Pearced

chapter thirty-one, Monday:4thnovember2013, out



We wake, and our blazing inferno has transformed into cold pale grey ash overnight with sections of charred black planks sitting at odd angles to each other. It reminds me of a kids game where you had to take away each stick in turn without disturbing the rest. It’s chilly and the first rays of light are invading our space illuminating the roof of our cavern. I pull on my James Perse hoodie amused I know a real James Pearce...Spelling is different but....I wonder...? Daniel stirs beside me, he’s the last to wake, this whole story must be a very anxious time for him, it must drain him of energy, I gently stroke his hair, “tea?” I whisper.

“I love that you wake me with a question, I’d love a tea please, I don’t think I slept very well.” he winks at me and I blush, remembering I didn't either. I dismantle the last of the crate that had contained the box and start another fire. I make a fresh pot of tea and we have fried tomatoes and mushrooms on oiled toast for breakfast, followed by orange segments and sliced apples. Everyone's tea flasks are filled to the brim and we all feel very satisfied that our bodies are ready for the climb out of here. We all stand in a semicircle looking upward into the shaft of stunning light streaming into the cavern, reflecting off all the craggy surfaces below light permeates every dark corner and crevice.

In this early morning bluish light the glistening spray from the pouring water sends sparkly gems down around us below and the green lichen and moss velvety covering of the surfaces shines healthily like botanical grotto. Its magical light show stops us all in our tracks, it’s like the feeling when you visit a cathedral for the first time and light pours in through the stained glass, breath-taking and magnificent. Its high vaulted ceiling so far above our heads, and any in our posse who prayed, did so right then. An appropriate humbling quality falls over us as we ready ourselves for our escape.

Stan speaks first, “lets climb up onto this pile of rock, it looks quite easy.” He glances at the Professor, “would you agree Nigel? Naturally we all look at Nigel, longing for his opinion to the affirmative, we were not disappointed.

Looking up at the elliptical opening high above us, “yes,” he pushes his glasses onto his face, “I can work my way up the south side, I see some finger and toe holes I can use.” He pushes his glasses back up his nose again, his head moving side to side to spot the best route. Then he points up, “I can use anchor points there, and there, use a ‘camming’ device on the overhang there and round there.” I wonder if he knows nobody is actually listening? I’m too polite to point it out. He carries his dialogue along, “use some ‘wires’, or ‘nuts’ as they are sometimes called,” he scans the group as if he’s in a lecture hall. Looks forward, we all pretend to care, “I’ll fix a ‘daisy’ between those two fixes,” then his voice trails off into a whisper, all to himself, “and we’ll have ‘cord’ all the way up to make it easier for everyone to follow.”

“Will it take everyone's weight?” Asks Kurt. “I’m not a small man.” Liza laughs at him, jabs him jokingly in the ribs with her elbow, flipping her ponytail enjoying herself. He mock steps back in pain, and between them love is blossoming.

“its tensile strength should lift a baby elephant without a problem, so a few of us in series should be fine.” He answers so matter of factly that we all trust his judgement implicitly, and we do, because what other option do we have?

TC: “Boys OK?” Please be by your phone.

JG: “All fine here, sunny today, rug-less and muddy horses.” they'll be having a ball.

TC: “Thanks Jinni Tx” I miss home.

Stash phone, try to concentrate. Look up, bloody hell, where's my flask?

I cannot wait to be topside. To see the vast sky, smell the air, hear the birds. “We will go up first to set the ‘nuts’” adds Stan gesturing at Nigel, “we’ll get everything roped, pull our way out and anchor the rope ends, on the surface.” Looking baffled but prepared to try I pay attention to all the climbing lingo, but I only have a five second attention span unless its horse, Daniel, curry or denim related, so I don’t remember anything, and definitely wouldn’t pass a multiple choice test.

