The Tunnels

Bruce was spinning, both literally and figuratively. He was spinning at his desk in his office chair while his mind was spinning on overload. This year was turning into a disaster, a string of disappointments one after the other, bam, bam, BAM. He banged his pencil down hard, causing his notepad to slide along the desk, knocking a virtual reality headset to the ground where his sweatshirt softened its landing. 

Bruce glanced down at the headset and considered picking it up. It belonged to his brother who had annoyingly left it in his room. It could wait until later, in the same way that picking up his clothes and cleaning up his room could wait until later.

What couldn’t wait until later was this assignment for his English class: Write a short story that incorporates aspects of your own life in a work of fiction. Make sure you include some literary devices, such as alliteration, personification, simile, metaphor, and onomatopoeia.

Bruce was stumped for ideas! With the story due on-line by midnight he had just over an hour to accomplish what seemed to be impossible. 

This whole situation was impossible. His family was in isolation due to the dreaded virus that was wreaking havoc around the world, claiming lives and livelihoods. Canceled trips, canceled concerts, canceled parties, canceled camps, canceled, canceled, canceled. The only thing that wasn’t actually canceled was school work. With the suspension of in-person classes came the onslaught of on-line learning.  

Being isolated meant stuck at home with your family and no social life. Marcus, his eleven-year-old brother, was always pestering him to play. But, at sixteen, Bruce was no longer interested in Lego, robots, or monsters. 

Suddenly, the notepad papers rustled as a breeze came in through the open window. Beckoned by the whispers of a restless wind, Bruce stood up and looked out. It was not quite dark this far north. In the lingering light he could see the trees that lined the yard with the mountains beyond; he could hear the last of the birds with their evening song; he could smell the ocean on the fog rolling in, as well as his Mom’s baking from the open kitchen window, cookies he could almost taste. But more than anything, he could feel freedom. 

Bruce thought a walk outside might clear his writer’s block, but there was no way he could slip out unnoticed. There was a ladder propped up outside, left by the painters who were working on the house. Seeing his key to freedom, Bruce decided to go out the window.

He grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and put on his shoes before climbing out. Down he went rung after rung, gingerly at first and then more confidently once he knew that the ladder was firmly secured to some scaffolding. Bruce kept his eyes upcast to his bedroom window, which was shrinking into a tiny rectangle of light. He continued his descent into darkness until he could not see a thing, not even the rungs of the ladder. When Bruce’s foot found solid ground, it was hard, not the soft grass of his backyard!

Bewildered, Bruce moved his hands around in the darkness searching for the ladder. But his hands remained empty, touching only air, air that smelled dank, air that was almost moist to the touch. 

Bruce reached for his cell phone in his back pocket. There was no reception, but the flashlight function still worked. Bruce could see he was in the middle of a stone tunnel. There was no ladder, no sky, no way back, no way home. Sweeping the beam of light over the ground, Bruce was surprised to see his brother’s virtual reality headset off to the right. While picking it up, he also noticed the opening of another tunnel.

Holding the headset in one hand and his phone for light in the other, Bruce started down the tunnel. After ten steps he reached a T junction. Bruce considered turning back then the words, Don’t go back, you can never go back, sprung to mind or, rather, appeared to be coming from the headset. 

Bruce suddenly realized that this was not his brother’s virtual reality headset after all. This was more like a toy he had owned as a child - except it had a strap, and on that strap it said Clue Master. Bruce was sure he had heard words coming from the headset. He placed it on his head and waited for his eyes to adjust. He could not see anything until he held his phone behind the headset, lighting up the message:

If you want to head for home,

You need to solve each clue,

Go with wrong, go with right,

It’s really up to you!

Bruce, once eager to escape his house, now wanted to go home. He could only assume that wrong or right was the same as left or right. So, after a brief hesitation, Bruce turned into the tunnel on his right. 

The cold air hit him hard. Bruce was about to turn back, but he heard those words again from the headset. “Don’t go back, you can never go back.” He put the headset on once more, lit it with his phone, and read:

On land, they seem awkward,

But streamlined in water,

Black and white treasure

From mother to daughter.

Bruce fumbled around in the dark while trying to figure out the clue. The tunnel seemed to end right there with nowhere to go but back. He turned around, but the sounds from the headset grew louder, like vicious hisses. Putting it on and lighting it up, Bruce could see the words, this time in capitals and all in red.

IF YOU GO BACK,

YOU’LL LOSE YOUR WAY

STUCK IN THE TUNNELS

YOU’LL HAVE TO STAY!

Feeling frustrated, Bruce sat on the ground with his back against the tunnel wall. He felt not only cold, but also hungry, and more than a little afraid! He was stuck. With his knees pulled into his sweater and his hood almost covering his head, Bruce sat thinking and shivering. In his hunger, he could almost smell the cookies baked by his mother that evening. He could also hear his brother calling, “Bruce, Bruce!”  

