Her mother shot her a glare but didn’t say anything.
When they finally passed through the smoke ring, they lost all visibility. Like an off-white curtain, the fog cloaked everything around them so that Callie couldn’t even see her feet on the ground. She reached for Braden before she lost him.
“You kids alright?” her mother’s lyrical tones drifted back to them, disembodied.
“Yeah,” Braden answered, his deep voice booming in a landscape that had gone eerily silent.
“Why is it so quiet?” Callie asked, gripping Braden’s T-shirt as they stepped carefully up the mountain.
“We’re close to the peak. The animals don’t come this far,” he answered. “Years of eruptions have destroyed the vegetation. I bet, even though we can’t see it, our surroundings have changed.”
“You’re always full of useless information,” Callie joked, pressing closer to his back. The lack of vision was disorienting. “How do we know we aren’t going to run into anything?”
“We don’t.”
“It smells like rotten eggs.”
Braden’s hand touched hers where it held onto him. “It’s sulfur. Quit worrying, Cal.”
“I hate her,” Callie spat, her anger rising like a geyser.
“Take it easy, Tiny,” Braden said with a short laugh. “We should almost be there.”
“Not that we’ll know where there is,” she grumbled.
Her mother’s excited yell startled her a few moments later, just as the fog began to thin. The dark, ominous maw of an opening in the side of the volcano appeared through the thinning smoke.
“According to the map,” Emma said as they approached, “the fountain is inside.”
“A fountain,” Callie said, refusing to look at her mom. She was worried if she did, she’d kick dirt at the woman’s knees.
“I’m positive this is it!”
You always are.
It was cold and damp inside the cave. Braden and her mom flicked on their flashlights as they stepped through the opening. Always the rebel, Callie didn’t bother digging through her pack to find hers. She just latched on to Braden once again and allowed him to lead her.
The twin beams of light illuminated the usual suspects of stalactites, stalagmites, and rock walls that oozed water in yellowing, calcite lines. Other than the steady drip of water, nothing else broke the tomb-like quality of the cave but the shuffle of their footsteps.
Inside such darkness, Callie lost track of time. Her cell—despite being one of the top-of-the-line satellite phones on the market—had crapped out about halfway up the side of the volcano. It felt like they walked forever, steadily heading upwards.
At some point, the dripping water became a dull roar that became louder as they walked. The source of the sound became obvious as they turned a corner and emerged in a large cavern.
Braden’s flashlight swept across ceilings that soared high above with visible ridges where rock had fallen in the past. Her mother’s flashlight spanned the length of a wide, rushing river, until it paused directly across at a small inset in the wall of the cave.
It was obvious the river had carved the wall in its crescent shape. A stair-step of outcroppings led from the bubbling surface of the river and into a shallow pool just above the water line. The rock above the pool was decorated with shiny, pearl-like strands and the surface of the bowl was significantly calmer than the river.
“There it is,” Emma murmured, barely audible over the roar.
“It’s just another cave formation,” Callie called loudly, rolling her eyes.
“Aunt Emma, it doesn’t look like what folklore describes,” Braden said, carefully choosing his words. Callie’s mother was as emotional as Callie was temperamental.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Emma argued with a decisive shake of the head. “I’m going in.”
“Mother, you cannot get in that water,” Callie argued, reaching out to snag her mom’s elbow. “It’ll drag you under.”
Her mom shook her off and smiled. “It’s fine.”
Callie stepped forward to stand beside Braden at the edge of the water, and both watched as Emma yanked off her boots and waded in. Braden shone the flashlight on the small pool, lighting the path for his aunt.
Even knowing her mom was a championship swimmer who had almost gone to the Olympics years before, Callie’s heart pounded. She kept her eyes trained on her mother, as Emma swam confidently arm-over-arm towards the formation.
She pulled her lithe body from the water with both hands and grabbed a foothold on the stairs. Braden moved a little to the left to allow her more light.
Callie’s mom knelt next to the pool and leaned forward, her head disappearing in the water.
“She’s going to get some kind of exotic, brain-eating bug.” Callie sighed.
Braden nudged her. “Buck up.”
A few long moments passed before Emma got to her feet and made the slow swim back to their side of the river. Braden handed the flashlight off to Callie and went to help his aunt from the water.
Her mother’s brilliant blue eyes were haunted, her face drawn. She swiped both hands back through her chin-length hair, smoothing it to her scalp as she drew near. By the drawn look of her face, Callie knew her mother was barely keeping the tears at bay.
“The fountain of youth does not exist,” Callie said coolly, then turned on her heel and headed for the exit. She didn’t even turn around to make sure her family was following.
Callie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the leather seat.
