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bottom. He jumped back down on the floor and continued walking on, illuminating the darkness ahead of him.
After a while, he came upon another coal wagon, also on the left outgoing rail, this one filled with half hardened sand. As he stepped down and played the beam further into the tunnel, he saw dark masses, wagon-like, in the distance ahead, on both sides of the tunnel.
He stopped walking for a moment, beginning to wonder what the officer had brought in and where he had hidden it. Whatever it was, it was not so small that he could have missed it on his way in. He recalled that the wagon the three men were pushing was on the incoming rail, on the right hand side of the tunnel.
He also figured the wagon could not have been driven any further than the next stationary wagon he could barely see in the distance. That meant the officer might have hidden his treasure somewhere near it, the contents being too heavy to carry by hand.
He began to run toward the next wagon while illuminating the floor and both walls ahead of him. He was getting close to it when he noticed a grey iron door on the right wall. He guessed that there would be another one a distance away, also on the same side, and he thought he could see it.
He stopped running and walked to the first one. It was fairly rusted, flush with the wall, and shaped like the opening on a dog house, three to four feet high and equally wide. There was a handle on the door and he tried to turn it, but it wouldn't budge, going neither up nor down.
He looked around the floor and found a half of a brick next to the wall. He placed the flashlight on the floor, pointing at the door, and picked up the brick. He banged up and down on the handle, until it finally gave a rusty squeak and moved. He threw the brick away and turned the handle. The door was ready to open.
ā€œWhat are we doing here, boy? Hunting for State property?ā€ a manā€™s voice boomed from behind him.
ā€œNothingā€¦just curiousā€¦if any good shovels and lamps are still in there,ā€ a thoroughly surprised and scared Ben replied without turning.
The man had pointed the harsh beam of the lamp right at his head and now lowered it. Ben stood up, then turned trying to see the stranger and hoping it wasnā€™t the officer or one of the soldiers heā€™d been observing earlier. But the man was in the dark and held an especially strong flashlight in his right hand, now pointed downward. Ben couldnā€™t see either him or his face clearly.
ā€œYou come here often, kid, looking forā€¦shovels?ā€ the man asked, now standing next to him. ā€œYou wonā€™t mind if I join you, I need a couple of abandoned shovels myself,ā€ he added while giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder with his left hand. ā€œWe can look together, right? Find more shovels that way. Maybe even a good pick.ā€
Ben didnā€™t like the tone of the strangerā€™s voice. But the worst he could think of was being beaten up by the big man. He shrugged. He was prepared for anything. And if they were to lie to each other, it was no big headache either, except that the man might not wish to share the shovels or whatever he was after. He might want to takeā€™em all for himself. And that thought began to worry him.
ā€œSure, sure,ā€ he quickly replied, ā€œI was trying to open this door, but the handle wouldnā€™t budge. It was rusted. But now itā€™s open, let me seeā€¦ā€
ā€œNah, donā€™t bother with that one, boy. Lock it. Thereā€™s nothing in there weā€™d be interested in,ā€ the man said and moved ahead toward the next door in the wall, as if already knowing where the picks and shovels worthy of his interest might be hiding.
ā€œYou from around here?ā€ the man asked, as he walked ahead, obviously no immediate threat to Ben.
ā€œFrom the villageā€¦an hour by bike,ā€ he said. ā€œMy Dadā€™s a doc,ā€ he added spontaneously, not quite sure why he lied, possibly to impress upon the stranger he wasnā€™t playing games with just some ordinary kid.
The man half stopped and turned. Ben was now able to size him up and see his face for the first time. He didnā€™t look all that tall, and his smile seemed rather friendly. He had bushy, curly hair and was dressed as a soldier, but without a cap. Ben froze for an instant, speechless, wondering if he was asleep and having a bad dream.
ā€œWhat a coincidence. Iā€™m a soldier and I used to help in the infirmary. It seems your father and I have something in common. Glad to have met you, kiddo,ā€ the man said and turned his back to him again, continuing to walk toward the next door in the wall.
ā€œI wonderā€¦at your age,ā€ the man continued talking as they walked on, ā€œIā€™d be looking for guns and ammoā€¦not for shovels and picks. For bayonets and pistolsā€¦soldiers stoleā€¦and hid somewhere in here. Thatā€™s what Iā€™d be looking forā€¦myself.
ā€œAm I right about youā€¦son? You looking for pistols? You watched me and the other two push in that wagon and now youā€™re here to find the loot we hid somewhere in here. Tell the truth, no shame in itā€¦I was the same way when I was young. I wonā€™t tell your dad, cross my heart,ā€ the man added, chuckling.
They walked quietly for a while and reached the next enclosing. Without turning, the stranger grabbed the door handle, yanked it up and the door opened a sliver. He pulled it open some more, but not completely. He shined his flashlight into the cavity and almost immediately turned to Ben.
