CHAPTER 2 Finding Myself in a Cave
"Gah-ugh!" Yeah, so the forces from just before don't amount to much compared to the end of that fall. I'm amazed we're still in one piece. He even managed to put me down gently. I'm looking back up at a small opening of light above us where one of the worms has managed to fall off with us, since he is still holding me and that's what I can see. I hope it didn't survive the fall. I'm glad we did. He's looking over his shoulder and giving me reassuring words I don't understand. Wish I could understand them. He's probably giving me important information I'll need to know if I ever make it back here. At least he isn't worried and rushing over with his sword. I'll pretend it died.
...And upon looking at me again, the irritation is back. Sigh. Kind words, irritation inside. Bundle of contradictions, or I just showed up in his life at the wrong time. Yeah, it's the wrong time for me, too. And way the wrong place. I don't belong here, really. Imagining living in a book is one thing...actually finding yourself there is another. My skin wants to crawl, except his touch is warm and kind, like his words. I'll trust those for now, and hope the irritation goes away when I'm where he doesn't have to be dragging me around. Maybe then he'll show me the kindness in the look, too. Maybe.
Where's he going? He's dropped his bag, but his sword is still out. I sit and watch him, with nothing else to do, and already completely worn out by my terror and the speed of the time from when I was going to be eaten to now, when I amn't. Whack - clatter. ... Whack - clatter. ... Whack - clank. He's still moving faster than most people should. Is there a reason he's in a hurry? Those roots look awful thick. I guess his super strength is what makes it look like he's just cutting threads. Hmm...they're a regular size and length. I get up to go and look, watching out for thrown logs so I don't get knocked out.
Looking around the cave I see that there is a fast moving underground river. Yeah, I heard and smelled that already. The "beach" we are on is rock and fairly wide, but it's because it's a bend in the river. Lucky, or the author used creative licence to let us have a perfect escape from the forest and monsters up above. I sigh and look over my shoulder. The worm monster still hasn't moved. I'm tempted to touch it to see if it is real, but my body disagrees and stays put. Probably wisdom.
There isn't anything else in here and unless he jumps us back up and grabs hold of the roots around the opening way above us, we aren't getting out that way. River it is. I know what he's cutting roots for. Finding a safe opening, I grab one of the logs. Gods, it's heavy! It takes grunting and straining, but I get one placed further out than his pile. He's kind enough not to throw the next three logs at me while I work at it, and puts them a little closer to himself.
There. After a bit of work, I've got four placed in a square. Now to see if I can lift an end. Ahhh...nope. Not high enough anyway. [One unintelligible word] and I'm shoved aside, not unkindly really. "Move," is it? No prob. I suspect he focused. He does seem to be in a hurry. He's got one of the logs up on two with one hand and easily, and is wrapping rope around the ends. Yup - raft. Well, I can still be helpful, until he catches up again. I head back to the pile and roll the next log over. Rolling is faster after all. I manage to keep up, for a while. He moves so fast, there isn't much to do but wash my sweating face in the river, collect the bags, and sit and watch. Having managed to get the other logs lined up helped, though. He's just about done anyway. I wonder why he's in a hurry?
He sits on the finished raft to rest. Hey, even Superman needs to stop and breathe every once in a while, right? His hair veils his face in a way I can't stop looking at. I love the length and my fingers itch to run through it and maybe even braid it. When I realize what I'm thinking, I look away, blushing. One last look up at the place we came from. My heart squeezes. Once we get moving on this raft, will I ever make it back? Will I ever get back home? His voice brings me back again and I get up and reluctantly walk to the raft. He's already got it ready to push off into the river. I clench my hands around the handle of my satchel and the rope of his knapsack, take a deep breath, and climb on, refusing to look at him, or the way home again. I don't have any other choice.
