The Christmas Cave Read online

  The Christmas Cave

  by David R. Beshears

  adapted from the screenplay

  “The Christmas Cave”

  registered with the Writer’s Guild of America

  Greybeard Publishing

  www.greybeardpublishing.com

  Copyright 2011 by David R. Beshears

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-0-9891764-2-2 (electronic text edition)

  Greybeard Publishing

  P.O. Box 480

  McCleary, WA 98557-0480

  ebook edition

  Copyright 2012 David R. Beshears

  Prolog

  December 27, 1960

  Jenny Miller led the way down the dark tunnel. She held an oil lantern cautiously in front of her, the dull yellow glow pushing out ahead of them. Her younger brother Bill and their friend Mike followed close behind, each carrying a bulky flashlight. The light beams danced as bright sabers, slicing the air and stabbing at the rock walls of the tunnel.

  They had been exploring these tunnels for months, spending most weekends here in the dark, ever since Jenny’s thirteenth birthday party and they heard those stories of that kid from decades earlier.

  Jenny had brown hair braided in long, loose pigtails, wore blue jeans with the cuffs folded up, a flannel shirt and light jacket. Her brother Bill, twelve years old, dressed similar to his older sister: blue jeans and flannel shirt, his brown hair trimmed short.

  Their friend Mike was fourteen years old. He was a tall, lanky black kid, dressed in dark jeans and light colored jacket.

  Jenny came to a sudden halt, forcing the others to come up short behind her.

  “What is it, Jen?” asked Mike.

  Jenny held up a hand for quiet. She listened intently.

  Bill pushed up beside his sister, looked sharply down the tunnel.

  “Is this it?” asked Bill, a harsh whisper.

  “Shhh!” Jenny hissed. “Quiet, Bill.”

  They listened. There was only silence.

  “I don’t hear anything,” said Bill.

  “Me neither,” said Mike.

  Jenny studied the tunnel ahead of them.

  Something…

  She turned down her lantern until there was only a tiny pilot of flame.

  “Turn those off,” she mumbled.

  Bill and Mike turned off their flashlights. The little flicker of light from the lantern wasn’t even enough to show their faces.

  There were only the dark silhouettes of their bodies in the tunnel.

  And the sound… the whisper of a breeze…

  Very faint then, from beyond a bend in the tunnel: a shimmering light, blue and red and yellow.

  “Mike?” Jenny asked over her shoulder.

  “I see it.”

  “That’s it,” said Bill. “We found it.”

  He started forward, moving quickly past his sister. She reached out and took hold of his arm, pulling him to a stop.

  “Oh, no you don’t, little brother.”

  “What?”

  “We go together,” she stated.

  “Then come on.” Bill pulled free and started forward.

  Jenny turned up the lantern, a frustrated big-sisterly look on her face. She stalked after him, Mike beside her.

  “Bill,” she hissed. “Don’t you get lost.”

  Her brother disappeared around the bend in the tunnel.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  A late-model sedan, nice but not extravagant, traveled alone along the winding two-lane mountain highway. The trees covering the rolling hills on either side were a mix of evergreen and deciduous, most of those having lost their leaves several months earlier. The sky overhead was clear and bright.

  Mom and Dad sat in the front seat, Dad behind the wheel. Tom and Olivia Harper were typical middle-class parents from a typical middle-class environment back home. They were dressed casual and comfortable, ready for Christmas vacation.

  Jack, thirteen, and his twelve year old sister Amanda were in the back seat, Jack eyeing his smart phone in frustration. He was a typical suburban kid just entering his teens; all arms and legs, bushy, sandy-colored hair.

  He had the look of a boy unaccustomed to mountains and streams and trees beyond the occasional family camping trip, whereas kid sister Amanda, while from that same suburban neighborhood back home, looked as though she might be a bit more comfortable out in the woods; tomboyish, and with her blonde hair cut short to keep it out of the way.

  Jack frowned and stuffed his cell phone into the side pocket of his light jacket.

  “Still nothin’,” he grumbled.

  Dad glanced once in his rearview mirror. “Sorry about that, Jack,” he said. “It’ll probably come and go up here.” He didn’t know where there might be towers up here. The last time he had been here, there hadn’t been a single one.

  Mom gave a sympathetic smile, but she was inwardly pleased that Jack might not be able to spend the next two weeks hovered over his smart phone.

  Amanda was watching the scene passing her window, Jack his own window. Neither looked all that upset about their situation, but neither appeared particularly excited either. They’d spend the holiday at their grandmother’s, and that was fine with them.

  “Anything to do up there?” asked Jack, still looking out his window.

  “Sure,” said Dad. “Lots of things.”

  Mom shifted position. “Just remember, Jack… we’re here to spend Christmas with your grandmother. You be nice. You behave yourself.”

  “They’ll be fine, Liv,” said Dad. A strange look on his face then. “You know my mother. It’s not her we need to worry about. Or the kids.” A hint of ominous overtone. “It’s us.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Olivia smiled, but the smile faded. “I wish we could spend more time with her.” The kids are missing so much, she thought.

  “She’ll never move off the mountain, and as much as I’d like, there’s no way we can move up here.”

