“I’ve got an idea,” I said.
I scanned the group around me, their faces barely discernable and tinged with green. “Probably a stupid idea,” I admitted.
Jorge snorted, obviously expecting no less.
“Let’s hear it,” said Kelvin.
The plan grew and altered as I spoke it. It began as a way to keep the vinnies out of the tunnel, but then it transformed into something crazy: a plan I began to doubt even as it formed. Everyone else just got excited and egged me on, which I suppose is how bad things tend to happen.
The allure of the idea was that we would be in the tunnel for as little time as possible, minimizing the chances of encountering another stampede-causing earthquake. A handful of us volunteered for the wet work, crawling out into the cold and working in the rain as it soaked us to the bone. Karl used one of the machetes to hack through the thick stems of the largest variety of leaves. The rest of us gathered them and passed them down into the tunnel. There, Kelvin and Leila carpeted the brambles with them, overlapping each leaf with the next as they created a nearly watertight flooring.
Meanwhile, using the other machete, Samson worked on the rise of the plumber’s trap, cutting it out so the water could pass into the tunnel. As he chopped the brambles up, other workers passed the removed pieces along and tossed them through the gear holes further down. Not only did this help remove the hump in the tunnel, the tossed limbs and hacked brambles would make for easy firewood if we could circle around the base of the tree and find them on the ground.
It took almost an hour to complete the work; by then, the rest of the group had rainwater funneling toward the large hole from the depression up top. The low valleys we had avoided while walking came into great use, collecting the rain and forcing it toward our tunnel. Using bits of sticks, we propped up the edges of some leaves to guide even more rain into the tunnel.
Once we were done, we gathered up the large leaves we had set aside and joined the others down past the flattened plumber’s trap. The girls had already carpeted the area Karl had cut out and a steady stream of water flowed through.
Those of us that had worked up top wrung out our clothes while the rest worked to secure our supplies. We distributed one big leaf per couple, with Kelvin agreeing to ride alone with a large tarp full of the majority of our gear.
As we worked, a train of vinnies marched past, all of them as high up the tunnel wall as their bristles could carry them. They were avoiding the rushing stream, just as I’d hoped.
Tarsi and I plopped down on the first leaf, the honor (and risk) of going first given to the person with the dumb idea. Below us, the floor of the tunnel gurgled with flowing water. I sat in front, straddling the stem of the leaf, both my hands on its forward edge and curling it back. Tarsi sat behind me, and we scooted forward, lurching the leaf inch by inch, while Kelvin and Samson shoved from behind.
At first, it felt like the entire endeavor would be a bust. I feared all of us had soaked ourselves to the core and worn ourselves out for nothing. Behind us, someone groaned as we struggled to get the contraption moving, but despite the waxiness of the leaf and the well-worn wood below, there seemed to be too much friction to get going.
Then—imperceptibly at first but growing—our scooting picked up speed. I could almost feel the bond between the leaf and wood slipping as the water eased us along. Behind me, Tarsi quit pushing and wrapped her arms around my waist. I leaned back and yelled for Kelvin and Samson to stop.
We were off. Moving at a walking pace for a few moments, and then faster. And faster.
“Whoa,” Tarsi said, her grip around my chest making it difficult to breathe. I leaned back against her and concentrated on keeping the forward edge of the leaf up. Beside us, the openings in the tunnel flicked past. The rising curve of the round tube kept me from worrying about sliding out, and the tree was so large in diameter, it felt like we were going down a nearly straight chute rather than a tight spiral. The speed, however, quickly became a real concern. Within moments we were moving along faster than a tractor could go. I tried to keep my bearings with quick glances out the holes, but they flickered past so quickly it was like seeing the world through rapid blinks.
“How’re we gonna stop?” Tarsi yelled in my ear.
There were, admittedly, a few steps in my plan I hadn’t fully mapped out.
I considered sticking my foot out against the core side of the tree, then thought about picking splinters out of my sole for the next week. Lowering the front edge of the leaf, I experimented instead with adjusting the shape of the curve, but couldn’t tell that it had any effect. Continuing to unfurl it, I let part of the edge collapse completely, digging into the thin film of water. My reward was a furious spray of rainwater spitting right up in my face. Tarsi ducked behind me for cover, squealing, but our leaf definitely slowed. I played with it some more, then felt something bump into us from behind, nearly causing me to drop the edge of the leaf.
Tarsi squealed and I heard someone grunt and cuss behind us.
“Watch out!”
I turned around and saw Karl and Leila right on our tail. Both had expressions of half fear, half exhilaration on their faces. Tarsi and Leila shouted back and forth, teasing one another.
“Stop goofing off and tell Karl to lower the front into the water,” I hollered back to Tarsi. “Have him slow down and tell the next person.”
She adjusted her grip on my waist and turned to explain it to the others. I kept the edge high and let go of the leaf with one hand to wipe the spray off my face and out of my eyes. We quickly picked up speed again, and I could hear Leila’s yelps of delight recede as Karl slowed his leaf down.
“This is fun!” Tarsi screamed, hugging my chest with affection.
I laughed and tried to gauge our height off the ground to determine what our rate of descent was. Already, in my brief glimpses through the side of the tunnel, I could tell the canopy was receding overhead. I tried to get a read on the distance to the bottom. The best I could tell, we were already a good ways down. Maybe a tenth or so. A train of vinnies whizzed past on the coreward side of the tree and Tarsi and I leaned away as their bristles brushed against us.
“I wanna do this again!” she screamed in my ear.
I thought about the grueling climb up and shook my head. Then I recalled how nice the ride had been on the vinnie once I got over my objections and fears. I started to think that we could get up and down from the canopy without much difficulty—then I remembered the earthquake and the stampede. That returned me to my original doubts and I promised myself I would never leave the ground again if I could just get back there safely.
What took almost a full day going up ended up taking less than two hours on the leaf. I watched the ground outside draw closer and lowered the forward edge, kicking up more spray and slowing us down. Tarsi groaned in my ear with disappointment.
Just before the end of the chute, we reached the edge of a large pool of water where the diverted rain had built up in the tunnel’s dead-end.
We jumped off our leaf and leapt out of the nearest hole, splashing down on the soaked moss. Karl and Mindy slid to a stop right as we got out of the way, laughing and wiping the spray off their faces. We helped them over the lip and stepped out into the dimly lit clearing. Two more riders arrived going much too fast; they slammed into the pool of water and sent spray out several gaps in the bark. Samson and Leila fell out the bottom of the tunnel, over a lip of cascading water, gasping for air and giggling uncontrollably.
Moving out into the rain, I opened the flap on my little tarp sack and peeked inside to make sure its contents had remained dry. Tarsi wrung water out of the bottom of her shirt, her hair plastered across her forehead.
I looked off in the direction of the mountains, but I couldn’t see the mine from our lower elevation. What I
“What’re we gonna do now?” I asked Tarsi.
She shrugged, then looked back toward the tree. “What’s taking the others so long?” she asked.
• 27 •