I don't look at him as he shoves us off. I don't want him to see my tears. It helps that we leave the opening and the light and are going into darkness. He can't see them for sure then. Ah, but I forgot. Sounds are magnified by water and caves. He isn't missing the catch in my breath. I'm not either as it echos back at me louder than I want. The river is moving fast here but doesn't make much noise. I bring my knees up and curl up around his bag (it's softer than my satchel) and shove my face into it to muffle my crying, finally giving up and sobbing. I really want to go home.
The river really is soothing. So is the darkness, but I do wonder a bit if we'll be scraped off the raft. Can this super fairy see in the dark, too? Caves are total darkness, completely blind places when there aren't rare openings around. I clamp down on the thoughts. They are also mind-numbing-fear inducing when you think about them too hard. Like that humongous tree over my head, all this rock. I gasp, then clamp down again. Just breathe. If he can see, we're fine. It's really too much for my system. "Um...excuse me?" I wait a moment. I think he's turned to look at me - the raft rocked just a bit anyway. I point at my eyes. "Can you see?" I point at the space where he should be and at my eyes again then at the space around us. "In the dark?" [Positive sounding affirmation - I think.] I pause then put my chin on the bag again. "Oh. I can't." I close my eyes. If he can see then that should be good enough.
Flick. Spark. Sput-sputter... I narrow my eyes against the glare as the sparks take and the torch in his hand is lit. I'm staring unashamedly. He just lit it with his bare hand and a focused glare, both of which I can see in the blooming light. Okay, now I'm in a fantasy for sure. Definitely NOT Earth, anyway. I sit, curled up around our bags, and rest my chin on my knees and watch him. Puppy-dog eyes. Probably anyway. He hands me the torch. "Thank you...," that just won't do.
"My name is Noriko. Noriko Taichiki." I point to my chest. "I'm Noriko. And you are?" I point to him. The surprised stare is almost comical. Why wouldn't I want to know his name? This acting like neanderthals is getting to me, all gestures and sounds that may as well be grunts. He's got to be at least from the iron age given his sword, and if I'm lucky the middle ages. That might be enough to get me houses with toilets, according to the Greek history I've researched in my studies of mythology mixed with reality. I listen politely to words I can't follow again. He sounds a bit wistfully bemused. Then, mixed in with the words I don't understand, "Izark. Izark Kia Tarj, Noriko."
"Thank you, Izark." I answer back, just so he knows I got the name, and so maybe I can remember it. I can remember just about anything I read...hear is another thing. That takes longer. I point to the torch. "Thank you for the light, Izark." He blinks at me, then nods and returns to watching the direction we're going. My fear recedes again as I enjoy the view of the underground tunnel. The stalactites and stalagmites are interesting and the crystal glitter on the walls of some of the rooms we pass through is captivating. It would have been a shame to miss this.
"Wha-!" I've been grabbed up, bags and all, and the raft is rocking wildly, then he's kicking off of it and landing - hard again. Really. Can we stop with that yet? You need a physics lesson. Of course, reality is a pretty harsh teacher. At least he's trying and I'm still alive. He's set me down gently again, mostly. Kinder eyes look at me this time. He probably got to relax on the quiet river also, particularly since I kept quiet. Maybe he was stressed about being in that forest. I listen closely this time as he talks to me. The words are so different, not even like any Earth languages, but I think I can replicate the sounds. A few gestures. [Stay here. I'm going searching.] I'm guessing. He holds out his hand for the torch. I shake my head. I have to pee and there's a large rock here I can hide behind. I can't do that in the dark.
I hand him his bag instead. "Clothes. Noriko clothes." I point to mine. "Izark clothes." I point to his. I've been thinking about this while we were on the river. I point to his bag. "Izark clothes for Noriko?" I point to me again. He gives me a once over, then nods and crouches down to dig through his bag. Like I thought. I'd stick out like a sore thumb wearing Earth clothes on this planet. He hands me a bundle of clothes. I head to the rock with that, my satchel, and the torch. A hand on my shoulder stops me. I look back and he gestures for the torch. How do I say it? I can't even gesture with my hands full like this. I sigh and hand him the torch, then cover my eyes. I uncover them and scowl at him. He gives me a slightly humored look and walks to the wall of the cave and leans on it while holding the torch, dropping his bag on the floor next to him. He crosses his arms and looks at me. [Well?] I nod and head for the protection of the large rock.