Bruce was not sure if he was imagining his brother’s voice or if he was really hearing it getting louder in the tunnel. He poked his head out of his hoodie and the voice was definitely louder.

“Marcus, I’m in the right tunnel,” he called out.

 Instantly Marcus was by his side, and said, “Well you wouldn’t be in the wrong tunnel! I brought you two cookies,” as he plopped down beside him. 

 “Shall we go home, Bruce?” Marcus asked insistently. “You have to finish your assignment.” 

Bruce wanted to yell at his brother because he would be home if he could be home. It dawned on him that his brother was not at all phased by these surroundings. 

Bruce was trying to figure out how to tell his brother they were stuck here with a ridiculous clue, when Marcus spoke again. 

 “What’s the clue, Bruce?”

  “Huh?”

 “What’s the clue? What word do you need to open up the tunnel? If you’re sitting here all huddled in your shirt like a turtle and drowning in a sea of despair, you must be stuck on a clue. What did it say?”

Bruce tried to recall the exact words, “Something about awkward, streamlined in water, a mother, a daughter, a treasure.”

Marcus closed his eyes and started rocking gently, repeating parts of the clue until his voice changed into a chant and then an almost inaudible hum. Bruce decided this was his time to be silent; his brother might be his only chance to return home. In this strange state of near silence, Bruce could not help but notice how the temperature was dropping and there was ice forming on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling.

Suddenly, Marcus yelled, “Penguins! Get up Bruce. Get ready!” Both of them scrambled to standing, slipping and sliding on icy ground just as a group of penguins came waddling by. As they passed them, an opening appeared in the side of the tunnel and the penguins slid on their bellies one after the other down a slope that had not existed just seconds earlier. 

Marcus and Bruce were still pressed against the icy wall, awkwardly bracing themselves trying not to slip on the ice. Marcus, taking charge, reached for his brother’s hand and told him to get ready to slide down the ramp after the last penguin. “Hold on to that Clue Master, and be ready to follow me before the gap closes.”

 As soon as the last penguin passed by, Marcus pushed Bruce forward. Diving head first they went onto their bellies, down the icy ramp. Instead of one behind the other, it was more like a side by side slide, holding on to each other. With no time to think and no time to talk, they slid quickly around icy bends: Olympians racing without sleds or helmets!

They landed softly on sandy ground. There was no sign of ice and no sign of penguins. For that matter, there was no sign of anything!

 “Why Penguins, Marcus? And how did you know?”

“Mom. Her penguin. The one that belonged to her mother, Grandma Marlie. That’s the treasure. Plus, penguins are streamlined in water. The way they waddle makes them seem awkward on land. And Mom is the daughter!”

Explained by Marcus, the clue made sense. Except none of this really made sense. 

“So where are we now? And where did the penguins go?” Bruce questioned his brother, who seemed to have some answers for all this nonsense.

“The penguins don’t matter, except we needed them to open up the tunnel! Put on the Clue Master and let’s hear the next clue,” insisted Marcus.

Bruce held out the headset but Marcus vehemently shook his head, “You started this. It has to be you.”

Once the headset was in place, Bruce read the clue out loud.

Build it up by digging down,

Use some tools or your hand

Do not delay, time is short,

It won’t fall if you make it grand .

“Marcus, what do you think this clue means?”

Marcus stopped his almost inaudible humming to reply, “Look! Shine your light over here on this box.”

Upon investigating the box, the boys discovered buckets and shovels along with other beach toys. As they were examining the items, the darkness started to lift. 

“Maybe these are the tools,” suggested Marcus. “Bruce, that’s it. We have to build a sandcastle!”

As soon as Marcus had uttered the word “sandcastle”, the light brightened into sunshine. The boys turned around to find they were on a beach. The tide was out but they could hear the waves lapping the sand, and see the gulls gliding on the air currents like thrill-seeking carnival-riders. 

Bruce groaned, “I don’t want to play at building sandcastles when we could be looking for a way out of here!”

“Well if you want to find your way out of here, we have to build a sandcastle! That’s what the Clue Master requires. Just like when I said “penguins” a new passageway opened up, when I said “sandcastle” the setting changed. So this is the way out, or at least the way forward for now. Come on Bruce, it will be kind of fun - just like when we were little at the beach with Grandpa. Besides, what if only the person who builds gets to move forward? “

Deciding that Marcus had a point, Bruce picked up a shovel and began digging. For a long time, the boys worked side by side. Bruce mostly digging and filling up buckets for Marcus to turn over and pat down as part of a large castle surrounded by a moat. Then they both added fine details to the castle using smaller tools. 

