The Tunnel

It was the hottest day of the year. We had spent the day at the pool, indulging in the cool water, letting it wash away the heat and sweat that had baked into our skin. Alternating between the water’s embrace and snacking in the shade, hours melted away, leaving hair brittle and skin warm with the promise of sunburn. This was the time of year I looked forward to the most, spending the day at the pool before settling into Emily’s apartment. We’d inevitably make our way to the cement pad past the church and begin our nighttime ritual. It was our place, the Em’s: Emily, Emma and me, Emmerson. Our little bubble universe where nothing happened but everything mattered. We would trudge down the small hill, muscles perfectly sore, climbing down through the weeds that had sprouted to our knees. We’d settle side by side, knees leaning against each other, onto the rough, warm concrete. Sunscreen and chlorine and a faint smell of someone’s earlier barbecue. Overlapping voices biting through the backdrop of crickets and cars as we shared jokes and stories, talking of podcasts and Lord of the Flies. Phone screens lighting our reddened faces as we communed.

Today was the hottest day of the year, but it wasn’t like those days that had melted, reformed and gilded in our minds. 15 years had passed since those days had ended. It began with Emily moving away. Emma and I weren’t far to follow and we suddenly weren’t the reckless figures of those stories any longer. We had always stayed in touch, but everything had shifted, monthly visits turned yearly and though we weren’t the center of one another’s universes, we remained in the same patch of sky. Neighboring constellations. None of us lived in the town we had begun, but this year we found ourselves longing for a taste of the memory, so we made our way back.

I carefully lowered myself onto the concrete, next to Emily, next to Emma. The concrete felt harder than I remembered, the space smaller somehow, but miraculously, it was the same. I was used to these sacred spaces losing magic with time, but somehow, this concrete pad maintained its mystery and for that, we were thankful. I looked up at the cloudy sky, focusing on the few dim stars hinting through. Emily’s voice broke through the darkness,

“Remember the beach bash?”

The streetlights illuminate Emma’s glasses as she sits up.

“Ah man, the beach bash. I still have that playlist.”

My smile grew at that,

“You have to send that to me.”

Phone screens lighting laughter worn faces as we exchanged the memory and for a moment, relived it. Emily scooted down suddenly, peaking over the edge of the cement to the drainage tunnel below.

“I bet our graffiti is still down there. Remember pap swear?”

A jolt of laughter erupted from my lips, prompting theirs to mingle through the space.

“Pap swear? What does that even mean?”

I leaned slightly over Emily to face Emma, conspiratorially.

“One summer, we took a couple of spray cans down there and decorated the tunnel walls.”

Emily leaned forward,

“And Emmerson sprayed “pap swear”.”

I playfully smacked her and continued.

“I was trying to paint “pap smear”, but Emily distracted me.”

Emily’s face twisted into faux outrage,

“You distracted yourself!”

Laughter began to muddle our words, but Emma made out,

“Why “pap smear”?

I hesitated for a moment, I didn’t remember. I looked to Emily and she only laughed.

“Why not?”

My stomach was aching in a way it hadn’t been for far too long. I rarely laughed so hard outside of our now too scarce adventures.

“I always wanted to go down there with you.”

Emma whispered wistfully. We’d always planned to take her, but time had gotten away.

“We aren’t dead yet.”

Emily stood suddenly and a smile cracked across my face as I stood and held a hand out to Emma. She rose and began stumbling down towards the mouth of the tunnel. I shone the light of my phone into the mouth. It reached out a few feet before the inky black swallowed it up.

“Gosh, I forgot how dark it was.”

I looked at the two hesitantly. There was a time I would have run in without a second thought, but I moved slower now and my balance wasn’t quite the same.

“Are we sure? I didn’t wear the right shoes for this.”

Emily looked down and shrugged,

“Come on, it’s the tunnel.”

Emma looked eager enough to cast my doubts a bit further back.

“Alright, I guess we are doing this.”

Emma stepped in front of me, lighting up her own phone.

“Yes! It’s the tunnel!”

Emily saluted her,

“Lead the way then, captain.”

I followed Emma, careful to walk around the pool of water that stilled at the bottom of the rounded floor.

The tunnel quickly swallowed up any light beyond a few feet and after a minute of trudging, the streetlights were a memory. A forgotten feeling reemerged in my chest of breathless recklessness and with a slight giddy panic. I remembered the first time Emily and I came down here. We’d only made it a few minutes before we heard a banging noise and what Emily swore was a whisper and we’d run out, shaky and laughing. Emily’s voice brought me some stability,

”My joints aren’t made for this!”

Emma turned her light back to us, lighting up our flushed, smiling faces,

”Your joints were never made for this.”

Emily laughed her off and we continued.

“There it is!”

I moved almost on top of Emma, leaning my pointing arm over here to the curved wall where “Pap swear” proudly gleamed.

”I remember now! Emily and I were talking about our first pap smears and that inspired our art that night.”

Emily laughed and moved closer.

”That’s right! I passed out in the doctor’s office.”

I nodded enthusiastically.

”Oh yeah! I remember you telling me about that. At least it wasn’t during the exam.”

Emma recalled as our laughs bounced down smooth walls.

We continued and I began to sweat. It was cooler down here, but not by much and my hair suddenly felt heavier in my bun. We walked for a few minutes longer and I traced the walls as we recalled each smudge of paint and the stories behind them.

“You know, my knees actually feel a little better the further we go.”

I awkwardly shone my light back.

”You’d think it’d be the opposite.”

Emily shrugged,

”Hey, I don’t feel like dying, so that’s a major win.”

Emma held her light up a bit higher,

”Where does the tunnel let out?”