I can hear the rushing of the river, which has been quiet until now. I wonder if there's a waterfall ahead and that's why the sudden exit from the raft. I've stripped and done my business. (Including number two so I won't have to do that for another day at least. My math book won't need the last four pages of the worked odd problems. That will be an embarrassing non-verbal conversation to have the next time I need to go. One problem of a maiden being rescued by a knight and no other servants in sight. Can't ask him all the delicate female questions without both of us wishing we were anywhere else.) All of that is now in the fast flowing river. I try hard not to think of my only Earth clothing gone, though I was always more than ready to shed it when I got home from school. I've kept my socks and shoes. My feet are too tender and pampered from a modern lifestyle to go barefoot for who knows how many days we're going to hike.
It takes a while to get dressed. The clothes are simple enough - it's that he's a lot taller and bigger than me. I have to roll down the pant top, roll up the pant legs (a lot), roll up the sleeves - get the picture? At least there's a tie that I use to keep the pants up and cinch down the top with vertical pleats until it isn't so baggy I can't move for swimming. I did keep my school shirt to wear underneath. Might need the extra layer and being white it will be easier to hide. The socks and shoes go back on and I think I'm ready to go.
He's waiting a bit impatiently. He'd walked about a little, the shadows of the room flickering as the torchlight moved towards the river and back. I hold out my hand for his bag. If he's leaving, he's going to come back for that at least. A pause and a raised eyebrow. I frown and insist. Light dawns in his eyes and the most compassionate look I've ever seen on his face has me frozen, mesmerized. The strap of the bag is in my hand and he is moving off before I thaw. After a pause, I lean against the wall, watching the light in the room fade. Then it occurs to me to wonder why he didn't just take me with him, and if he can see in the dark, why did he want the light? I sigh and slide down the wall to sit until I give up and lay down, putting his bag under my head with my satchel under that.
My stomach wakes me up, like it usually does, with nightmares. The space around me is so dark I'm disoriented. My heart is pounding and all I can hear is a faint hissing, like a tea kettle set on low. My stomach clenches with hunger. I sigh and try to remember where I am again. There's a faint draft which means air. That's good. Maybe I've left my air conditioning vent closed a little too tightly so it's hissing. ...I always get a snack when I get home, but I missed that and it feels like I may have missed dinner as well. I wonder what's in the fridge that I can raid and if Mom left me some dinner. Then I wonder why she didn't come get me, or send David. There's a faint noise and my eyes are open again. Slowly the room I'm in begins to be lit by a distant, but increasing, light. My heart drops when the cavern comes into view and I groan slightly. I push up to sitting and lean dejectedly back against the rock wall. Can I even eat the food in this place? And the river going by makes my mouth dry. How bad are the parasites for Earthlings? Can I drink it without dying of dysentery? I close my eyes again. I hate this. ...I'm hungry. Like most people, I'm rather grumpy when hungry.
His first look at me is about the same as I feel. Disappointed I'm really still here. We both sigh at the same time, then carefully don't look at each other while we try not to laugh. When he gets to me, I point to my stomach, then my mouth. "Hungry." He nods and crouches down, handing me the torch. I hold it out of the way as he opens his bag and hunts through it. He glances back up at my satchel that was uncovered and pauses long enough to point to the satchel, and then the river. I try to keep the frown off my face. I get that the satchel has to go if the clothes had to. I open it to show him it has things in it and point to his bag. He looks in the satchel, pauses, then gestures to the floor. He wants to see first, I guess. I'm good with that, so I nod.
