The Catacombs

I leaned against a wall of porous rock to look at my watch. I sent the beam of my flashlight over it to read the numbers . . . 1:45 a.m. Not bad, I thought. Especially considering that we hadn't started this odd "treasure hunt" until eleven at night. It really didn't matter what time of the day it was, as far into the earth as we were.

"The Catacombs" had lived up to their name, so far. My class of ninth and tenth graders had divided up into three groups, each trying to explore their way all the way through the loop, ending where we'd started. All we knew about the series of caves was that they did form a loop, and that somewhere in them was the "tight squeeze." All of our very limited knowledge came from our guide, Falon. He was a friend of our teacher, Ms. Rathbun, and an experienced spelunker. He'd been through the Catacombs many times, and I was glad to have him in my group. My sense of direction left something to be desired, and while I wasn't afraid of the dark, the thought of making my way through this maze on my own, with or without a flashlight, did not appeal to me.

I was decked out with the works . . . two flashlights, a hard hat, and padding for my elbows and knees, bulking up my jeans and sweater. I hoped none of it would be too necessary, but all of it handy, just in case.

My group impatiently made its way through the caverns and low tunnels, constantly begging Falon for some hint of where to go. He gave none, except to make our way through the tight squeeze. Everyone was anxiously anticipating that adventure, not only because it would assure us that we were going in the right direction, but because that's all we'd thought about all evening.

Falon had brought out what he called a squeeze box, a rectangular frame made of plywood with an upper piece that could be adjusted to make the open space smaller or larger. He set the box on the ground in our campsite as we all gathered around, full of curiosity. He lay with his back on the ground and proceeded to move his whole body through the opening in the box. When he was all of the way through, he stood up, dusted himself off, and announced, "That was eight inches. You all have to be able to go through that to go into the cave tonight." And that was the first we heard about the tight squeeze.

We got in a line, all of us eager to squeeze and contort our bodies through this wonderful device. Everyone got through the eight inch setting successfully, and it quickly became a contest to see who could fit through the smallest amount of space. Every girl was set on pulling herself through six inches, into the elite "Six Inch Club." I went into my tent and took off my underwear to do it.

Now we were wondering just how tight this tight squeeze was. I had put my underwear back on and was not about to take them off again.

"Look, a Starburst wrapper!" someone exclaimed. "Travis has been here."

That's so rude! I thought. We followed the route that Travis' group had obviously taken and I picked up the papers whenever I saw them. We heard some voices and found one of the other groups. The time in the cave was making me hyper, and I bounced over to greet my friend, Janell.

"Did you see all of Travis' wrappers?" I asked her.

"Uh-huh. But that group went back. They're wimps."

I nodded my head in agreement as the two group leaders announced that they wanted to join into one big group and proceed on together, if that was okay with everyone. Most of the kids looked around at the others, and then shrugged their assent. Janell and I smiled.

We set off at an enthusiastic pace, the leaders conferring and comparing notes on where they'd already taken their groups. How they even remembered was beyond me as I looked around at the caverns and tunnels . . . they all seemed to be reflections of each other. But that's why I wasn't a leader.

We were almost on our hands and knees as we ducked under a low ceiling of stalactites. I was really appreciating my sturdy hat at that point. As I reached the end and stood up straight, I heard Janell, behind me, groan in pain. I turned around to face her.

"My back," she said by way of explanation. "I hit it on the rocks."

Falon made his way over and lifted the back of her sweater and tee-shirt to examine the wound. I stood behind them and looked over his shoulder. My eyes grew wide as I saw the blood slowly trickling down her back. Falon quickly pulled some gauze from his first aid kit, wetting it with water from the bottle he was carrying and mopping up the mess. Then he got another piece and held it over the small gash that was now visible. Somehow the protruding rock had managed to scrape directly on a mole, tearing it half off. I grimaced as I saw it, and I was glad Janell couldn't see her back. I sure wouldn't want to if it was me.

The bleeding stopped, the wound was covered with Neosporin and a Band-Aid, and she was pronounced fit for travel. We continued onward.

A few minutes later, someone shouted, "I think this is it!" Seventeen bodies rushed forward to see. Several eyebrows were raised as we saw the narrow tunnel climbing at a 45- degree angle.

"How do we know if this is it?" a girl named Beth asked. Janell and I rolled our eyes at each other. The group looked questioningly at Falon. He merely grinned.

"I say we go for it. If it gets too small, we'll go back," suggested Bart, the biggest guy in the class. "I'll go first, and if I get all of the way through, the rest of you sure can." And up he went. We waited anxiously until we heard him shout, "I'm over! Who's next?"

One by one we made our way up and over. I followed on the heels of J.T., not knowing what to expect.

"Drat," I said.

"What?" asked Janell from her position, again behind me.

"Oh, I hit my stupid flashlight on the side and it went out. Hang on a sec while I get my other one." I grabbed the smaller light and flipped it on, relieved to see its beam of light shining ahead.

