Comedy and Fiction

The Sleeping Stal

Julian Todd

Last night I had a dream, and in this dream I knew a woman who owned some private land up on the hillside with a little cave in it. I was very interested in this cave, and over the years I pestered her and pestered her until one fine day she provisionally agreed to take me there and show me around.

Now this woman had some strange ideas about caving and, in spite of taking everything a little too personally at times, she didn't really know her way around. So when I followed her down past the entrance chamber, which was grand and very barren in an artistic sort of manner, we got lost.

Now I would say I've enjoyed going down a few caves in my time. Some are hard, and some are easy, and in some you risk falling a long way if you make a wrong move, but almost always it's a sociable occasion; as a team you balk at the difficult bits, run through the easy bits, and help each other up the tough climbs. This woman didn't share that sort of attitude. For example, I would be sliding headfirst down into a hole with mud at the bottom, get a face full of the stuff and then have to crush and wiggle my body round an unbelievably tight corner with water running down my neck. I'd naturally curse and swear at it as I went through and at the other side this woman would be saying things like: "I can tell you're not liking it, do you want to turn back?" I'd say, "No." And she'd say, "It doesn't sound like you want to be here. Wouldn't you rather be outside on the surface drinking cups of tea instead?" "Absolutely not," I'd reply, and then I'd stand up in the chamber and see the most amazing sights ahead of me in the dim flicker of my light. It would leave me speechless.

This woman would then lead me on into another even more difficult bit, and after slightly more of my usual cursing and swearing that I do when I am undergoing a certain amount of pain, I soon learned that it was better to bite my tongue and keep quiet, than have to say, "No, I don't want you to take me back out, I really really am enjoying it," all the time.

After a while this change in procedure got the better of my mood and I was more grim-faced and broody than I usually am in the situation.

Finally things got really hard and I found myself crawling into a duck with not a lot of airspace at the top. The water was extremely cold and her movements in the puddle beyond sent waves crashing over my face and nearly drowned me. I got through and shouted, "Jesus Christ, I only just got out of that one alive!"

"Well, don't blame me," she said testily. "You're the one who insisted on coming this far!"

"I'm not blaming you. I've just been through a very difficult section; I'm allowed to whinge about it. Sometimes," I said, "I don't think you've really got the idea of this whole thing. I mean, this is an excellent cave. I really do love it. So what if there are some difficult bits. I wouldn't have it any other way. Without them you would have nothing but a dull dark hole even a school kid could go into. As it is, it's got a whole lot of character, and I really appreciate it."

This woman didn't say a word. She just looked at me with a seedy expression.

I said, "Well, if you'll excuse me I'll just carry on a bit further." I went round the next corner and saw a sight of such splendour I had not dreamed could have existed before. Bright formations were stacked up on top of each other to the ceiling on like melons on an overblown fruit stall. There were waterfalls, and stalactites and crystalline minerals growing like cabbages off the floor. Unfortunately in the way was a deep dark hole. And then my light went out.

I scrambled back down the passage behind me and met her again, me with my now dead light. She said with a note of apology, "It had to happen eventually. It was never destined to last."

"What are you talking about?" I cried. "This light could have gone on another six hours if I'd charged it properly. And I would still be going on if I had remembered to bring a backup light. The fact that it has gone out now is irrelevant. It has no meaning."

Her blue eyes stared and burnt holes through my imagination, and she said something, but I couldn't hear it because my dream world started to clear away like smoke from a firecracker. I could not hold onto it for one moment longer, and I was rapidly left alone, lying in my bed at 5:30am.

One side of me said comfortingly, "Don't worry, it's only a dream." But the other, more canny, side said, "It's a dream: everything in it is significant."