I noticed that Christy had a new wool hat, because he’d lost his old one when we skied up to the cave. I wondered if Mickey had given it to him, also as a wedding present. I bet that was true. I wondered what else it could make.
In the days after our first night together, I didn’t see any of the other people who were there that night. It was like there wasn’t anybody in the cave but the three of us. I figured there were other caves with the other people in them, or maybe they lived further back in our cave. I asked Mickey where his neighbors went, they seemed so nice. He said something about they were “respecting our privacy.” Okay, okay. If he didn’t want to give me a straight answer, he didn’t have to.
So I thought I’d take a look further back in the cave, and just see if there was any sign of people living back there, plus maybe that was where the warehouse was. Maybe they were all together in a workshop there, making pottery and knitting hats and tie-dying shirts, like some ancient hippie cult. I mean, anything seemed possible.
I got one of the oil lamps, which are pretty bright, and I walked back in the cave, which got narrower as I went back. It wasn’t scary, as it would have been when we first came to the cave. It was a bit damp, sure, but it wasn’t dripping, and there didn’t seem to be any animals or big spiders moving around. When I got way to the back, the cave was much more like a tunnel than the big room it seemed like out near the front.
On one of the walls, I noticed some painting, right on the rock. A large group of dancing figures, one with a tall hat, just like the one Mickey had worn at our wedding. They were carrying garlands of red-orange berries with yellow casings. Bittersweet.
The figures had recognizable faces. There was Mickey, there was Christy, there was me. And there was my mother. Had my mother been there at the wedding? I didn’t remember her being there, for sure, and it seemed so unlikely that she would have just appeared there in the woods and gone away without taking me back with her.
Had Mickey come back here and painted this scene? I was touched, really. It was sweet, in a mystical sort of way. I stood there looking at the drawings for a little while, and my oil lamp started guttering. The figures had looked so lifelike, and now they started to move. My mother turned to look at me, and she seemed to be speaking. What was she saying? The oil lamp guttered more, and went out.
I stood there in the dark, not knowing which way to move, and for the first time I was afraid. I heard my mother’s voice. “Calm down, Andrea,” she said. “You never get anywhere by panicking.” I waited for a minute, and took a few deep breaths. The darkness did not seem so deep. Was my mother there with me or not?
As I stood debating the question, it became clear that there was a dull light coming from a part of the darkness, and I thought that maybe that was the direction from which I’d come. “Go ahead,” said my mother’s voice. “Trust yourself.” Well, that certainly sounded like my mother. All that new-age crap. I walked towards the dim light, and as I walked the light got stronger. Soon I was back at the front of the cave again.
Christy and Mickey weren’t anywhere to be seen. I looked out the front of the cave, and it was fucking pouring down rain. Where had they gone? Mickey’s little house was empty. I yelled out a bit, calling Christy’s name. Everything seemed so much like a dream. Was I on some kind of strange drug? Was I in the woods at all? Was I at my mom’s house, and having some kind of a psychotic episode? I thought I was past that kind of thing, really.
The fire was still going, and I lit a couple of the oil lamps from it. Just about the time I was starting to get worried, Christy and Mickey came out of the back of the cave. Christy had an oil lamp. I wondered where they had been, since I hadn’t seen any light back there at all. They looked funny, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Christy had his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, but he moved it when he saw me.
“Andrea! There you are!” he said, as though he’s been looking for me. I know that lying tone.
“Where’d you go? I was worried,” I said.
“Everything’s fine. Just go with the flow, babe. Just go with the flow.”
That’s good advice if you’ve got a flow to go with. Christy did, Christy always did, but he wasn’t going to tell me about it.
Mickey had started poking at the fire, stirring it up, and was putting the big pot on the hook over it, and tossing stuff in the pot. I thought maybe I could help with that, and pretty soon we were working together on chopping up stuff and it was starting to smell pretty good. Christy didn’t make himself useful, but then he never does, you know?
I asked Mickey about the paintings I’d seen in the back of the cave. He said maybe we should go back there while the stew was cooking, and he squeezed my shoulder. Christy was nodding off anyway, so we slipped away easily, grabbing a lamp on the way out.
Walking towards the back of the cave, I noticed more pictures and some strange writing, like lines and circles. I asked Mickey what it meant.
“Instructions and rules, mostly. Stuff you need to know to raise your kids right.”
“Do you have kids?”
“Mmmmph.” It was a yes, I thought.
“Where are they? Are they grown up?”
He made some more noises. “Old enough. Scattered.”
Poor guy, I thought. Getting old up here in the mountains, and his kids off somewhere, probably don’t visit. I wonder if they even know he’s living in a cave now.
“That was nice, last night,” I said. “I was wondering about the pictures in the cave of us dancing.” Mickey didn’t say anything, he just kept leading me deeper into the cave. “Haven’t we already gone past the painting I was talking about?”
“It’s a circular path,” said Mickey. “We’ll come by it again.” We walked, and it did seems as though we were going uphill and around a curve.
This isn’t what I thought it was like, but I have to agree that it did look as though the picture was coming up again.
“There!” I said, “There’s the picture.” We stopped, because I made us stop. Mickey would have continued on by.
“See that?” He nodded. “That’s us there, isn’t it?” He nodded again. “And there, towards the back, that’s my mother.” He nodded again.
“Okay,” I said. “How did my mother get there?”
“Your mother is a very strong soul,” said Mickey. “Whatever has been done to her, she has fought back, and has entered the realm from which there is movement back and forth.”
“ I don’t understand,” I said. “Do you know my mother?”
Mickey kissed me. “And you are also a very strong soul. I am sure I am seeing your mother in you.”
“Was she here? Do you know my mother? What is she doing in the cave?”
“We need to keep walking, just past here,” said Mickey. He moved a curtain aside, as we passed, and there was a small room cut into the rock. We stopped and went inside, and he was so nice and gentle, and he has a deliciously masculine scent.
Christy
So we figured to stay for a few days. Seemed like the easiest thing to do. A lot pleasanter than walking down the mountain in the mud.
Mickey was totally great, and Andrea seemed to be okay with what was going down, whatever she thought. She never said a word to me about it.
Mickey and I had a lot of chances to get together, and we took advantage of them. She was a total delight. Not to say that Andrea wasn’t neat, but it’s the unexpected treat that is sweetest, isn’t it? Even Andrea would understand that.
Andrea and Mickey seem to be becoming friends too, which is more than I could have hoped for. They went off for long walks into the cave together, and they always came back hand-in-hand and smiling. I wondered sometimes if they were talking about me, but Andrea had no idea, and Mickey seemed to live on another planet when it came to fucking.