“Here, I’ll pass ‘karabiners’ out to everyone,” as indicated by Stan, “and you can fasten yourselves onto the main ‘cord’ and we’ll show you how to work it as you climb.” he continues. After a quick demonstration, and a physical demonstration speaks a thousand words to me, monkey see monkey do. We all get the gist and pack all our stuff into our backpacks, attach everything to our bodies with all the clips and straps those things invariably come with so we are single secure units.

Stan and Nigel climb above with the agility and fearlessness of a mountain goat, they arrive at the summit of the rock pile quickly, I am next, Daniel behind me, Liza behind him and Kurt at the back.

“Getting a good view of my arse Kurt?” Jokes Liza to lighten her own mood, she doesn’t like heights, despite her horse being over 17hh. He hums’ as if he doesn’t understand what she means, but his attention clearly eases her nerves. “That seat,” she reminds him, “wins prizes.” true dressage competition story.

“Quelle surprise!” He says in a very phony French accent, “it’s a great view from down here,” he chuckles, winking at Liza's ascending award-winning arse, and unashamedly admiring the retreating form.

By the time Kurt reaches our platform at the top of the rock, Nigel and Stan are already only a few metres from the rim. We all watch in amazement as these two men climb. Nigel is in his early 70's, and he moves like a teenager, swinging from anchor points as he attaches ropes and nuts into the cracks and crevices of the surface of the rock. He's wearing a type of safari short to just below his knee and his calves are large and hairy, it'll be my turn to climb soon, hope it’s not too hairy, did you see what I did there, hairy and hairy? Clever eh?

In another twenty minutes Stan is out and has offered Nigel his strong hand to help him the last few feet. He swings his leg over the edge and the rest of his body follows. They sit with their legs dangling and swinging over the edge like kids at a playground, “you were right Stanley, that was great!” Nigel unscrews his flask lid and pours a cupful of hot steaming dark brown brew. “Come up guys, its tea time!” That’s all I need to hear, and I have the chocolate biscuits too. ”Nigel and I will save you a spot up here,” he bites hungrily into a KitKat. That does it!

Stan looks up and behind him, “that’s odd,” he says quietly, but the sound travels down where we're standing, echoing off the walls. Stan and Nigel look at each other, “come up now, we’ve just been buzzed by a helicopter up here, he came quite low, could be bad guys. “Just like I showed you, if you get tired, stop, use your ‘karabiner’ like I showed you, you can cling to the rock face until you gain your strength back.” Nigel makes it sound so easy, and I’m already on my way, and I won't be stopping to admire the view either, I want out!

We don’t need any more encouragement, I for one couldn’t give a toss about any chopper I just want out, to see the sky and breathe air, to feel breeze on my face again, to feel the life come back to my bones. Not used to long periods of inactivity the last 24 hours have made me very fidgety, and although never in my wildest imaginings did I think I would ever be climbing, I decide my fear about it was outweighed by the fear of being stuck down here. I have strong arms and legs from riding strong horses, playing the drums and carrying bales of hay, and it plays in my favour. Because though I haven't a clue what I am doing, I scale to the surface quickly, Stan and the professor are calling words of encouragement from the rim. But the cries just join the mess of loud cries my own voices are making, chattering away inside my cranium. Within an hour we were all out of the pit as it looked from above, sitting around the edge with our legs hanging down drinking tea and eating chocolate bars. Life is good.

TC: “Mum, do you think I’d look good with a fringe?” I look at my reflection in the screen of my phone.

EC: “Only if you remember to comb it” I asked for that didn't I? She does have a point.

TC: “Love you Mum” true.

EC: “You OK?” Couldn't be better.

TC: “Will be heading home in a day or two, how's the weather?” Quite warm here, I tie my hair up off my neck in a pony.

EC: “Sunny today but I think we're getting snow next week, what's all this about Catharine?” She's good.

TC: “Love you Mum” she knows.

EC: “See you soon then?” She's good.

More tea anyone? I ask.





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