  “I know,” Olivia sighed. She admired the passing scenery for a few moments. “I can’t believe… so many years. The kids were just babies the last time we were up here.”

  “I know. And now…” His words trailed off. He couldn’t finish the thought.

  “It’ll be all right, Tom,” his wife stated. “I’m sure it will.”

  In the back seat, Jack had his cell phone in hand yet again. He frowned, yet again, and put the phone back in his pocket. He spoke to the back of his dad’s head.

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “What, like what?” asked Dad.

  “What is there to do?”

  “Ah,” said Dad, glad of the opportunity to redirect his thoughts. “There’s fishing, swimming, hiking. And you know, I think the Madsen’s have a son just about your age.”

  Amanda piped up for the first time. ‘Will there be snow?”

  “Could be,” said Dad. “We’re too low in elevation to catch much of the heavy stuff, but I remember snow most Christmas mornings.”

  “Cool.” Amanda turned her attention back out her window.

  Dad grew nostalgic, the look on his face much more pleasant than a few moments before. Olivia smiled warmly at her husband.

  Tom glanced over at his wife, gave her a warm smile in return.

  “I do miss this place,” he said.

  §

  Jenny Harper stood waiting on the porch of large mountain cabin. Now in her sixties, she was a handsome woman, her hair gray-streaked and pulled back in a
long ponytail. She dressed in jeans and a comfortable flannel shirt. There was a gleam in her eye, a smile on her face. She was smart, quick-witted, strong willed and independent, all of which showed in her free-spirited manner.

  The entire front of her house was fronted with a covered deck. The open area before her was dirt and grass, with the occasional shrub, and beyond stood the barn and several smaller outbuildings. Forested hills encircled her property.

  The sedan pulled into the yard. She took the top step down from the porch, put her hands on her hips and waited for the family to start climbing out of the car.

  “There ya’ are,” she said. “How was your trip?”

  Tom started across the yard as Jenny took the rest of the steps down from the porch.

  “Hey, Mom.” They met at the foot of the steps and hugged. “Took about five hours. Not too bad. Traffic was light most of the way.”

  Olivia reached them then, more hugs.

  “How are you feeling, Mom?” she asked. Olivia had thought of Jenny as a second mom since the day she and Tom first started dating.

  “I feel fine,” said Jenny. “Really. Just fine.”

  The kids were out of the car and standing halfway between car and cabin. Jenny put her hands on hips once again and grinned. “My, my,” she said.

  “Grown a bit, haven’t they?” Tom observed.

  Jenny’s grin broadened and she called out to the children. “Well, come over here, you two!”

  Jack and Amanda trudged over. Jenny reached out and pulled them both in close.

  “Hey, Grandma,” they both mumbled in unison.

  “Oh, my.” She held them out at arm’s length. “The last time I saw you two, you couldn’t a’ been more’n a foot tall.”

  “Oh, Grandma,” Jack groaned.

  “You say that every single time,” said Amanda.

  “Do I really?” Jenny gave them each a pat on the shoulder, indicated the surrounding hills. “So waddya think of the old homestead? Your dad grew up here, ya’ know. He spent his days out there. Not in front of a television.”

  “I love it,” said Amanda.

  “Me, too,” said Jack.

  Jenny gave them a wary eye. “Good answer. Bright children.”

  Olivia had to snicker. “Oh, they’re going to love it here, Jenny.”

  “Hmm.” Jenny eyed their clothes, their footwear. “I hope they brought along some decent hiking shoes.”

  Tom had made his way back to the car.

  “I made sure of that, Mom.” He opened the trunk, began pulling out travel bags and suitcases. “Okay, guys. Let’s get this stuff inside.”

  Jenny turned Jack and Amanda about and all three worked their way back to the car, Olivia following closely behind them.

  Moments later Jenny led the way into the house carrying a basket of peaches. “These look wonderful,” she said, setting the basket on the table. “They must have been hard to find, this time of year.”

  “You know how Tom is about his peach cobbler,” said Olivia. She set a travel bag onto a wing chair.

  Jack set his own travel bag next to his mom’s, then pulled his cell phone out and anxiously sought a signal.

  “Might as well turn that thing off, Jack,” said Jenny. “No signal within five miles of here.”

  Tom looked nostalgically around the room. It was a large room with living and dining areas, walls and furniture of heavy woods, a large fireplace, thick curtains pulled open and revealing large windows.

  “Man, I sure miss this place.”

  “Whose fault, boy?”

  “Yes, Mom.” He nodded then at the couch. “I see you finally replaced the old couch.”

  “Last Spring. I thought I mentioned it.”

  “You did, Mom,” Olivia said apologetically. “And you sent us pictures of the new one.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Tom said sheepishly. He picked up the two bags he had carried in. “Think I’ll unpack.” He motioned to the children. “You two, end of the hall.”

  “Jack on the left, Amanda on the right,” said Jenny.

  Once Tom and the kids had disappeared down the hall, Olivia joined Jenny at the table, pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.

  “You sure you’re up to this, Mom? We’re a handful.”

  “Absolutely,” said Jenny. “You stop worrying.”

