him; he who had loved her more than any man ever could! Maybe she thought his heart couldn't take it. But to want his father there, the man who had turned Burnshoot away as if he were scrap metal…it was unbearable!

He felt an injustice had been paid him, by both Dr.Crowler and his father. Well, there was going to be one unexpected guest at this wedding..

It was May twenty-sixth, so Burnshoot had a few days to wait. Of course, he could not remain in the house; his father would come home eventually. The house had only been around since he had started at Duel Academy, but he had spent his summers here. He had some good memories from that happy time when he was the heir of a multi-billionaire…

He went to stay at the Rue D'Enna, a French hotel in Miami, until the appointed date. The cake was delicious; it had the sweet taste of revenge. It lasted him about a week, and he shared some of it with a pretty maid.

When June eleventh came, he got on a plane and flew to Detroit. He dressed in a red tuxedo, because he thought black was too cliché and red represented his two main emotions: anger and love.

He sat in the fourth row among the friends and family of the bride. He waited impatiently for the words he came to hear, at which he would have a chance to wreck this blissful yoke of matrimony.

"Does anyone have a viable reason that these two wonderful people should not be happily wed?" asked the priest.

Burnshoot stood up. "I do!"

All heads turned to the lunatic, as they viewed him, intent on breaking up this cheerful event.

"What is your objection?"

"Miss Henley is, by nature, my wife, and, therefore, cannot be permitted to marry Dr. Crowler."

"By nature? Do you mean you impregnated her?"

"That's exactly what I mean!"

The audience gasped. There was a bespectacled, middle-aged man, leaning forward as if straining his eyes to see the aggressor.. Finally, he got a clear view.

"My son! How dare you show your presence here?"

"Father, this woman rightfully belongs to me, and I will be the obstacle that prevents Crowler from marrying her, as long as I am living."

"In that case," his old man said, "you won't be living much longer." And Giovanni Killslew pulled a .42 caliber pistol out of his right belt loop, and fired three shots.

The first bullet missed Burnshoot's head by a hair's breadth. The second one went between his legs. The third one hit him square in the chest, almost touching his heart.

"Call the ambulance! Call the police! Call the firefighters!" people were shouting.

"Firefighters? I don't see any flames," said an elderly gentleman.

"Not yet; but there will be," a woman near him insisted.

An ambulance came almost immediately, and two paramedics stepped out. "Where is the patient?"

Everybody pointed to Burnshoot's body, which lay prostrate and motionless on the ground. His face wore an expression of deep mental agony, although he was in a comatose state.

He was subsequently put on a stretcher and taken to a hospital. He was not expected to live another fortnight.

Three days later, as if by some miracle, the man who was widely regarded as the world's most knowledgeable doctor came in. Who had paid for him? Nobody knew, but they generally agreed on one thing: Giovanni Killslew didn't, because it was in his best interest for his son to die.

Dr. Oliver Croswell examined Burnshoot thoroughly, and claimed that if they could obtain a viscous substance from an acacia tree, and inject it into Burnshoot's body, there might still be hope. The substance was ordered, and Dr. Croswell mixed it in a solution to produce the desired vaccine. At last, it was done.

The doctor inoculated Burnshoot, and on the thirteenth day after the wedding, he was breathing freely and able to digest regularly again. Dr. Croswell asked to have a word alone with him, which the nurses and orderlies gratefully granted.

"Son, you have a lady friend who really loves you."

"You couldn't mean Beth Henley?" Burnshoot asked, in a voice that was little above a whisper.

"Actually, it's Beth Crowler now. The wedding was postponed till a week afterward, but it still went through. Mrs. Crowler paid for me to examine you, and therefore, I must say, you owe her your life."

"And I'd gladly give it!" Burnshoot shouted, joyously, though his volume was very low due to not using his voice for nearly two weeks.

"Yes; that's good to hear," Dr. Croswell said, smiling. Then he became stern. "But there is another matter that I feel obliged to bring before you. You see, as soon as you step out of this hospital, you are going to be incarcerated in a federal penitentiary."

"Prison, you mean? But what is my crime?"

"Disrupting a wedding on a mere caprice is your crime."

"And my father? What punishment will he receive?"

"None, whatsoever. Remember, we live in an era where money buys you out of everything, and since your father is the fifth richest person in the world, well, all society can do is respect his person."

"So, basically, he can do whatever he wants because he is wealthy."

"That's the idea."

"This is unjust, inhumane, beastly, and egregious! How can I be imprisoned for attempting to stop a marriage—not succeeding, only attempting—and my father is patted on the back for trying to kill his only son! What kind of world do we live in?"

"An incredibly harsh one, I'm afraid. Now, I have been told that you have an interest in exploring caves."

"You have heard correctly. Spelunking has been a lifelong passion for me. But if I'm to be imprisoned…"

"You're forgetting the matter with which I opened this conversation," Dr. Croswell said. "Mrs. Crowler loves you, and will be perfectly willing to pay your bail. So you won't be in jail for very long."

"Oh, my dearest Beth!"

"However, I want you to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Promise me that you will not go personally to see Beth after she pays for your freedom. Her husband is very envious of the feelings she has for you, and is not loath to attempt to kill you himself. My thought is, that once you have been liberated from your miserable tenure, you should go spelunking somewhere, and forget all about this little escapade. Forget about Beth. I know, she is all your hope and dreams, other than caves. But she belongs to another man, and there's no way you can ever marry her, until she becomes a widow. Enjoy yourself, but do not cross the path of Mrs. Crowler."

Burnshoot hesitated, but at last he gave a sigh and said, "I promise."

"Good. Then I have no more to say to you."

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