Chapter – The Boy IV

"How we doin'?" Frank murmured in my ear.

I glanced up. "Another twenty feet or so." Then we'd have to climb out of the entrance pit. By now help ought to have arrived but dealing with the villagers one never knew. Yet Penhale and Louisa would be chivvying them along; Louisa the more useful of the two. No doubt Louisa would have been on her mobile to all and sundry to involve additional help.

She was a most capable teacher, no, a helluva lot more than that. Intelligent, active, fair, thoughtful, nice and caring. I added beautiful and charming to the list. By why in God's name had she not let me know she was pregnant with our child well before she came back to the village? But I knew the answer. It was me, and how I would have reacted – did react – when she arrived on my doorstep.

Did I actually wish to move back to London? That would be a plum surgical posting, but gazing into the bloody cut on Frank's hand proved I was not ready – certainly not yet. A few cubic millimeters of blood and I upchucked. I'd have to put them off, if they did offer me the position. Perhaps later then. And of course, there was Louisa and our child. What could I do about that? I sighed and the boy on my back jerked.

"Doc?"

"Nothing."

Rusty metal bars clawed at my chest and knees as I climbed, and it was all getting to be a bit much for me. Thank God it was on an angle, although steep, or I'd never have gotten this far. Treating the village baker on a cliff ledge and being pulled to safety by Bert's winch was child's play compared to this.

I paused for a break, with the tow strap hooks firmly attached to two different struts. I'd found the hard way that some of the bars looked solid put were mere shells of their original iron. I gingerly flexed my claves and feet to try and relieve some of the cramping I was feeling. My hands and arms felt strained as well.

"They need to make sure this place is permanently closed down," I said.

Frank chuckled. "Yeah. That wire fence up there was a joke. I squeezed right through."

"You were an id…" Don't tell the boy that! "What were you thinking? To climb down into this awful place! Really!"

The boy sighed. "Alright. Not one of my best moves."

"Got it one," I snapped.

"But… I just… wanted… the big boys…"

"To leave you alone? Well, if you'd been killed down here, I don't think they'd ever bother you again. And your poor mother? Worried sick she is! Not acceptable. Frank, you must think things through before doing them! And if in doubt ask your mother or some other responsible adult." I sighed. "If there is a problem, SAY so."

"I know, and I guess I'll be punished."

"At a minimum you'll be forbidden to explore anymore mines or caves, I should imagine."

He laughed in my ear and his voice echoed around the cavern. "I messed up. None of us is perfect."

There was nothing to say to that.

"Look, I'll take my lumps. Okay?" he added.

"Okay."

He nestled against my back for a few seconds. "You know."

My legs were felling slightly better standing motionless. "Know what?"

"Oh… about big kids."

"What do you mean?"

He drew a deep breath. "Getting teased, have your schoolbooks dumped in the bin, all that."

"I…" What could I tell him other than the truth? "Yes. I was… uhm, small for my age… in school and bookish. Never fancied football. Not many… uhm... that is…"

"Friends," he finished for me. "I guessed." His uninjured hand patted my shoulder. "Clever kids get picked on by bullies. You're smart, Doc - smartest one in the village - so it just followed. Happens all the time."

"Er, I may not be the smartest about all things. Frank, there is a distinct difference between intelligence and acting smart. Intelligence is your basic intellect – being able to reason, learn new things, and so forth. Acting smart is using your intelligence to good effect, such as staying out of disused mines and other dangerous places."

He snickered. "So, coming down in the mine was not smart."

"Correct."

"Yeah, so, I should told 'em to bugge… uhm, go fly a kite."

"That might have been a better course of action." I rolled my neck from side to side. "Now back to it."

Foot by foot I made my way up the angled man engine to the ledge I had climbed down from. Getting myself and Frank off the rusted frame and onto solid ground was both difficult and frightening, but at last I crawled onto rock. Slumping onto my right side, I unbuckled the straps which freed the boy from my back.