ā€œYou mind staying where you are? I think Iā€™ve found what I wanted.ā€
Ben could see that the man didnā€™t like him too close and stayed where his last step brought him, a couple of meters from the door.
ā€œTurn around,ā€ the man now said.
Ben turned around, away from the door. There was no point arguing with a soldier, probably an armed soldier.
After the noise of many things being moved, thrown around, Ben heard the door slam shut and the handle squeak locked.
ā€œAll right, thatā€™s it,ā€ the man spoke again, ā€œletā€™s go.ā€
Without turning, Ben began walking back. A few steps later, the soldier was abreast with him, lugging two suitcases in his hands. From his heavy breathing, Ben figured the two bags had to be heavy though they didnā€™t seem that large. Just cowhide traveling suitcases similar to those he had seen at home.
They had walked back, almost to the tunnel entrance, when the stranger stopped and dropped both suitcases on the floor. Ben stopped too.
ā€œYou said your fatherā€™s a doc?ā€ The man asked.
ā€œYesā€¦I mean heā€™s a vet. He works on animalsā€¦ see?ā€ Ben muttered, embarrassed.
The soldier turned to face him. Even in the dimness of the half dark tunnel, Ben could see seriousness on the manā€™s face and froze.
ā€œThatā€™s all right, boy,ā€ he said. ā€œWe all lie from time to time. To impress someone orā€¦Look, I hope youā€™ll understand what Iā€™m going to tell you. Itā€™s important. Firstā€”youā€™ve never seen me, understand? If someone asks you about meā€”soldiers, policeā€”you never saw me in your life. Understood?
ā€œSecond, you have to take me to your home, to your dad. Youā€™ll tell your dad that someone has something very important to talk about with him. Iā€™ll stay outside until he comes out. Understood? Now, we go back to my truck and drive to your parentsā€™ house. If your dadā€™s not at home, tell your mother Iā€™ll be waiting for your dad. Iā€™ll talk to her until your dad comes back home. Now, letā€™s move.ā€
Ben was unsure of what to do, though plenty frightened by the seriousness in the manā€™s voice. Still, he could not leave his fatherā€™s bicycle in the tunnel, someone would steal it. He told that to the soldier, and the man didnā€™t seem too bothered.
ā€œWeā€™ll take your bike with us, in my truck. Go get it,ā€ he told him.
Ben half ran to his bike, pulled it away from the wall and pushed it toward the soldier now waiting for him.
ā€œLetā€™s go,ā€ the man said. Moments later, they were out of the darkness, into the sunshine. The very bright sun was surrounded by a few tiny clouds. He could hear birds twitter all over. He felt almost as weak as he felt after his last cold, after it was finally gone. His mother had measured his temperature every few seconds, and he thought he was burning alive and had very bad dreams every night.
As they walked out, Ben saw an old, dusty, grey army truck parked to the left of them at the mouth of the tunnel. They walked to it, the soldier now leading and when they reached it, he heaved the baggage up into the back of the truck, then turned and lifted Benā€™s bike and placed it on top of it.
ā€œGood,ā€ he said, looking down at Ben, ā€œnow, letā€™s go, friend. You tell me where to drive,ā€ he added, smiling.
Once they were seated in the truckā€™s cab, the smell of gasoline strong, overpowering, the man turned to him again. ā€œLook,ā€ he said, ā€œIā€™m now AWOL. You know what AWOL means? It means I abandoned my unit, Iā€™m a deserter. Means they can shoot me on sight if they ketch me. Itā€™s war time.ā€
As Ben looked at him, he saw that the man was blond, like his own family. And he looked young, though not as young as his brother Tom was, while he was still alive and kicking, before he died of TB.
ā€œWhatā€™s in those bags youā€™ve found?ā€ he asked the man.
The soldier half turned to him, now smiling mischievously, ā€œHuh?ā€¦Just gold, just goldā€¦nothing really,ā€ he said. Ben felt his face go red-hot because the man was obviously trying to make a fool of him. ā€˜Yeah, just gold,ā€™ he thought to himself. ā€˜More like brand new shiny, oily pistols and ammo, but he wonā€™t tell meā€¦bastard.ā€™
ā€œIā€™m Andris, whatā€™s your nameā€¦friend?ā€ The man asked him.
ā€œBensā€¦well, Bendiks actually, but they all call me Ben,ā€ he told the AWOL soldier and whatever else he was. All of a sudden, he felt very uncomfortable sitting next to him. Especially, in the soldiersā€™ truck.
ā€œBendiks, haā€¦but Ben,ā€ the man muttered without smiling.
All that happened during the last days of war.
******

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Text: Steven Nedelton
Publication Date: 02-10-2012

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