As I clamored over a ridge at the top of the tunnel, I was faced with a wider downslope but the roof was still as low. Bart reached his hands up toward me.

"Twist your body around so that your feet are facing down on this side. Then step onto my hands and I'll help you down." I obeyed his directions and got to the ground safely.

I turned to Falon and asked, "That was it, wasn't it?" My words were met with another of his grins. But I interpreted it to mean that we'd passed the tight squeeze.

When everyone was through, we gathered around as Falon spoke one very cryptic clue: "Find Cleopatra's Tomb."

We blinked at him. "What?"

A wink from our guide. We sighed and were off again.

Many wrong turns and backtracks later, we found a large oblong rock, smoother than the rest, with painted pictures and writing on it. "Cleopatra's Tomb," it read. A wave of "ah-ha!"s swept through the group as we suddenly saw the likeness between the rock and a coffin. Expectantly we looked to Falon once more.

"'Lift your eyes and look to the heavens.'"

Another chorus of "What?!?" ensued.

"Isaiah 40:26," he said.

"Oh, that clears it all up," someone muttered.

I grinned at Janell.

With nothing else to do, the leaders urged us forward. We came to a place where the roof took a dive until it was only about two feet from the floor. J.T., directly in front of me, shined his flashlight and looked ahead as far as he could. With a shrug of his shoulders, he got down on his stomach and started a slow crawl. I did likewise and others followed. In that small space, two groups were quickly defined: the fast group and the slow group. Janell and I were at the tail end of the faster group, and a short distance in front of the slower ones. Time crept on and so did we.

Ahead of me, I watched as J.T. turned sideways and began to roll his way through. I followed suit and quickly caught up with him. Janell took it at a slower pace and it wasn't long until I couldn't see her or the others behind her. I heard a lot of noise from in front and understood why as I rolled out into an open room.

J.T. was jumping up and down and saying, "We were here before! Our group saw this place at the beginning! We've made the loop!"

I surveyed the surroundings and found that we were standing in a large pit, the walls a straight incline eight feet up. People started helping each other out, and I was the last as J.T. pulled me up to the rim.

"Where are the people who were behind you?" he asked hurriedly.

"They were just a little ways back. They'll be here in a few seconds, I'm sure."

"Good. Tell them that this," he said, gesturing with a general sweep of his right arm, "is the way out. Okay?"

"Okay," I agree. I sat down to wait. I glanced at my watch and smiled . . . almost three a.m.. I switched off my flashlight to conserve my dad's battery but kept an eye on the opening, expecting to see Janell pop out at any moment. I continued to wait, curiously wondering what was taking them. Impatient, I stood and flicked my light back on and flashed it in the direction J.T. had gone. Nothing there, either. Another check of my watch told me fifteen minutes had passed. I considered panicking but decided against it. I sighed and sat down again.

Why is it always me? I silently asked myself. Why do I always end up getting left behind or lost or . . .

Another five minutes passed and I rose and stomped my feet in frustration. Where are they? And why haven't the others come back? Twenty minutes is a long time.

Wherever everyone was, I wanted to be with one group or the other. I looked down into the pit. I had considered jumping down and going back, but knew if I didn't find Janell, I wouldn't be able to get back out on my own. I began to pray. Lord, please help someone to come. Please, Lord, I'm scared. But no one came. Reluctantly, I went toward the way out. Paying extra close attention to my surroundings, I made my way through an arch-like structure and recognized a metal stairway that had seemed odd when I first saw it, hours before. Relieved to be able to identify something, I stood on them and glanced about. Many tunnels and caverns split off of this one, and I didn't know which one headed outside. And then I did begin to panic.

"Can anyone hear me?" I yelled, cautiously at first, but getting louder until I was screaming it out.

"Is someone there? Anyone?" I pleaded. No answer.

I continued to pray. A song came into my head, and, not knowing what else to do, I began to sing.

"Turn your eyes upon Jesus . . . look full in His wonderful face . . . and the things of earth will grow strangely dim . . . in the light of His glory and grace . . . I cast all my cares upon You . . . I lay all of my burdens down at Your feet . . . and anytime I don't know what to do . . . I will cast all my cares upon You."

It was somehow comforting. I sang through the chorus, over and over, quietly, to myself and God.

I abruptly stopped as I thought I heard something. "Is anyone there?" I cried frantically. I heard laughter and voices coming in my direction. I saw J.T. and a few others, and almost hugged him.

"They never came out," I told him. "And I didn't know which way to go . . . "

He laughed and we walked back to the pit.

"Where are you idiots?" he yelled into the darkness.

"Do you think they went the wrong way?" I asked.

"Nah. It didn't branch off anywhere around there. And they've got Falon with them. They'll be out soon."

And sure enough, moments later, they all tumbled out. I helped Janell up and asked her, "What happened to you guys?"

"Oh, we turned around because we thought we were going the wrong way. And then we figured out it was the right way and came back."

Everyone left the cave and loaded into the van for the short return trip to camp.

"That was so much fun!" J.T. said.

I rolled my eyes.