I didn’t feel like doing much the rest of the weekend. Too many opposing thoughts rattled back and forth in my mind, and my shoulders tightened up, weighted down with worry. My stomach felt queasy, and the lump in my throat was something I couldn’t swallow or spit out. Looking back with twenty-twenty vision, if I could have relived that minute of my life, I wouldn’t have kissed Charlie. That kiss made my thirteen-year-old life complicated and, counting my physical symptoms, uncomfortable. I knew she was still a friend, but a part of me realized that I'd crossed a line and made our relationship different forever.

          Although the sun shone bright and warm on Sunday, I hadn’t set foot outside my room except for using the bathroom and eating breakfast. My eyes kept wandering toward Jason’s sketch of the four musketeers, my eyes focusing on Charlie.  By noon my mom’s radar hummed on full alert. When I heard a knock, I knew she was prepared for a round of questioning. “Come in,” I said. My door opened part way, and her head poked through the opening.

          “Phew! This room is warm. Even the air is sticky.” She pushed open the door, walked over to the window, and threw it open. Then she scanned me top to bottom as I lay on my bed holding the sports section of the newspaper.“You’ve hardly been outside your room all morning. You haven’t even visited your clubhouse.” My mother always stated the obvious before getting to the point. “Nathan, is anything wrong?”

          “Nothing’s wrong,” I fibbed. “Just need some time to myself today.”

          “Excuse me for being nosy, but it’s just not like you to spend time indoors on a beautiful day. Did you get into a fuss with your friends?”

          “No, nothing like that.”

          “Did you have a misunderstanding with Brian, Jason, or Charlie?” Phrasing the same question differently, I knew she was fishing. But she was moving closer to the truth.

          I understood if I didn’t give her something, she wouldn’t rest until she got the truth out of me. I conjured up a vague answer. “Well, maybe . . . a little bit.”

          She continued without a pause. “Nathan, you know the best way to solve a problem.” She took a step inside my room, putting her hands on her hips. “Confront the misunderstanding head on, face to face, and talk it out.”

          “Mom, I don’t think it’s going to work this time. It’s not like anybody is wrong. It’s more like someone has hurt feelings.” I didn’t tell her that my feelings were the ones that were hurting.

          “Well, if that’s the case, there’s only one course left.” She waited until I showed an interest in her alternate solution. I didn’t disappoint her.

          “What’s that, Mom?”

          “Just ignore it. Sometimes if you pretend there wasn’t a problem or misunderstanding, the other person will just forget about it. It happens that way with your father and me once in a while.” She smiled the cunning smile of a master manipulator.

          I cocked my head and mulled it over. I realized my mom and I saw eye to eye. “I think that’s a good plan.” At this point, I realized it was the only plan for me.

          “Good, now that you know what to do, Brian called a few moments ago and wanted to know if he could come over. I told him you were working on some things, but I figured if he showed up in about an hour, it would be fine. He’ll be here in about a half hour.” She turned around and walked back down the hall without closing the door. My mom knew me like the back of her hand.

          After Bear arrived, we planned the next day. He wanted to take another peek at Pardou’s Pit. He said he was so creeped out the first time that he didn't remember what it looked like. Besides, he was sure Charlie hadn’t seen it close and personal, and he wanted to bring a flashlight this time.

          I mustered up the courage to call Charlie. She sounded surprised and relieved at the same time to hear from me. There was just one problem. Because of her dentist appointment, she couldn’t meet us until around two o’clock. We all agreed that two was fine although it might make for a late day. As I hung up the phone, Brian grinned at me with growing excitement.

          “This is gonna be cool! I’ll stop by Jason’s on the way home.”

          As he swung the door shut, I had the feeling that things were pretty much back to normal with the gang.

          The four of us planned to meet at the clubhouse a little after 2:00 on Monday afternoon. Since the hour was late, all of us had decided to eat lunch before we left and to travel light. I dropped a few snacks and a flashlight with new batteries inside my backpack before the others arrived.

          Accompanied by Bear and Charlie -- again with braided hair -- Jason swaggered into the club with a smile spread across his entire face. “What’s with you, buddy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this pleased with yourself.” He gave no answer except an ear to ear grin..

          “Well, tell them! Or I’ll wipe that silly-assed grin off your face by telling them myself,” Brian snapped, looking at Charlie and me. “He’s too freakin’ embarrassed to tell people, but he keeps smiling like Bugs Bunny. It’s drivin’ me crazy.”

          “Okay, okay. I won a contest,” Jason blurted out, still trying to suppress his grin.

          "What do you mean? What contest?” I was really curious now.

          “I entered a drawing contest sponsored by the Tacoma Tribune. Mrs. Wiggins, the art teacher, told me about it. I sent in a sketch of Mount Rainier. The letter came Saturday with a fifty dollar check and a first prize certificate. And . . . they’re going to announce the winners in the newspaper.”

          “Wowee!” I howled. “Congratulations! It’s nice to know that you're an official, talented artist. What are you gonna do with the money?”

          In a blink of an eye, Jason became quiet and thoughtful. “I want to spend it on art supplies. Oil paints and canvas cost a lot of money. I’ve never been able to afford them before. But . . . my dad wants to take the money for 'safe keeping’, he says. I’m afraid if I give it to him, I won’t get it back.”