I gesture forward,

”We don’t know. In a minute we will run into the “end”, but it just gets super narrow. We never went further because of the water.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed as she tried to look past the meager light,

”It looks like it opens up.”

Emily nods,

”I think it’s the light on the water, like an illusion.”

We continued for longer than I remembered it being. The only sounds of our shoes on the concrete as we seemed to all focus on reaching the end. Emma tripped forward, her light revealing the unexpected cavern that opened up where the end of the tunnel should have been. A slight humming filled the air as we wordlessly and carefully stepped inside. It had the feel of something ancient and sacred. Not sacred in the way our concrete pad was, but properly sacred, as if it could feel our intrusion. The gaping mouth of the tunnel left no indication that it had been tampered with since we’d last explored here all those years ago, but somewhere along the line, someone must have broken through to this place.

“Did we move down somehow?”

The cavern nearly swallowed up Emma’s hesitant whisper.

It did indeed seem as though we had traversed deeper into the earth. The cavern walls were too high, it would be impossible for the size of this place if we weren’t somehow deeper below where we had entered. I took a few careful steps forward, my light reflecting off of something a few feet forward. The shuffle of feet alerted me that Emily and Emma were focused on it as well. My light revealed a shallow, shimmering pond. The moment my light touched it, a faint glow emitted from within it and the faint humming stopped. The water was still enough to take note of our reflections. Our morphed reflections. The depth of the surface must have been altering our images because we looked off somehow. Emily gasped as Emma grabbed her arm and they looked at one another. My mouth was agape as I realized what Emma had: our reflections weren’t warped. We each looked as we did all of those years ago, 15 years younger. I felt a deep uneasiness settle in my gut.

“We shouldn’t be here.”

I whisper softly.

“Was it the tunnel or this place?”

Emily mused softly.

I moved to back away from the glowing water but it began to shift. We all moved back suddenly and then forward again as we saw what it showed us. It was a memory, our memory. The Beach Bash. Emily and Emma worked at an Art Gallery and hosted a “work” party that I was inevitably invited to. A beach bash in the midwest. Kesha and Nicki Minaj echoing through the backyard as we roasted hotdogs and dodged water balloons. The bittersweet nostalgia of weathered memories and wasted potential as we dwelled on our past lives. The vision of it was so strong. I could feel the sun on my skin, hear the echo of music and the smell of smoke. It faded and I gaped at them.

“It was like we were there again.”

Emily said in awe.

Just like we were there again. Young and happy and together. We were there again. We were young again.

The water shifted again and we all subconsciously leaned in, more eager this time. It was Emily’s birthday party from years ago. We’d all dressed up as her, oversized shirts and beanies. Our laughter bounced down the streets as we walked from bar to bar. Music vibrated our very bones as we danced hard, sweating and wearing goofy smiles. Cane’s sauce dripped off chicken tenders as we sat around a table at the end of the night.

It showed us every memory I still held onto: birthdays, holidays, pool days and the cement pad. The rush of it left us shaking, the feeling of surviving a roller coaster, of getting on a plane, the feeling of summer night bonfires and concerts.

Just when I’d forgotten where we were, the water stilled, its glow fading and the darkness sapping away the lingering rush. No one said anything for a long time, too stunned, too breathless. A sudden banging in the distance drew us out of our awed stupor and my legs scrambled back, racing after Emma, then Emily. The tunnel seemed even darker as we trampled back through, water splashing up and the faint sound of banging pushing us as fast as we could run. Just like the first time Emily and I came here, that banging forced us out. My heart pounded in my chest, uneasy panic buzzing in my gut.

We toppled out of the tunnel into the open air far quicker than seemed possible. I crashed into Emma who crashed into Emily.

“What was that?”

I gasped.

“I don’t even know if I want to know”

Emma responded before silence fell over us. We moved simultaneously to the cement pad. The safety of it enveloping us as we took in what had occurred. I lowered myself onto my back and stared up at the blank sky as I caught my breath. The other Em’s laying next to me. It felt like some bizarre dream. I glanced over to see their faces. The faces of my two best friends. Not young anymore, but still more important than ever.

“I’m sorry.”

I said softly.

“For what?”

They echoed softly.

“We’ve gotten more distant than I thought we ever would.”

Emily sighed.

“It’s not your fault, I should have reached out more.”

Emma shook her head.

“We all could have. We all still can.”

We stared into the sky as the concrete pressed into our backs. Sweat running down my face and back as I held onto the feeling of what we saw. My two beautiful best friends. The pool had shown so much good, but it didn’t show the times that meant the most. The days we needed one another. The women beside me had done so much more than just become companions to pool days and endless summer nights.

A cool drop of water hit my face, then my leg, until a fine rain began to baptize us. No one made any moves to stand as the drops covered us. The end of the hottest day of the year. Emily began to laugh and Emma and my laughs joined in as the rain continued to cover the cement pad.

“Something really important happened.”

Emily says seriously, I was already nodding when she continued,

“Pap swear lives on!”

I gaped at her before laughing.

“Pap swear lives on!”

Emma and I parroted between hearty laughs. Whatever had happened to us was a mystery. Perhaps we weren’t truly meant to understand how it happened but what it meant.

Another summer day to be etched into our bones. Another myth to gild.

Three pieces of glass in a mosaic, unique but complimentary. Our jagged edges pressed together to paint the picture of something bigger.

The last thing I remembered about that night was when we stood from our cement pad. Emma noticed it first, our shadows. Our silhouettes on the concrete from where we denied the rain. Like three souls pressed into the ground, forever laughing and forever linked until the rain washed it away.