  “Like that’s going to happen.”

  “At least keep the worrying to yourself,” said Jenny. “I don’t want to hear it. This is going to be a wonderful Christmas. Let’s not spoil it.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” Olivia reached out and placed a hand comfortingly on Jenny’s arm. She missed Jenny. Long conversations on the phone weren’t enough. It wasn’t the same.

  §

  Amanda pulled a pair of pants from her travel bag and took them to the dresser. Her bedroom was small, with just enough room for the twin bed, the dresser, and a desk under the window; but it was also bright and cheery.

  Jack came through the door and plopped himself onto the bed, looking dejectedly at his cell phone.

  “Poor Jack,” said Amanda, and she pulled her bag over. “Looks like we’ll have to be a family. You know, like, talk to each other?”

  Jack slid back until he was against the headboard.

  “I can live with that; for very short periods.”

  “Uh, huh.” Amanda looked over at the window. The forest was visible through the glass. “I think we’re going to have a great Christmas. Grandma looks good, considering.”

  “Yep. She does.”

  “Better than I expected.”

  Jack gave a heavy shrug. “Probably a home turf thing.”

  “What?”

  “Home turf,” said Jack. “Home territory. Like Dad says, Grandma doesn’t like to leave the mountain.”

  Amanda drifted over to the desk and pulled out the chair. She sat, leaned nearer the window. The view was amazing.

  Can’t blame her for that, she thought.

  Jack stared down at his smart phone.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Two

  After dinner, Tom and Olivia settled into chairs out on the porch, a pair of coffee cups on the small wooden table between them. The evening was warm for December, but it was still a bit cool, so both wore jackets.

  Tom reached over and picked up his coffee. He glanced once through the window behind them before turning back, cup in hand. Jack and Amanda were inside, sitting at the dining table. They were playing a board game.

  Jack is doing just fine, despite being disconnected from the rest of humanity…

  “That was a great dinner, Liv.” Tom took a sip of his coffee.

  “I didn’t have much to do about that.”

  Tom smiled. “Mom can be a bit controlling in the kitchen.”

  “The kitchen?” Olivia reached over and picked up her coffee, settled back into her chair, warmed her hands with the mug. “She’s holding up well. She’s strong.”

  “No scrawny brain tumor is going to beat Jenny Miller Harper.”

  “It’ll certainly know that it’s been in a fight.”

  That’s for sure, thought Tom. Well, we’ll enjoy the holiday. Afterward, we’ll take Mom down the mountain, they’ll cut the thing out, and we’ll have her back home before the nurses can turn on her.

  Tom had to grin at that.

  Olivia saw the look on his face, and was about to ask him what was so funny, when Jenny came out of the woods, her tall hiking staff in hand. She came across the yard toward the house and stopped at the foot of the steps.

  “Another wonderful evening,” she stated. “A bit warm for December, really.”

  “It’s beautiful,” said Olivia. “And so peaceful. The only sounds are nature’s sounds.”

  The sound then of the kids arguing over one of Jack’s dice rolls came rolling out through the window, right on cue.

  Those outside ignored it.

  “You were gone a while, Mom,” said Tom. “You must’ve gone all the way t
o the creek.”

  “I dropped in to see a friend.”

  A friend? thought Tom. In the woods?

  Jenny climbed the steps, reached the porch. She turned and looked out at the surrounding hills. Her mountain. The sounds of the game going on inside continued to reach out onto the porch. It somehow made the evening all the more pleasant.

  “I think I’ll see if the kids are up to a game of cards,” she said suddenly.

  Olivia watched her turn about and go into the house. Tom could only grin that grin again as he continued to look out at the evening shadows that were reaching in ever closer.

  He took another sip of his coffee.

  §

  The morning was bright and sunny, promising to be another nice day. Jenny came out onto the porch, waited for Olivia to follow her out of the house. She handed her a list.

  “If they’re out of buttermilk, they never keep enough on hand, get plain yogurt. But it’s gotta be plain yogurt.”

  “Got it.” Olivia put the piece of paper into her shirt pocket.

  Tom came through the front door then, stepped around the women and started down the steps.

  “We’re going to drop in and see Carl and Emma on the way back, Mom. But we should be back by noon.”

  “I’ll have lunch on the table,” said Jenny. She called out to them then as they reached the car. “You tell Emma she still owes me three dollars.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He grinned at Olivia. “Poker.”

  Jenny watched from the porch as Tom circled the car about in the yard and started down the dirt drive to the highway. The sound of the car faded and within moments nature crept back in. She looked warmly out at the forest-covered hills, enjoyed the morning breeze, the sunshine.

  A sharp, sudden pain… she grimaced, pressed the heel of her hand to her temple.

  She quickly lowered her hand at the sound of the door opening behind her.

  Jack and Amanda stepped outside dressed for a hike: jeans and warm shirt, hiking shoes. Each wore a light daypack.

  “Okay, Grandma,” said Amanda. “We’re ready.”

  “Let me just have a look,” said Jenny. She inspected their clothes, turned them around, adjusted their packs. “Very good,” she stated, quite precisely.