While he goes back to hunting for food, I pull everything out of the satchel and carefully consider each item. The math book. I pick it up and look at it. It's a heavy thing. I'd hate to make him have to carry it, even if it does mean I could leapfrog their society forward a thousand years with it, most likely. I weigh it, flip through a few pages, then stick it back in the satchel. It isn't worth it. I don't like carrying it. Notebooks. One of them fresh I just bought to use as a journal. I pick that one up. I'd like to keep that. Maybe it will help me to write about the crazy stuff that's going to happen. I woke up from sleeping back here, so I'm likely here to stay. It isn't a comforting thought. I put the notebook in front of him, on the other side of the satchel. He looks at it but waits for me to finish sorting.
If the notebook comes, the pencil case comes with. I open it to make sure. Two pens - will run out of ink eventually, four pencils, the pencil sharpener - essential in this world most likely, a nice white eraser. I close it with a nod and put it on top of the notebook. He picks it up and opens it to see for himself. The other books - one of them is my math notebook. I flip through it. There are empty pages in the back. I think I'll want them, so I tear out the math notes and jam them in the satchel. Once the notebook is a shadow of itself with only clean pages, I put it on top of the journal. The little one can be my language dictionary. If I can write down the words and sounds, I might be able to learn them better than just hearing them. I'll use the pen for that, it will be important. ...No, on second thought, I don't want the memories to be smudged and lost. That's the problem with pencils. They'll last longer, but the words won't. I'm supposed to memorize the language. If that gets smudged, maybe it will make me work harder. I'll save the pens for the memories. Thankfully he puts the pencil case back down on the notebooks without removing anything.
What's left? My brush. I pick that up and use it, then put my hair up in a ponytail using the one emergency elastic I keep on the brush, then set the brush down on the notebooks next to the pencil case. He shifts uneasily, but leaves it. It will have to go once I can get a replacement, then. The mirror and lip gloss. Who needs them? They are just a woman's armor...in my world. More likely just fodder for curiosity here. I move to put them in the satchel and he reaches for the mirror. Eh? I hand it over, curious.
He puts it on the ground in front of him and sends me a questioning look. Waving hands over it and peering into it. Ah...fantasy...so... scrying is it? I shake my head. "Nope, not a fortune teller - just a high school student." I pick it up and look into it, checking my face and hair, then pull the lip gloss back out and put it on using the mirror and hand it back to him. I look at the lip gloss as he peers into the mirror. I wonder if I'll wish I had the gloss to use as chapstick? What's it like outside? I roll it in my fingers a bit, then put it back into the satchel. It's too modern, and I'm not really a make-up kind of girl.
He holds the mirror out towards me but doesn't let it go. He really doesn't believe me, or he's never seen a mirror before.I shrug and take it. He's, no Izark's, got the torch jammed next to him between two rocks. Mirrors reflect the sun. Will it reflect the torch light? I attempt the experiment, then point to the faint light further in the back of the cave and make it move by making the mirror move. When he looks back at me in some astonishment, I shrug. "That's it. That's all it can do," and I shove it in the satchel. Izark doesn't complain this time.
Let's see...what's left? Only the most essential thing of any woman - the zip-lock emergency kit. Only two pads...that's likely a bad thing if I start before we get to another woman. I feel panicked at just that thought. I've got my handkerchief in my pocket (he actually had a pocket, surprisingly, in this baggy pajama-like outfit he gave me to change into). Four bandaids, three safetypins, two bobbypins. Man, I wish I'd put in that emergency sewing kit now. ...Not much, but it's coming. I put it with the notebooks, and look up at him. Izark reaches down, picks up the emergency kit and puts it on the satchel. My lips pinch tight and I can feel the fighting spirit well up in me. I shake my head and reach for it. He bats my hand aside and frowns, shaking his head back. I blow an exasperated breath, but he doesn't relent. I narrow my eyes. He just asked for it.