LONG WAY DOWN

By Katy Sundberg

 

 

Going up is a lot harder than going down, Chet thought, as his muscles strained to hold on to the rock. I can’t believe I let Johnny and Marco talk me into doing this.

 

"Come on Chet, you’re holding us up!" Johnny’s voice floated down to him.

 

"Excuse me, but when did you get the stripes on your lapel?"

 

"Can’t you handle it?" Johnny’s voice mocked from above.

 

"I can handle anything you can dish out, Gage!" I hope, as long as it doesn’t kill me first. Why do I let him do this to me? He took a deep breath. This rock climbing is for the birds. Chet snickered at his little joke.

 

"This slope is designed for the beginner, you know!" Johnny called down to him.  He looked up; blinked to clear the sweat out of his eyes, and shouted back.

 

"BITE ME, GAGE!  I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Marco."

 

"I thought you’d like this, Chet." Marco’s voice drifted down, and  Chet reached for a better handhold. "Didn’t you tell me that you wanted to see what was so interesting about it?" He stopped, unsure of his grip; his muscles getting tired.

 

"That’s not what I said. I said I didn’t see what was so interesting about it." He paused a moment. "Is the rope secure?" He asked, a little tinge of fear edging his voice.

 

"Yes, the rope is secure. Come on, Chet, we want to go  home. It’s getting late. The sooner you get up here, the sooner we can leave." The disappearing light was making the shadows lengthen, and there was a slight crispness to the breeze as the sun was setting.. "Hey, Chet what did you do? Stop to talk to a few of your relatives?"  

 

"You are so not funny, Gage." He said, sarcastically.  Panic was starting to set in and it was evident in his voice.

 

"Chet must be tired." Johnny said to Marco.  He yelled down to the other man, "Chet, you okay?"

 

"I’m fine. My muscles don’t want to cooperate."  Johnny ran to his Land Rover, and pulled out his rappelling gear.

 

"Hang on, Chet." Marco yelled down.

 

"Do you actually think that I’m going to let go, Marco?" Chet commented. "Hey, Johnny!"

 

"Yeah, Chet?" He shouted back, tying his rope to the tree.

 

"Do you think you could hurry?"

 

"I’m going as quickly as I can, Chet,"   He went to the edge, and heard the pebbles and dirt roll ahead of him.   As he leaned back; he could see Chet was farther down than expected.   How did he get that far without me knowing it?  Chet clung tightly to his position, his face plastered to the rock face. "I’m on my way down." He tossed the rope over and began his rappel.  "Tighten his slack." Marco nodded, picked up Chet’s line, and pulled it tight. "Chet?"

 

"Yeah, Johnny?" His voice wavering.

 

"How are you doing?" Johnny adjusted himself on the rope.

 

"This rock and I are on a first name basis, does that tell you anything?." There was a tremble in his voice. "I think I’ll take her to that ritzy new place."

 

"Don’t you think she’ll feel uncomfortable?" 

 

"Why?"

 

"She’ll be there with you, won’t she?" Johnny grinned.

 

"Ha ha, Gage." He paused a moment, "Johnny?"

 

"Yeah, Chet?"

 

"How close are you to getting here?"

 

"Real close, why?"

 

"I can’t feel my fingers." 

 

"I’m going as fast as I can, Chet, hang on."  He was close enough to see Chet’s panic-stricken blue eyes. "It won’t do you any good if I get hurt, now will it?”   He watched Chet’s left hand and leg slip from their place on the rock.

 

"JOHNNY!" Chet screamed. His heart sank as he saw his friend loose his grip and begin to fall straight down the cliff face.

 

"MARCO!" Johnny yelled.  He watched, helplessly, as Chet’s body bounced off of the cliff rocks, finally stopping to dangle in the air, unconscious. 

 

The sudden pull on the rope at the top caught Marco off guard, and almost pulled him over the edge. The rope ripped through the tough calluses on his hands.  He pulled back with all he had in him, and he felt the descent stop suddenly.  

 

"JOHNNY!" Marco yelled down.

 

"Yeah, Marco?"

 

"Is he okay?"

 

"I don’t know. Are you doing okay, Marco?" Johnny asked.

 

" My hands hurt, but I’m okay."

 

"You’ll have to go for help.  He banged his head." As he approached he reached over and grabbed Chet’s line and pulled it close to him. On initial assessment, Chet had a large gash over his left eye and an even larger bump over his left ear. He straddled the unconscious man, and pinned him against the rocks.  Johnny placed his feet firmly against the rock.  Feeling along Chet’s arms he found the left was broken. "Can you lower him down?"

 

"How far?" Marco asked. Johnny looked over his shoulder.

 

"I’m guessing about 50 feet. Let me lower myself a little so that I’m under him." He took two steps down, and allowed Chet’s body to slump over on to his shoulder. "Okay, Marco, once he’s down, you go for help.  Will you lower the first aid kit and blanket down?” 

 

"Will do.”

 

Chet moaned in Johnny’s ear. "Don’t move, Chet!" Johnny admonished.

 

"Don’t yell in my ear then." Chet told him.

 

"You always amaze me, Chester B."

