"Hoss doesn't."
"He will after I give my statement."
"What are you going to say?" she asked, wary of his answer.
"Exactly what you'll say: the truth." He resumed walking and she followed. "Maybe it'd be different if Robert was talking." He stopped, pointing behind Sara. She turned, looking at the mountains on the horizon.
"That's Herd's Gap," he said. "All the rich people live there. Jessie's family included."
Sara shaded her eyes, taking in the view.
"I know it doesn't look like much, but it's right at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains. You can't see them from here, but up that way," he indicated the space to their left, "are the Cheaha Mountains." He started walking again. "And underneath us, there's thirty-two miles of the hardest, whitest marble in the world. It goes about four hundred feet down."
Sara watched his back, wondering why he was telling her this. "Is that so?"
"Sylacauga marble is in the Washington Monument and the Supreme Court building," he continued. "I remember when I was a kid the windows would shake from all the blasting." He stepped over a fallen tree and held out his hand to help Sara over. She could see his socks were getting filthy, but he did not seem to care.
He said, "There's an underground river that cuts through the city. Between the river and the blasting in the quarry, there are sinkholes all over town. A few years ago one of them opened up at the Baptist church and the back half of the building dropped about ten feet underground."
"Jeffrey -"
He stopped again. "That's what I feel like, Sara. I feel like this whole town is sinking, and I'm going right down with it." He gave a harsh laugh. "They say you can't get any lower than the ground, but this is the one place you can."
She took a deep breath, and breathed out, "I can't have children."
He did not speak for what seemed like an eternity, then he gave her a neutral "Okay."
"I gather we're supposed to pretend you didn't say what you said last night before…" she threw a hand into the air, "…before all hell broke lose."
"No," he stopped her. She believed him when he told her, "I meant what I said."
"Then tell me," she asked. "Tell me why Reggie doesn't trust you."
Droplets of rain splattered against the leaves overhead, and Sara looked up at the sky just as the bottom dropped out. In seconds, they were both soaked. The rain was so dense she reached out to take Jeffrey's hand for fear she would lose him.
"This way," he yelled over the downpour. He walked fast, then started jogging when a bolt of lightning cracked the sky. The tall trees all around them that had been so beautiful before were nothing more than lightning rods now, and Sara picked up the pace along with him, wanting to find shelter before the storm got worse.
The sky grew darker, and Sara looked up just as Jeffrey pulled her down into a squatting position. Carefully, he pushed back a clump of hanging vines and rotted old boards before leading her through a four-foot-wide opening into a cave. Inside, the air turned almost cold, and she put her hand against the rough rock of the ceiling, trying to get her bearings. Even with her knees bent, Sara could not stand up straight. She curved at the waist, reaching out with her hands, trying to feel her surroundings as Jeffrey pulled her farther into the cave. There was nothing but empty space to her left and right, but overhead the ceiling sloped up so that she could straighten a bit more. Still, she had to keep her head and shoulders down so she would not scrape against the ceiling.
In the distance, she could hear the muffled rain as well as a constant dripping. Just enough light came in through the vines and cracked boards at the entrance to keep them from total darkness, but somehow that was no comfort. Even as her vision adjusted, she could not see the back of the cave.
"You okay?" Jeffrey asked.
"Fine." Sara shuddered, but not from the cold. She kept her hand against the ceiling, feeling claustrophobia overwhelm her.
"Jesus, it smells in here." He passed by her again, doing something at the entrance of the cave. More light came in as he kicked out the boards, but it was still too dark for comfort.
Sara blinked a few times, making out a long bench seat like the kind they used to put in cars. Stuffing and springs jutted out of the vinyl upholstery. In front of the seat was an old coffee table with hemp rope around the edges, scuffs showing where people had sat with their feet propped up. Jeffrey brushed something out of his hair as he walked over to the seat. He searched under the bench, and over the steady hush of the rain she heard him laugh.
"They're still here," he said, sounding pleased.
She stepped closer to him, unsettled by the darkness. A musty odor was in the air, and underneath that the scent of decay. She wondered if there were any animals in here, or perhaps an animal was on his way back home, looking to get out of the storm.
Jeffrey struck a match, and the cave was briefly illuminated before the flame flickered out. Like her, he was standing with his shoulders hunched against the ceiling. Unlike her, he seemed perfectly at ease. She felt embarrassed for being so frightened. Sara had never been afraid of the dark before, but the closed space had a feel to it that she could not quite name.
He struck another match. The fire burned down just as quickly as it had with the first, casting the cave back into darkness. He said, "I guess they got wet."
Sara spoke before she could stop herself. "I don't like it in here."
"The storm will pass soon," he told her, taking Sara's arm and leading her to the seat. "It's okay," he soothed. "We used to come here after school."
"Why?" she asked, thinking this was as close to being buried alive as she ever wanted to come. Even sitting down, she could feel the cave looming over her. She reached out, grabbing Jeffrey's hand.
"It's okay," he repeated, finally sensing her fear. He put his arm around her and kissed the side of her head.
Sara leaned into him, asking, "How did you find this place?"
"It's near the quarry," he told her. "Robert came across it one day while we were out looking for arrowheads."
"Arrowheads?"
"This area was filled with Indians. Creek at first, then Shawnee warriors. They called it Chalakagay. DeSoto's records mention the town in the early 1500s." He paused. "Of course, the government came in around 1836 and moved them all out west." He stopped again. "Sara, I don't want kids."
The sound of rain filled the cave, sounding like a thousand brooms sweeping across the rock.
"I didn't exactly have the best role models growing up, and who knows what the hell my genes will pass on."
She put her fingers to his lips. "Tell me more about the Indians."
He kissed her fingers, then asked, "Why, you want something to help you sleep?"
Sara laughed, and she realized with a start that she could stay here forever as long as he kept talking. She repeated, "Tell me more."
He paused, probably trying to think of what to say. "You can't see it, but there's a lot of marble in here. Not enough to get the quarry folks interested, but you can see the veins along the back wall. That's why the air is so cool. Are you cold?"
"No, just soaking wet."
He pulled her closer and she put her head in the crook of his neck, thinking that everything would be okay if they could just stay this way until the storm passed.
He continued, "We stole this bench seat from an old car out in the junkyard. Possum's probably still got the scars on his ass from the dog we had to wrestle for it. The coffee table was out by the road for trash pickup. We carried it two miles up the highway to get it here." He laughed good-naturedly. "We thought we had it made."
"I bet you brought girls here all the time."
"Are you kidding? They were afraid of spiders."