It’s been a while since it happened, and I was starting to wonder if I dreamed it. Today, I found the notes I took down there. I don’t even remember writing them.
There is no water in the mine. There isn’t even moisture. It’s hot and dry and dark and oh so terrible. We walk forward, not knowing if there really is an exit ahead of us. We don’t have any other choice.
Richie makes us pee in the water filter, so we can recycle the water back into our bodies. I was embarrassed the first time, but I quickly got over it. At this point, not much water comes out of our urine, but it is clean and refreshing and oh so good. What is filtered out is a sort of yellow powder, which we discard behind us like scattered breadcrumbs.
I’d love some breadcrumbs right about now. I’d love any food right about now. I’m so hungry, and thirsty, and tired. I wish I needed to pee, but I don’t. The last time I had water, it was less than a mouthful. I wish I had held it in my mouth for longer, savored it. I was desperate to have it in me though, and I gulped it down all at once.
Richie is quiet. I know he feels guilty. This was his idea, exploring the abandoned mine. He said it would be fun, and I enthusiastically agreed. He loves this sort of thing, exploring unknown places. I knew it would make him happy to have me with him. I always want Richie to be happy.
My friends say we’re codependent, but they don’t get it. Richie takes care of me in a lot of ways. He cooks for me and reminds me to take my ADHD meds. I should probably be taking my pills right about now, but they’re back at the apartment.
I take care of him in other ways. I remind him that his ideas are valued and his desires matter. He lights up when I compliment him or show interest in something he cares about. Okay, so we’re a little codependent. There are worse things to be.
I don’t have it in me to be mad at him. There’s nothing to be mad about, really. Accidents happen. Mine shafts collapse. Rocks block exits. It’s nobody’s fault.
I wish we’d told someone where we were going. That would have been smart. Well, like my dad’s always reminding me, I’m not smart. When it comes to test tubes and microscopes, I’m Mr. Know It All. When it comes to common sense, I’m a dunce. We should have told at least one person.
We don’t have any service down here, obviously, or calling for help is the first thing we would have done. Still, the warm blue glow of my phone is a comfort to me. I check for a signal every three seconds. When the battery dies, we will be in total darkness. There is nothing down here that emits any sort of light.
My battery was fully charged at the beginning of the hike, but it won’t last forever, not even on battery saver mode, especially not with me having the screen on constantly. Still, I can’t bear to let the dark overtake us for more than a second at a time. It is suffocating in its oppressiveness. The light is like oxygen, and I need it to live.
I need light, and I need water, but there is no water. I stop and put my hand to my head. I feel a little lightheaded. Richie puts his hand on my back. “Let’s rest for a minute. We won’t improve our situation any by running ourselves into the ground.”
I sit down and close my eyes. I let the screen go dark while my eyes are closed. I pretend that on the other side of my eyelids is the blazing sun. I pretend my eyes are closed to protect my sight from blinding light. I pretend I’m not trapped in a mine.
The delusion ends. I look up to see Richie, standing right in front of me. He’s so quiet. I didn’t even hear him approach. He’s always been like that, soft-footed.
Richie holds out the water filter. Inside is that sweet liquid, more precious than gold. I grin. It’s such a beautiful sight that I want to weep.
“Drink up,” Richie whispers.
I frown. “We gotta keep our water in us, remember?” Richie had told me that in the beginning, not to waste spit, urine or even sweat. Everything needs to go into the water filter.
“You need to drink your water,” I remembered him saying. “You need to keep as much inside of you as possible. That’s how we’ll survive.” We might die anyway, but he was right.
“It isn’t mine,” he explains. “I found some moisture on the wall back there.” He points back in the direction we came. “I collected all of it while you were resting. I already drank half.”
I try to hold it in my mouth, to savor it, but it all goes down my throat at once. I’m so thirsty. I need it. I want to cry with happiness, but I won’t. That would be wasteful. “Thanks, babe.”
He smiles at me, and in the soft blue phonelight, he is the most beautiful thing in the world to me. I love him, even if he is the reason I’m trapped down here. I’ll love him even if it kills me, which it almost did when my dad found out about his “pervert” son. Richie always looks out for me. He could have kept the water to himself and not said a word, but he never would. He’s good like that.
“We should keep going,” I say with great reluctance.
Richie offers me a hand, and I let him pull me to my feet. I almost drop my phone. I catch it at the last second, relief coursing through my veins. I stare at the ground where my phone, that last link to the precious light, almost shattered. I frown.
There, on Richie’s heel, like he stepped in it, is a fine coat of red powder.