Mr. Bridge_ A Novel - Evan S. Connell [29]
The cave was not easy to find. He pushed through the weeds and was wondering if he had gotten into the wrong lot, when suddenly he heard voices underground. He stopped and looked around, because the entrance must be very close, but he could not see it. Then he found the dead bush and beneath it the outline of a sod-covered door. He had planned to tramp back and forth on top of the cave, but now because it was occupied he thought he should not.
The bush quivered, the trap door tilted, and the startled face of Rodney Vandermeer appeared among the weeds. Just as quickly he disappeared under the bush. There was more subterranean conversation. Silence. Once again the trap door opened. This time it was Douglas.
“Hello there,” said Mr. Bridge.
“Hello,” Douglas said.
“I’ve been wondering how substantial this thing is. I didn’t want the roof falling in on you.”
“It won’t fall in.”
“Ah? What makes you so sure?”
“Some of the guys ran a wheelbarrow full of bricks over it.”
“I see. Well, these things can be dangerous if you don’t watch out. Have I disturbed you?”
“Oh,” Douglas said, “I guess not. We knew somebody was up there.”
“You could hear me walking around, could you?”
“Easy.”
“Are you having a meeting?”
After a pause Douglas said, “I don’t get you.”
“Isn’t this some sort of a clubhouse? Don’t you have meetings here?”
“It’s just a cave. You want to come in?”
“No. But thank you. How many of you are in there?”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Well, I guess there’s six or seven.”
“My Lord, how big is that place?”
“It’s pretty deep,” Douglas said. “You can stand up if you want to.” He had been holding the trap door above his head, but his arms were beginning to tremble; he lowered the door until it rested on his head. “We’re sort of crowded, though. I guess you’d get your pants muddy if you tried to squeeze in.”
“I expect I would. Who else is in there?”
“Tipton, and Rod, and the big guys, and some guy from Overland Park. He’s a friend of one of the big guys. He plays quarterback on the Overland Park High School team.”
“Ah ha. Now tell me, is this the only entrance?”
“Yes, but they’re talking about digging a rear escape.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“We caught a snake here yesterday.”
“What kind?”
“Just a garter snake. At first we thought it was a rattler. He’s about a foot long.”
“You’ve kept him?”
“He’s in the cigar box. We’re going to try and catch a live mouse for him to eat.”
“I don’t believe garter snakes eat mice.”
“That’s what the guy from Overland Park says. But we thought he might anyway.”
After a lengthy silence Mr. Bridge said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“That’s okay,” Douglas said as the trap door began sinking, “let me know if you want to come in sometime.”
34 Discretion
“Just say some guy really had it in for you and yanked out a pistol,” Douglas proposed. “What would you do?”
Mr. Bridge had settled down to read the stock market reports. “I would do as I was told,” he replied as he opened the paper.
“What if he wanted your dough?”
“I would give it to him, naturally.”
“You’d let him get away with it?”
“I would remember what the man looked like and report the robbery to the police as soon as possible.”
“Can they get your dough back?”
“Not often.”
Douglas thought this over, then he said, “I don’t know what I’d do.”
“You should do the same. If you are ever held up, you give the fellow whatever he asks for. After that go straight to the police.”
“If they can’t get your dough back what good does it do?”
“Chances are it will accomplish nothing. The point to remember is that if you are ever approached by a thug with a weapon you must not argue or attempt to fight. Chances are that if you do as he tells you, you won’t get hurt.”
“If he wasn’t a big guy maybe you could get his gun.”
Mr. Bridge lowered the newspaper. “Now,