The Promise

        Just to be different and in part, to explore the new neighborhood, I took a path I’d not tried before.  It didn’t seem as well worn as my usual but it wasn’t completely overgrown either.  The first thing I noticed was the quiet.   The further along I got into the woods the more quiet things became; street noise and the voices of the neighborhood children playing were gone.  I must admit, it happened so abruptly that it was sort of eerie.

         I’m not sure just how far I’d traveled but I could tell the sun was starting to go down as not only was it getting darker but the temperature was dropping.  I thought of turning back but now I was curious as to where this trail came out.  It didn’t appear to follow a straight direction but neither did it feel like I was going in circles.

         I knew I was pushing my luck continuing on as it got darker but I just kept telling myself, just a little farther, just a little bit more.  I really wanted to see where this trail came out.

         As I came to a small clearing I could see a little better.  In the center of the clearing was a good sized hole.  Two ladders, one on each side of the hole led down and disappeared into the darkness.  The ladders were made out of pipe, like you might see leading down into a sewer in the city.  At the time I didn’t even question the fact that there were two.  That should have been my first question, why two ladders?

The hole looked to be about six feet across.  My first thought was to drop something down just to hear how long it took to hit bottom.  I didn’t see any stones or branches around and the only things I had in my pocket was my keys and a small pocket knife.  I really wanted to toss something in the hole.  Maybe there was water and I’d hear a splash.  Again I looked around the clearing but there wasn’t anything.  Then I did the dumbest thing I could have.  I took hold of the top of the ladder, swung my leg around and stepped onto the top rung.

         If I could climb down a few feet maybe I could see a little further down, so I began to climb.  After several feet I could feel the temperature change.  It was getting colder and the ladder itself felt cold.  Every few feet I’d stop and just listen.  My own breathing was all I’d hear and my heartbeat became noticeable.  What the heck was I doing?  I was acting like a child climbing down into this hole.  Just how stupid was I?  No one knew where I was and I’m sure nobody would hear me if I yelled for help.  Suddenly I realized how scared I was making myself, and yet I continued to climb further down into the hole.

         I looked up and the opening of the hole looked to be the size of a quarter.  I had climbed down really far, and I was actually shivering it was so cold.  What was I expecting to find, and how dumb would I feel if I took another step down only to discover there was water?  Then my shoe and sock would be soaked.  How fun would that be to walk home squishing all the way?

         As I hung there on the ladder suddenly I could hear something other than myself.  I froze.  I tightened my grip and tried to breathe as quietly as possible.  What was it I was hearing?  I could feel my heart beating faster.  Slowly I slipped my arms through the rungs, hugging the ladder close to my body, giving my hands a rest from the cold pipe.  I closed my eyes in an attempt to focus totally on listening.  There it was again.  I heard it.  Someone below me was climbing up the ladder across from me.

I could hear them alternating, first a step on a rung, and then silence as their hand grasped the rail, then a step, then silence.  They were getting closer.

         I knew they were on the opposite ladder as I could not feel any vibration as they climbed.  I wanted to say something.  I felt like saying hello but I was too scared.  Probably neither of us was supposed to be here.  If they were a county worker they’d have a hard hat and flashlight – they’d be making all sorts of noise, and grumbling about having to work so late, but they too were trying to be quiet.  Why?

         They stopped.  Neither of us was moving.  Had they noticed me?  If they looked up towards the top of the hole I’d look like some dark obstruction.  If they did have a flashlight surely they would have the thing turned on.  And why didn’t they say anything?  How on earth did I get myself into this mess?

He started to climb again.  Maybe he hadn’t noticed me; maybe he was just resting for a minute.  I stayed put, still hugging the cold rails.  His breathing sounded labored.  It was as if he were struggling to make it up the ladder.

        I couldn’t stand it any longer, I had to say something.  Surely by now he knew I was here hanging on.

        “Are you alright?” My voiced seemed to almost echo.  His climbing stopped. For what seemed like a long time neither of us made a sound.  Finally he spoke, his voice sounding a little strained.

        “Stay where you are.  Don’t come down any further.  I’m coming up.”

        As the old man finally made his way up to where I was, I could see why he had been having such a difficult time climbing.  His left hand was holding tight to a very large diameter rope.  He had struggled so much as he was only using his right hand to climb.

        We both turned slightly so we could see each other, he on his ladder, me on mine.

        “Please, take hold of this – tightly.”  He reached out handing me the rope.  My natural instinct was to help this old man so I took the rope and held it in close to me.

        “I’m going for help, but you must promise me – whatever you do, do not let go of that rope.”  I was about to say something when he suddenly got louder.

        “Promise me!  You’ll hang on tight and not let it drop.”

        I could see his left hand had been bleeding and that he was completely exhausted.  “I promise.” I muttered.

        He looked at me for some time and then turned facing his ladder.  “I’m going for help.” And he again started to climb up towards the opening.

        “What is it attached to?” my voice slightly cracking.

        “Promise me.” was his only reply.

        What had I gotten myself into?  The weight of the rope made it extremely hard to hang onto.  I tried to pull it up higher, maybe get it over my shoulder but I couldn’t.  I also thought of tying it to one of the rungs but I would need both hands.  What could be so important at the other end of this rope?

        I could still hear the old man making his way to the top.  I wondered what kind of help he was going for, and how long was I to stay here like this?   I almost thought I heard him say something but I wasn’t sure. 


       As I hung there I tried to listen to see if he’d repeat whatever he said, but there was no more communication from the old man.  There was, however, two short tugs on the rope.