Bruce and Marcus were so busy building that they did not notice the water creeping closer until, suddenly, the ocean was filling up the moat. When this happened, they jumped up hurriedly, and realized they were trapped on this island of sand, inside their castle.

“Quick, put on the headset and look for a clue,” said Marcus with urgency in his voice.

Ebb and flow, come and go,

Just like the tides of the sea,

Strong or raging, sometimes fading 

Yet enduring for eternity.

 The water seemed to be rising faster and there was no sign of dry land. Marcus reached for his brother’s hand and sobbed, “Please save me. I don’t want to drown and I don’t want to be stuck here forever.” 

Standing in the water, Bruce reached over and lifted Marcus up. As he felt Marcus relax in his arms, Bruce experienced the most unimaginable surge of emotion rush through him, overwhelming love for his smart little brother. In a soft, soothing voice, Bruce said, “You know what ebbs and flows? It’s us. It’s our relationship. Sometimes we play and sometimes we fight, but our love never fails. And never will. You know what lasts forever, for eternity? It’s brotherly love.”

As soon as Bruce said the word “love”, the water vanished instantly and so did the sun. The light now came from the full moon up above. Without the water, Bruce could feel the full weight of his brother and quickly put him down. 

They both took a moment to survey their surroundings. They were standing on grass next to the most magnificent castle. It resembled the one they had built. But this one was not made out of sand. 

 “Look, I think we did it. We built it grand! “ said Marcus looking up in awe. “So what’s next? Put the Clue Master on your head.”

You can stay or you can go 

Right now the choice is yours

Make the climb, head up for home,

Or stay here and explore.

As inviting as the castle looked, both boys agreed that they wanted to go home. “We need to look for a way up,” Bruce urged.  

They started to walk around the perimeter, looking for signs of any way up. “Try the Clue Master again,” urged Marcus.

Estimate the rungs you need 

To climb to the scaffold

Don’t fall short, so in good time 

Your tale will be told.

Again, after walking for what seemed like an eternity around the perimeter, Marcus spotted the glint of some metal up high. “That must be it, so high up, how high Bruce? And where’s the ladder?”

 “I think we have to figure the number of rungs we need to go up. Well I’m going to say that’s sixty feet up. And we need a rung for every foot. So sixty is my answer.”

Out of nowhere a ladder appeared and the boys started to climb. Marcus followed closely behind his brother, wearing the headset so that his hands were free. Climbing blindly suited him fine because, truth be told, he was terrified of heights. Up and up they climbed in a steady rhythm of counting. Knowing his brother was afraid of heights, Bruce told Marcus to count along with him as a way to keep him calm. 

At the count of sixty, Bruce was relieved to find he could haul himself up onto the wooden platform of the scaffolding, and reach down to help his brother land there too. 

They sat together catching their breath, expecting to admire the view from having climbed a castle wall so high. But they both gasped in unison to find that what they saw instead was the familiar view of the trees in their backyard and the mountains beyond.

“We’re home!” Marcus exclaimed. 

 Bruce replied, “We just have to go up a few more rungs on the painter’s ladder tied to this scaffolding. It’s the one we climbed down. You should go first now Marcus. But wait, how did you come to follow me and how did you know so much about the clues?”

Marcus replied, “Well I didn’t come down this ladder. It’s kind of a long story. Maybe we can talk tomorrow. Besides, you have an assignment to do.”

“Well, that’s probably a lost cause,” said Bruce. But his brother was gone, up the ladder and through the open window. 

Once inside, Bruce flopped into his office chair, took off his sweater and let it drop to the floor, next to his brother’s actual headset. He glanced at the time, 11:50 pm - only an hour since he’d gone out the window. He started to spin in his chair, knowing he was doomed; the assignment was due in ten minutes and he had nothing!

Bruce headed to the bathroom down the hallway. He could see Marcus was lying in bed, in his pyjamas, fast asleep. In the dim light, he could also see into his Mom’s office where her treasured penguin sat on a shelf. There seemed to be a twinkle in the single button eye. The other eye was long gone, some forty years earlier according to his mother!

After brushing his teeth, it was 11:57, and Bruce headed back to his room to go to bed. Upon entering, he startled the cat, Tinker, who scurried across his desk and over the computer keyboard. The screen flashed, to show a SUBMITTED box. He sighed in exasperation. 

“Tinker, you submitted an empty file! I’ll be getting a great big fat 0!”

He clicked on the assignment link, expecting to see a blank page. But to his surprise he saw several pages of text. He stared in shock, and then, as the clock in the living room chimed midnight, he read the opening lines:

Bruce was spinning, both literally and figuratively. He was spinning at his desk in his office chair while his mind was spinning on overload ... .