 

"I don’t feel so good, John...”  Johnny could feel Chet’s stomach muscles tense up. Johnny mentally screamed ‘NO! NOT NOW!’

 

"I’m gonna hurl," and everything that he had in his stomach came up. "Sorry."

 

"It’s all right Chet. You couldn’t help it." Johnny reassured him. "Do you feel better?"

 

"No."

 

"You did hit your girlfriend hard.”

 

"She made a snide comment about you."

 

 Johnny grinned. "Well, she made a real impression on you!"

 

"If I didn’t hurt so badly, that might have been funny."  Johnny’s feet touched the ground and then Chet’s full weight rested on his shoulder.  "Marco, we’re down."  He carried Chet a short distance and laid him in some grass.

 

"The stuff is on its way!"  Johnny checked Chet’s legs. It seemed the only broken bone he had was the left arm.

 

"Does this hurt, Chet?" he asked as he palpated Chet’s ribcage.

 

"No."

 

"Does your stomach hurt?"

 

"No, my head and my arm are all that hurt." Johnny looked up and saw the blanket and first aid kit, and went over to get them.

 

"Boy, this is bad." Chet whispered to himself.

 

"I’ve seen worse." Johnny was coming back, and flipped the blanket over his friend’s shaking body.   Chet’s teeth chattered as he pulled the blanket up around his neck. Johnny got out bandages and applied direct pressure to the cut to get it to stop bleeding.

 

"Do you have to do that so hard?" Chet asked.

 

"Do you want to bleed to death?"

 

"It would be better than you caving my skull in."  

 

"Marco went to get help. They should be here soon."

 

"Yeah, right, Johnny. I’m not one of your patients that you have to placate.  It took us over an hour to get here."

 

"They’ll send the helicopter." Johnny looked up at the twilight sky.  "I wish you wouldn’t tick off your girlfriends!"

 

"Well, Gage, I used one of your lines on her, and she must have heard it before."

 

"It’s gonna get cold isn’t it?  I hate being cold. When I get cold I can’t get warm again."

 

"Aren’t Irishman supposed to be hot blooded?"

 

"No. Why do you think we are notorious drinkers? We have to drink to keep warm."  His eyes closed.

 

"Hey, Chet, stay with me. I can’t let you sleep."

 

"I’ll tell you what will keep me awake."

 

"What’s that?"

 

"Your snoring." 

 

 Johnny chuckled. "Oh, and your snoring is better?"

 

"I don’t snore."

 

"I know." He lifted Chet’s wrist and took his pulse. "Hey, Chet?"

 

"Yeah, Johnny?"

 

"You think she has a sister?" Johnny smiled.

 

"She who?"

 

"Your girlfriend. Do you think she has a sister?“ He gave the injured man a grin.

 

"Gage, you’re just not funny."  Johnny put his hand on Chet’s stomach and checked his respirations.

 

"I’ll be right back, Chet." He began walking towards the tree line not far from where they were.

 

"Johnny!"

 

"Yeah, Chet."

 

"Don’t leave me."

 

"I want to get a couple of sticks to make a splint for that arm of yours.  I won’t be gone long."

 

"I heard that some Indians are supposed to be migratory…" he smiled through his shivering teeth, "I didn’t want to be left here while you searched for a new place for your teepee."

 

"Ha ha. Is that supposed to get me back for the Irishmen being hot blooded?"

 

"We’re even,"   Johnny returned 10 minutes later and began putting a splint on Chet’s broken arm.

 

"Are you still with me, Chet?"

 

" I … told … you … I’d … never … get … warm."  Johnny grabbed the corner of the blanket and lay down beside Chet.. He ‘spooned’ his body around Chet’s.  "No…body…had…better…find…out…about…this!" Chet chattered.

 

Johnny leaned up to his ear and whispered, "I won’t tell a soul, " He grinned, "as long as you give me the telephone number of your girlfriend."

 

"No…way…G…G…Gage. She’s…all…mine." 

 

"JOHNNY!" Marco’s voice echoed down the mountain.

 

"MARCO? What are you doing back so fast?" Johnny yelled up.

 

"There’s a ranger station about 15 to 20 minutes down the road.  They’re on their way. I’ll meet you guys at Rampart!"

 

>>>51<<<

 

Eight weeks later Chet returned to work, arm healed, cut mended, and feeling very rested. He stepped over to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. He was the first to arrive. He took a drink from his mug and leaned against the counter top. He looked over at Henry sprawled on the couch.

 

"You know Henry, I sure have missed you." He went to the couch and patted Henry’s head. The dog’s big tongue snaked out and kissed his hand. "Aw, Henry. I didn’t miss you that much." He went over to the sink and washed his hand. "That is just gross."

 

The guys came in one by one and sat at the table.  Johnny entered, still in his street clothes, carrying a large rock.

 

"What the…?" Captain Stanley asked. Johnny placed the rock on the table in front of Chet.

 

"What’s this, Gage?" Chet asked as he placed his hand on the rock. Johnny grinned at him.

 

"Your girlfriend says Hi and wants to know why you haven’t called." He left the room, whistling.

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

Click on the rope to send Katy feedback

 

Guest Dispatchers       Stories by Katy Sundberg