          “Then don’t, Jason,” Brian interrupted with a steely edge to his voice.

          “It’s easy for you to say.” Jason turned on Brian. “You don’t have to live with my dad.”

          “Cut it out, guys,” Charlie broke in. She didn’t want an argument to spoil our plans for the day. “The important thing is that you won and have the letter and certificate to prove it.”

          “That’s the truth,” I agreed. “The certificate proves that you’re the winner in your family. Anyway, it's getting late, and we need to hit the trail.”

          Before we left the yard, my mom called out a reminder. “Remember, Nathan, your dad and I are invited over to the Norton’s for dinner, so we probably won't be home until nine. The leftover pot roast is in the refrigerator. Just heat it in the oven. And, all of you, be careful.”

          “Thanks, Mom. We might not be back until six anyway.” We waved goodbye and headed out the coal route for the Notch to explore The Pit.

          Brian and Charlie took the lead while I hung back with Jason who still wore a trace of a smile. My eyes sneaked peeks at Charlie as we walked; they examined her from head to foot. Her braids no longer disguised her good looks. Once she glanced back, and our eyes locked for a moment. She gave me a flickering smile, and I turned away, embarrassed at being caught. Feeling comfortable around Charlie again would take some time.

          Anxious to examine the pit with a flashlight, Bear kept up a good pace. I think everybody was filled with anticipation. Charlie confirmed what Brian suspected: she had only glimpsed the Pit from a distance. This would be her first time to perch on the edge and peer inside.

          When we reached the fork in the trail and entered the woods, the day became dusky. The approach seemed darker than usual. Perhaps it was the overcast sky. Perhaps it was our imaginations. Today we weren’t turning off the path to Ben’s; we were heading straight to Pardou’s Pit.

          The giant maple tree signaled its nearness. Once again, Jason led the way through the ground cover of wild grass, salal, bracken, and sword ferns. Jason picked up a brittle, dead alder branch half buried in the brush and probed the vegetation as we continued step by step. Bracken and grass parted, exposing the hole. We approached on our hands and knees because the lip of the pit wasn’t well-defined. The sod around its edge held plants that grew into the opening, forming little cornices that could collapse with a misstep. Reaching its lip, we lay down on our bellies and semi-circled the opening.

          As our eyes adjusted to the darkness below bit by bit, I pulled out the flashlight. The moment I clicked it on, it was easy to see that Pardou’s Pit was manmade. The sides were built with slabs of rock fitted together like a puzzle, mortared to stay.

          “Wow!” Charlie’s voice echoed. “Look at that craftsmanship! This shaft is not only manmade, but they built it to last a long time. It looks like an old well, but there’s no reason to dig a well in the middle of the woods, is there?”

          “That’s for sure,” I answered. “It’s an old ventilation shaft for a coal mine.”

          “How d’ya know that?” Brian seemed impressed with my knowledge.

          “Remember, Brian, I did that report about Carbonado. Part of the information I read told about coal mining around here. This reminds me of one of the illustrations.”

          I pointed the flashlight down until the black void swallowed its beam. Then I moved its light in slow circles until Charlie yelled, “Stop. Bring it back toward you. I think I see something.” She pointed to a spot below me and to the right.

          Putting down the flashlight for a moment, I pulled up sod and plants from the edge to give us a better view. When I focused the beam, what it revealed astounded us. A ladder descended beyond our view into the pit. Long, metal piping formed its outside rails, anchored every few feet by spikes driven into the rock. Two foot lengths of pipe connected the side rails, forming the ladder’s rungs.

          I reached down with my right hand, grasped the top rung, and tried to jiggle the ladder, but I was surprised when it wouldn’t budge. For an old ladder, it was strong and secure. Like The Pit, it was built to last, too.

          “Hey, Bear, why don’t you give it a try? Just lower yourself down a few steps.” I couldn’t resist taunting him.

          “No way!” he screeched. Then with a big grin he invited, “Ladies first, Charlie?”

          “I won’t set foot on that ladder. No one with gray matter between their ears would climb down into that hole. In fact, I’ve seen enough.” She shook her head, shivered, and pushed herself to her knees, inching back from the edge.

          We started to follow her example when Jason’s voice made us freeze. “There’s a big difference with the pit this time. Don’t you guys notice it?”

          I thought for a moment, and then asked, “What do you mean?”

          “The smell . . . that funny odor coming from the hole – there isn’t any today.”

          I sniffed the air. We all did. All I could smell were decomposing leaves and the moist, moldy aroma rising from below. “You’re right, Jason. The stink is gone. I wonder why?”

          While we puzzled over the question, the grass stalks around us began to shiver as if the wind were blowing. Then we felt some movement, a slight vibration that was shaking the ground beneath us. We felt it in our knees, our shoulders, even our fingertips. We looked at each other with wide eyes and mouths agape. Then, as sudden as it began, it stopped.

          “What was that?” gasped Brian.

          “It was probably just a little earthquake,” answered Charlie. “Earthquakes happen more often than you think when you’re living next to a volcano like Mount Rainier. Most of the time people are too busy to even notice them.”

          We accepted Charlie’s explanation at face value. After all, what else could it be? But the discoveries and events of that afternoon raised more questions than answers as we retraced our steps without any chatter, turned left, and hiked up the hill toward Ben’s cabin.