The plane was deliciously cool compared to the tropical country they’d just left behind. She reached up and angled the vent towards her, closing her eyes as the column of air brushed across her face. Stale airplane AC was loads better than malarial forest humidity.
She was anxious to get back to civilization. Just the thought of American food made her mouth water; she’d been dreaming about cheeseburgers for a month. Not to mention how heavenly a warm bed to sleep in would be after the bug-infested, South American tents.
Her head was still reeling. She couldn’t believe her mother had agreed to head back to the States…
They’d hit the bottom of the volcano before her mother had spoken another word. Braden and Callie were shoulder to shoulder, trudging ahead, when her mom’s voice called, “Kids?”
Callie and Braden stopped and exchanged wary glances, then turned around.
For the first time, Callie noticed her mom looked old. The weight of the world made her shoulders sag forward. The underground river had left her normally perfect blonde hair stringy and dirty—there were leaves in it: stark, brown, dead. Her mom continued forward until she was only a couple feet away, then stopped and gave them a wry smile.
“I’m sorry.”
Her mother’s apology barely registered on Callie’s radar. She was too sick of following her mother around on a crazy goose chase. Nothing the woman said could make right the last six years of Callie’s life.
“Maybe…” Her mother’s voice trailed off in a sigh. “Maybe we should take a break.”
“And go where?” Braden put to voice Callie’s own thoughts.
Emma brushed her hands down the front of her damp, wrinkled blue jeans and glanced around the forest as if looking for inspiration. “Well, let’s go home. To Gran’s house. We’ll figure it out from there...”
Braden startled Callie from her thoughts when he held out one of the plane’s gossip magazines and waved it in her face. “Here. This will keep your mind off things.”
Outside the small window, the sun was setting over the wing of the plane, glinting off the metal. Callie glanced over at her cousin and smiled gratefully, then took the mag and opened it across her lap. Braden clicked on the light above her head so she could see, and just that small action brought tears to her eyes.
She really didn’t know how she would have survived the last few years if it wasn’t for his companionship.
It hadn’t
been as hard at first. When her father had died, Callie was ten years old. She’d had such a fresh outlook on the world, that her mother’s insane quest to find the fountain of youth hadn’t bothered her. It was only when Callie was fourteen that it became a chore; the lack of a home, the constant desire for friends…hell, even a boyfriend.
She sighed. In a way, Callie could understand. The sudden loss of her father made it painfully obvious that a human being’s time in the world was limited. Her mother was chasing immortality.
Callie flipped a page and rolled her eyes.
Her dad had been a movie director in Hollywood—a big name who knew all the right people and made all the right movies. Callie knew that the pretty brunette advertising six-hundred-dollar jeans in the front of the mag was airbrushed to within an inch of her life. It’s what Hollywood did; it’s what Hollywood was—plastic. Fake.
It made Callie sick that girls and guys obsessed over being as pretty or as thin as the celebrities. Every time she turned around, there was another Nightline segment about pre-teen nose jobs or twenty-year-old breast enhancements—all because Hollywood set an ideal too high for the average person.
Callie even felt bad for the celebrities. Imagine working hard to fit the ideal only to have your waist narrowed and your thighs shaved down. That can’t be a good for the ego.
“Aunt Emma seems pretty upset this time,” Braden said, his lowered voice interrupting her inner tirade. “Usually she’s upbeat and ready for the next potential spot.”
Callie glanced over at her mother. The woman was across the aisle from the two of them, wrapped tightly in a pale blue airplane blanket as she stared straight ahead. Callie hadn’t seen her move in an hour.
She shrugged. “Maybe she’s finally ready to face reality.”
“I doubt it. She probably just needs time to recuperate.” Braden slouched down in his seat and shoved his long legs against the chair in front of him. “This hunt is what seems to keep her going since your dad…. I can’t imagine what would happen to her if she sat still for too long. She’d probably implode.”
Callie ran her fingertips over the edge of the magazine, avoiding Braden’s eyes as she murmured, “I wish she would let it go. She’s wasting the life she has in search of a fairytale. Not to mention she’s making my life hell. How am I ever going to get a boyfriend when I don’t stay in one place?”
“Let her work through her issues, Cal.”
Callie narrowed her eyes. “So I have to deal with her issues as well as my own?”
Braden took a deep breath and let it out, turning his head on the seat until he could stare into her eyes. “You’re right. It is hard on you, but it’s hard on her, too.”
Callie flipped another page in her magazine and didn’t answer. There was no justification for her mother’s actions.
But there wasn’t for Callie’s anger, either.
Coming Soon!
If you’d like to be notified when Eternal Youth is released, send an email to
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[email protected] with the subject line “Eternal Youth”.
Julia Crane, Consumed
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