
* * *
After about ten minutes of walking, I stood in awe of the large maple tree which held a formation of rock within its grasp. Below the network of roots, an opening led into the darkness of a cave. It felt sacrosanct. I desperately wanted to seek out permission to enter, even though no human, bird or beast had ever challenged my presence before.
Carefully, I took a few steps forward. My heartbeat slowed. I did not feel the urge to return to the sunlight. This was a homecoming.
Many years ago, an underground spring had found its way to the cave’s uneven floor and formed a small reflecting pool. An opening in the stone and dirt ceiling allowed for the blue-sky radiance to be mirrored in the still water.
The sounds of the outer world didn’t exist in that semi-darkness, only the drip, drip, drip of the condensation as it fell from above.
I didn’t grab the flashlight from my jacket pocket until I had to. I’d reached the point where the sunlight was not allowed in. Many years ago, my sister and I had claimed this cave as our secret. As a witness to our pact, we had left our hand prints on one of its rock walls, using the kind of paint reserved for restoring tractors. As if by instinct, I directed the flashlight to the exact spot where we had left our marks on a flat section of pale stone.
Time had faded the bold hue of red, but had given the images the impression of belonging to their environment. I placed my hand over my sister’s small mark. “I hope you don’t mind that I always come here instead of the cemetery,” I whispered. “That’s not the place your spirit would have chosen. I sense you are here. I have kept our promise. No one else knows about the cave. Remember how much you liked heart-shaped stones? I’ve brought you another one. They’re not so easy to find anymore.” I held my offering in the palm of my unsteady hand. I crouched down, low to the floor of the cave, adding the newest stone to the existing pile. “I hereby renew our sworn declaration. You are the true keeper of the cave, as you shall always be.”