Apologize, Apologize! - By Elizabeth Kelly Page 0,54

would destroy He first makes itchy as hell.

“Over here!”

I looked up. It was Bingo. I heard him whoop delightedly. I saw the top of his head, and then he disappeared. The others were laughing.

“Jesus, Bing, you asshole!” I said as I stood looking down at him in disbelief.

He shone his flashlight in our direction from where he stood in the darkness about eight feet below. He’d found an opening in the limestone and he’d jumped, without thinking, without discussing it with anyone, he’d just leapt in. I couldn’t believe it.

“It’s awesome down here,” he said.

I was bent over the hole and staring down at him.

“Come on. Jump,” he said.

“Are you crazy? How do we get back out?” I yelled down. “How the hell are you going to get out?”

“Oh, Collie, there are a million ways out of here. What are you so worried about? I can see light way down at the end of this big cavern. At the worst we can always just follow the water to the river opening. Come on, Erica, I’ll catch you. You can do it. Jump.”

Erica hesitated for a second, giggled nervously, closed her eyes, and let fly.

“One, two, three . . .” Rosie followed, landing with a loud thud.

“Hey, I felt the earth really move for the first time,” Bingo joked. “Come on, Collie. It’s fine. There’s light streaming in. I can see it down round the bend.”

“Bingo’s right,” Rosie said, his flashlight illuminating his face. “You know how porous these caves are. There are openings all over the place.”

I hesitated. I was thinking about something, and for the life of me I can’t remember what it was. I’ve gone over every moment of that day a thousand times in my head, so thoroughly that I can account for every second, but no matter how I try, regardless of what tricks I play on myself, I can’t remember what I was thinking at the precise moment before I jumped.

Mostly I remember following the trail laid down by Bing’s laughter.

“Are you finished?” I asked as Bing emerged from the darkness, his knees covered with mud, yellow dust in his hair, his eyes shining like an oil lamp, Erica trailing him, this ever-loving girl, this obliging mattress he’d found somewhere on the way and insisted on dragging along.

“I think I’m in love,” he said, full of high spirits. Clapping both hands around my head and dragging me into him, he kissed me as Rosie and Erica hooted in shock and delight.

“Come on, Collie, let’s fuck!” he shouted, and even amid the ensuing hilarity, no one was more amused than he was.

“Yeah, yeah, hey, Shecky, let’s get going.” I gave him an impatient push. “We’ve got to find a way out of here in the next couple of hours,” I said, turning away and starting the meandering trek around the bend and toward the light glimmering somewhere off in the distance.

It was then I noticed Bing limping.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“It hurts,” he said. He had twisted his ankle in the jump.

“What a fucking asshole you are,” I said. “What are you going to do if we have to climb? Damn it, Bing.”

“You’ll help me,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’ll be fine.” He said it as though he meant it, as if he knew it was true, as if he could count on me.

We were navigating a long, narrow pitch down to the level of the streamway. There was a squeeze in the middle that gave us a bit of trouble. Bingo slipped and fell a couple of times as we carried on our journey downstream. Three hours into our trek and his ankle was swollen and bruised and his toes felt cold.

“Ouch,” he said, jumping, grabbing my forearm as I gently felt my way around his foot in the semidarkness.

“Jeez, Bing, I think it might be broken.”

“Nah. It’s just a sprain,” he said, looking over at Erica, pretending to be brave, trying to impress her.

“Oh, and you’d know, of course,” I said. “I’m telling you it’s broken.”

“Poor baby,” Erica said, kissing his forehead.

I reached out and, taking his hand, helped him to his feet. “Put your arm around my neck,” I said.

We hobbled along for a while, Bing making the odd joke, but for the most part he was uncharacteristically quiet, not singing or whooping it up or cracking wise. It was a bit disconcerting, him being so silent.

“How you doing?” I asked him.

“Just leave me here to die,” he said. “I can’t take another