"Brilliant, Doc," he told me, as he rolled away and got to his feet. I saw him look down shining the large torch. "Long way down."

My breath was quite gone for a few seconds. "Frank, best be off."

I knelt by the boy and looked down. Nothing to see but his light, rock going down into darkness, and the ruined metal man engine.

"Come Frank. Let's get this off you." I pulled the pack away and dropped it. The trousers were ripped and stained but I dusted at my knees, more from habit than anything. "I can't believe that you went down there."

The kid smiled. "Got a nice hunk of copper ore though."

"Whatever," I replied. "Can you walk? Unsteady?"

"A little."

I got on his right side, and put my left arm around him, trying to avoid his injured left arm. "I'll give you a hand." I took the torch from his right hand. "Now slow and steady."

He looked up. "A real adventure, eh Doc? Not quite to the center of the Earth, though."

Clearing my throat, I said, "Come Frank, let's get you home."

"Sure, Doc." He yawned. 'I'm awful tired."

I started to guide the boy away from the rim of the ledge we stood on and into the horizontal tunnel. I looked down to my right and got a glimpse of those blasted lights far down the shaft. As I watched they went out one by one. "Erm, nonsense," I muttered.

"What's that Doc?"

Clearing my throat, I said, "Come Frank, let's get you home."

In ten minutes or so I had gotten Frank to the entrance shaft and heard hustle and bustle above, and as I watched Chippy Miller and Al Large had just stepped off the vertical ladder.

"Doc!" they yelled as one.

"You found the boy! Good!" Chippy exclaimed. "Looks like the little un's hurt."

"Possible concussion, sprained or wrenched elbow, deep cut on his hand which needs stitching," I explained.

"Where'd you find him?" Al asked.

I waved my hand at him. "Back there." The details would be offered later.

Al scooped up the boy and carried him towards the ladder while Chippy smiled at me.

"What?" I asked.

He tapped me on the chest. "Proper job, Doc."

I brushed his hand away. "The boy had to be found. I was available."

"Penhale wouldn't a been any good." Chippy snickered. "When we got ourselves sorted and assembled, and on scene, Miss Glasson was fit to be tied. Tore a strip off us for delayin'. But here we are now!"

"Al!" I shouted, "careful with the boy!"

Al parked the child on a rock and shouted up the news, and I heard a mighty cheer from above.

In a few minutes, a professional rescue liter had been lowered to us and shepherded by two roped members of the Search and Rescue Team, Frank was lifted back to the world of men.

"I thought this lot were unavailable?" I asked Al.

"Yeah, about that, when they heard it was a kid lost in a mine, they stopped their training exercise, and got here right quick in an RAF chopper," Al explained. He squinted up at the litter being raised. "I can't believe you come down here Doc. Every done any cave exploring?"

"No."

Al and Chippy explained looks and then Al smiled. "Well, then… I suppose you had to do what you had to do," he observed.

I looked at the two villagers. "Yes. Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Then two Rescue people descended and got us ready to go up.

Chippy, Al, and I were each suitably safety-harnessed for our vertical climb of that hellhole, so by the time I had emerged from the underground the ambulance had scooped up Frank and he was taken to hospital. His mother had also arrived at the mine in Chippy's truck, so Mrs. Marrak was there to go with him to Bodmin A and E.

Climbing out I was incredibly grateful for the harness and safety rope, for I was spent. To my amazement, there was quite a swarm of people gathered above. Some of the village fishermen, Mike Chubb, the baker, the village painter, Penhale and Bert, plus a few women, even the man from the dry cleaner leaning on his cane; time wasters the most of them, but the one I was most pleased to see stood back a ways watching me as I was freed from the ropes. The others cheered and rushed forward patting me on the back, making inane compliments, clearly happy that the ordeal was over.

Louisa Glasson stood back a ways, but gave me a nod of her head and a little smile.