The bottom of the hole

They had stolen the old man’s rope and he saw them take it.  His boat had been tied up in slip #18, like it always had.  He chased them for a bit but knew he’d never keep up with them.  At best he hoped he could just follow to see where they were going with it.   Following their trail wouldn’t be hard, as every so often he’d spot one of their Tootsie Roll wrappers. 

Their path led to a clearing in the woods where he saw one of the boys toss the heavy rope into an open pit.  Out of shape and out of breath the old man slumped against a tree and just watched as each boy climbed onto a ladder and disappeared down into the hole.  Now I’ve got you, he thought.    Slowly he made his way over to the open hole and peered in.  Nothing but darkness.  He stood quietly and listened for their voices but nothing.  No noise, no echoes, nothing.  What could they possibly want with my rope, he muttered. 

What the little thieves didn’t realize was that dried blood on the rope would tie the old man into something he didn’t want to explain to anyone.  He desperately needed to get it back.

Tod, Mickey and Preston were not really bad kids, but whenever together, Mick seemed to have an influence over the other two.  There was nothing about the rope they needed but seeing it hang from the side of the boat was somehow too tempting and nothing more than an impulse caused them to snatch it and run.

Once the old man took chase, however, all they wanted to do was get rid of it and split off in different directions.  Their hasty decision to toss the rope into the hole and then follow it in would quickly turn into more adventure than any of them wanted.

As the old man looked into the blackness of the hole, he realized his troubles were over.  The rope was gone.  It had been stolen and now no one could ever tie it back to him.  He didn’t know where it was or what had happened to it.  He simply smiled and walked away from the hole and back to the docks.  Those pesky kids had done him a favor.

By the time the old man had made it back to Slip #18, where his boat, Desperate Measures, was tied he had come to the realization that those little hoodlums just might get hurt down in that hole and if anything happened to them, they’d be found with his rope.  That was an even bigger nightmare than he cared to think about.  He knew he had to go back and get them out.  He just wasn’t sure how.

The story, The Promise, as it appears in my book, The Pantry, left too many people asking what was in the hole.  I wrote the above story to provide a possible background to The Promise.