Faithful Pebble
Part Seventeen
"Why?" the girl asked.
The tent peg wobbled slightly teetering left, right then left again in time to the man's short tugs. He dropped the rope then pawed the ground locating the hammer he'd placed somewhere near his left knee. Its blunt head rose sharply, swung sharply against rust and black tipped steal, coarse thick metal that rang as it was struck. In seconds, the earth erupted. The nailed sank deeply plunging its spear sharp point into dirt, into grass, leaves, and flower crusted mud. Its unforgiving tip pierced into the flesh of the hill delving firmly enough to cause the man to hum in soft satisfaction. Gathering up the rest of the rope, he moved to toss it down the well grunting a 'Watch your head' as he did so. He clapped his hands of dirt and mud, grass and sweat and effort. "Why, hmm? Because it just confirms something for me." He looked down the hole guessing that somewhere in its darkness the girl was staring at the rope. He leaned against the ledge. "Do you want to leave?"
His answer for those few first minutes was a heavy silence, a telling silence that didn't deter him. He'd expected it and so the wanderer waited…
And waited…
And—
Then after a moment (a long moment), the voice spoke softly. "I have been down here a long time."
The wanderer nodded.
"This is all I know and…"
"Why are you afraid?"
"I'm—" She stuttered but the man didn't let her finish.
His eyes narrowed. "Did someone say something?"
A body hit brick wall.
"Do something?"
He licked his lips.
Sorry for being late, I fell asleep proofreading this. Can you believe it? - Calla