Free Lost at Running Brook Trail by Sheryl A. Keen Page A

the other two following. The sky was now a mixture of yellow, orange and splashes of red but still weirdly bright.
    “Those bats might be back to drain our blood.”
    “Hey, stop that!” Elaine turned to Susan. “Why do you insist on making mountains out of molehills? Every little thing is Armageddon. They’re not coming back. Bats don’t feed on human blood, and those bats that you’re talking about live only in Central and South America. We are in Canada, for Pete’s sake. Get a grip!”
    “How do you know this?” Susan sounded skeptical.
    “From books.”
    “Books …” Susan repeated the word as if she wasn’t sure any reliable information could come from such a source. As they approached the cave, she adjusted her eyes to avoid contact with the drawings. Of course when she did this all that was left to look at was the darkness of the cave or the darkening sky.
    Elaine held the lighter again as they entered the cave, each dragging branches behind her. Miriam still had the iPod but Kimberly said nothing. Susan, as was now the custom, was the last one to enter the cave and drop her branch on the growing bed. They went in and out of the cave until the “mattress” was finished. They stood over the bed and looked down at the thing they had constructed. The flame of the lighter and the small square light of the iPod cast lights and shadows over the odd installation piece.
    They left the thing there to the front and centre of the cave and sat on the rocks just outside the cave. They would pass the time until night fell and were forced inside.
    “We have nothing to cover with.” Elaine took a scarf from her bag and tied it over her cornrows. She made a triangle first, placed it on her head, felt with her hands that it was on right and then made a knot at the back.
    “What’s with the scarf?” Miriam asked.
    “I have kinky hair. If I don’t tie this thing down”—Elaine pointed a finger at her head—“it will be sticking up all over the place tomorrow. And now that we’re out here, it’s come in handy because it will protect my head against the cold.”
    “Lucky you.” Susan would have appreciated the cool air earlier in the day, but now it was unwanted.
    “So back to the cover situation,” Elaine said. “We could make a cover from leaves, but that’s too much to think about, much less to do right now. I have a sweater; does anyone else?”
    “Why would you have a sweater?” Miriam asked.
    “Because I heard that temperature varies in these parts even in the day. So anyone else have one?”
    Kimberly rummaged around in her bag and came out with a grey sweater with pink stripes around the sleeves. “As you can see, I have one, but why do you need to know? Are we going to make a sheet out of it?”
    The sunset made strange abstract shapes in the sky.
    “Funny,” Elaine said. “I’m going to wear my sweater and sleep at one end and you might want to give Susan your sweater so she can sleep at the other end.”
    “Why me?” Susan jumped off the stone that she was sitting on. “Why do I have to sleep at the end?”
    “Susan, you don’t have to do anything. It’s just practical that you would have more body heat. I’m sleeping at the end too, remember?”
    “It’s because you’re fat!” Kimberly said. “And now because of that I’m going to lose a perfectly good sweater! She’s going to stretch it out, you know. It won’t be of any use to me after she puts it on.”
    Miriam jumped off her rock and started for Kimberly, but Elaine blocked her. “Just cool it.”
    Miriam paced back and forth, not knowing what to do, while Susan sat with her head down.
    Elaine looked at Kimberly and thought about what she could say to her. It all seemed futile with this girl. There would be no appealing to her better nature. What could she say to an abnormal person? Should she even bother? And why didn’t Susan respond?
    “I’m sure my words will simply fall into the dry, hard earth or dissolve