Frankie and George continued walking through the cave, marveling at the round, smooth ceilings, looking as if they were man-made.
"You know, there has got to be an opening to the outside somewhere in this cave," George remarked, reaching up to touch the blue granite stone above his head.
Frankie limped behind George, trying to keep up as the light from the flashlight revealed more chambers.
"Yeah, well, we keep looking every time we come down here and haven't found anything yet. Every passageway we go down leads to another dead-end. But those Indians on the walls there must have found a way to get down here without swimming under the rocks to get in here.”
George tuned shining the light in Frankie’s face.
“Well they’re sure as hell not giving up their secrets if they did.”
“I can relate to that,” Frankie said. “They knew the white man was coming. White folks did the same thing to the Indians that you did to us blacks.”
George was about to say something but instead took the magic marker from the water-proof bag and marked a big round red circle on the wall in the room they were standing in. They had gotten into the habit of marking all the walkways and tunnels they explored so that way they could find their way back.
"In years to come, Frankie, someone will find this place like we did and see all of these mysterious red circles on the walls that we made. They won't have a clue as to what they are.”
Frankie limped faster catching up to George.
"Sure they will, they'll know some dumbass Irishman had nothing better to do but to wander around a dark, damp cave marking up the place."
They continued down the winding hallway. Water dripped from small holes in the ceiling, and a whistling sound moving down the hallway as if there was a window open somewhere.
"I'm thinking of going to a party up on the hill tonight. Should be some really fine girls there just holding their breaths 'til I show up. You want to come and hang, Frank?"
"Who invited white trash like you?”
“You got to be kidding. Those rich girls dig me. You know that’s true.”
Frankie shook him head and continued to walk through the cave.
"What gets them rich girls excited is this black boy. You know the taboo thing.”
"Well, you want to go or not?"
"Sure, why not? It could be fun hanging with the uppity white folks.”
They turned a corner and entered a large, almost perfectly round room. It was by far the biggest room they had found so far.
Once more Frankie and George were mesmerized by the primitive faces painted on the walls and the carved images of the sun and moon chiseled into the stone ceiling. They walked around the room touching the walls, feeling the moist, rich dirt as if it held a great secret and would give them a clue as to what this place was all about.
“What the hell is this place, George?”
George ran his hands over the walls and looked up at the fading images above his head.
"I don't have a clue, but my mom said something about an Indian tribe living in this area hundreds of years ago. I think she called them the Lenapes. Maybe this was one of their hangouts."
"How is your mom?"
“Oh you know, she lives up in that bedroom. Once in awhile she comes downstairs to see what my sister is up to, see if she is still alive. It's like she's given up on life or something, just wants to read those books and watch dumb TV.
Frankie leaned up against the wall, giving his aching leg a rest.
"I see that in my mom. Life sure can wear you down if you let it. Neither one of them have husbands to help them with things. You know that got to be hard."
George aimed the light up on the ceiling hoping to find a ray of sunlight. But all he saw was the chiseled carving of the sun.
"Maybe we should let somebody know about this place. I mean, like a museum or the cops. Maybe we could make some money, George."
George aimed the light at Frankie's face.
"Why the hell would we want to do that? This is our place. No one else in the world knows about this cave but us. I mean right smack in the middle of Philadelphia, under a river, we found an Indian cave the size of a football stadium. No, man, this is our place. Our secret."
"Okay, keep your shirt on."
George reached into his back pocket and pulled out his pocket knife.
"Give me your finger, Frankie."
"My finger? Why?"
"Let's seal our promise to keep this place a secret.”
“No way. Grow up. If you think I’m going to let you cut me you’re crazy. You already broke my leg and gave me this limp. Shit. I haven’t forgiven you for that one yet.”
For a fleeting moment a look of sadness crossed George's face.
"You know I didn't break your leg on purpose. We were playing football; you just got in my way."
Frankie looked at the knife George was holding.
"Put that thing away. You’re not going to cut anybody."
“I didn't break your leg on purpose. You know that. That limp will keep you out of the Army. You should thank me, you really should."
“I’m not going into any army, I'm going to collage in the fall. You, on the other hand, didn't have the brains to stay in school. Your ass is going to be wearing army green very soon."
George placed the knife in his pocket. "Don't count on it."
Frankie shook his head and started back. They walked in silence, neither one anxious to continue the conversation. When they reached the first chamber, George returned the flashlight, matches, and marker in the water-tight bag, then placed the bag on a dry rock up high.
"Be careful going back up, Frankie. Don't get caught up in the tree roots or mud."
George stepped into the water and disappeared under the surface. Frankie followed right behind him, the two friends leaving one world and returning to another. Moments later they burst through the surface of the river, gasping for air. They swam the short distance to shore, then lay on the rocks letting the morning sun move over them.
"So we'll go to the party tonight, Frankie?"
"Sure, why not?”
George sat up and touched Frankie's arm.
"Come on, we can have a cool time.”
"Hand me my shirt, I got to get home. My mom wants me to help her do some shopping."
"You're such a good boy, Frankie, such a good boy," George said sarcastically. Frankie shoved him away.
After walking for fifteen minutes, they arrived at the stretch of pre-fab, cheaply built houses that made up the East Falls housing project. George watched Frankie disappear into his house at the end of the block. George then entered his home and heard his mother walking around upstairs in her bedroom. He noticed the mail on the table and flipped through it knowing it would be mostly bills. When he reached the bottom of the stack, he spotted the large, official-looking envelope with his name on it. He knew what it was before he opened it. He ripped it open and read the letter three times before placing it in his pocket. He thought for a moment to call his mom and let her know he had received his notice to report for his Army physical in a month, but he didn't want to worry her yet. There would be time enough for that. At least he would have the summer, he thought to himself. Maybe he could get