Lost

Some days, we lose our way, or it gets lost for us.  Either way, we look around and everything is gone.  How did it happen, we wonder?  Everything seemed to be going well.  There was a promise and a hope.  But all that's left is the big, black hollow and there is nothing to do but wait it out if we can.

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We bumped against the narrowing limestone walls looking up, searching for a way out, seeing only the small area lit by the narrow beams of our underwater lights.  We were lost.  I could feel the swelling in my chest, the rapid thumping.  Everywhere we looked, there were new chimneys.  We'd try one, then another, but they were all dead ends.  

Vladi and I were diving on our own now and had decided to try a spring cave that was not too far from our houses.  We had driven down the little dirt road, branches from saplings scratching the sides of the car.  Bumping and dipping and tilting along, we were already feeling dubious about the dive.  When we reached the end, we parked the car and looked down to the spring boil forty feet below.  It was clear and beautiful.  The water was emerald where the spring emerged from the river bottom perfectly clear.  We saw hundreds of fish suspended below us as if embedded in glass.  There was no sound but that which we made as we unpacked our diving gear from the car and the slow hissing of the water below.  

Thirty feet below the water's surface, there was a small opening that led to a tunnel that stretched back at an angle under the river bottom.  At ninety feet, tunnel opened up into a large underwater cave.  With anticipation, we descended into the blackness shining our lights here and there but there was nothing to see but the limestone walls, the greasy stalagmites and stalactites that had formed over the years.  

Then suddenly some invisible hand took hold of me setting me twirling and spinning.  My mask was ripped from my face.  In a few seconds, it was over.  I hung there in the dark for a quick minute before I pulled my mask back on and cleared the water from it.  I still had my light firmly clenched in my hand.  At 150 feet, we had come to the mouth of the spring where the water silently rushed out from it's underground origin, tens of thousands of gallons per minute.  Looking around, I saw Vladi's light.  He was swimming toward me.  With his thumb, he motioned upward.  No doubt.

We had come to a roof, though, with hundreds of chimney openings.  Which one had we come down?  It was the only one that led to the surface.  We tried one opening, then another, then another, each of them narrowing until we could go no further or abruptly stopping at a solid rock roof.  I could see the panic in Vladi's eyes that I knew mirrored my own.  

The days had become so beautiful.  I thought about how they had changed.  I thought about school and my mother and my father, but mostly I thought about how beautiful the days had become, bright and blue and so full.  

I checked my gauge.  I had about half a tank of compressed air left.  We were at ninety feet.  It wouldn't last all that long.  Vladi looked at me and held his hands out at his sides.  I responded by shaking my head.  

We had drifted away from the roof of the cave and landed on a rock and sand bottom.  For no reason, we swam along its contour, following it as it sloped up to where it entered another chimney.  A little way into it, the water seemed to glow.  A bit further, definitely, there was light.  Up and up, brighter and brighter, until we emerged into the river's open water.  

On the river bank, we dumped our equipment and just lay still.  We weren't ready to talk about it yet.  I leaned back and looked at the sky and listened to the water.  

Yes, yes, these were big, beautiful days.