BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

by Linda S Barth

The sound of pelting feet echoed in the bathing chamber as Eric took a victory lap around the edge of the pool.

“Woo-hoo! First one here!” His grin stretched from one cheek to the other. “I even beat Kipper!”

After a few celebratory leaps in the air, he pulled off his sneakers and socks and scrambled out of his jeans and sweater before plopping his bathing suit clad bottom onto the sandy bank. Streams of light filtering from crevices in the rocky ceiling glinted on the lenses of his glasses as he surveyed his domain.

He’d only visited this pool twice, once on an exploring adventure with Geoffrey and then last week for his first swimming lesson Below. He was already a decent swimmer like the others. Today they were going to practice life-saving skills, and pretty soon he’d be good enough to swim near the Great Falls with Zach and Ellie and the other big kids. But until then, this spot was pretty cool. It was clean and warm – so much better than the dank water and cracked tiles of the pool at the Y back when he’d lived Above. 

HIs smile faded. He didn’t want to think about that.

He twisted his neck to peer toward the chamber entrance. But there was only an empty space where he’d hoped to see a laughing cluster of his friends rushing in, along with Vincent who would conduct their lesson this morning. Maybe he should have waited for them like he’d been told to do, or sent a message on the pipes to let them know where he was.

Nah, that would’ve spoiled the surprise of being first at anything for a change. Still, waiting was hard. Literally. Sand always looked soft and comfortable, but it really wasn’t. He squirmed, but that only propelled scratchy grains into his swim trunks. Great, now he was itchy as well as lonely and bored.

He frowned. Vincent said there was never a good reason to be bored. Now, Vincent was about the smartest person in the world, but he was wrong about that. If there was ever a time a kid could be really bored, it was right now. There was no one to talk to, nothing to do. He couldn’t even go in the water on his own. That was way too dangerous. He’d just have to sit here. No other choice.

In a heartbeat, he clambered to his feet. Even in a small chamber like this one, there must be places to explore. But after a quick glance, he had to admit there really wasn’t all that much to see. A roughly oval-shaped pool just deep enough for kids to swim safely, mounds of crystalline sand cushioning the rocky floor, sudden bursts of brightness from distant sunlight sparkling on the water. Nothing else.

Hold on. Heaps of various-sized rocks were piled just a few yards away from where he stood. He trotted toward them. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something to do while he waited. Maybe he’d find a lizard or a spider or even a rat.

His eyes glistened as he spotted something behind the farthest stony cluster. He nudged it with his foot and then dragged a lumpy canvas duffle bag from its hiding place. It was heavier than it looked, and as he wrestled it further into an open area of sand, he heard sounds from within its depths – rustling, clinking…

What could it be? Maybe something valuable! Maybe buried treasure! He quickly scanned the chamber for pirates. Come on, it could happen. After all, Vincent lived here. And he’d heard about a kind of spooky old lady named Narcissa, so why couldn’t pirates have once made this their hideout?

His imagination filled with images from Treasure Island. Bags of gold coins. Bars of solid silver. Diamonds and rubies and those other ones – what were they called? Emeralds!

He had to know.           

His fingers gripped the bag’s zipper pull. He started to tug, then froze. He’d already been lectured – twice – by Father on the rule about respecting other people’s property. He huffed at the memory of the latest incident. How was he supposed to know those tools belonged to Cullen? He was only trying to nail that picture frame together for Mary’s birthday. He hadn’t meant to leave the hammer…someplace he still couldn’t remember where.

He sighed. He knew Father was right – again – but somehow all those rules – so many of them! – seemed to escape from his brain exactly at the moment he needed to follow them.

Maybe he should just put the bag back where he’d found it. Yeah, that was the right thing to do. Pirates probably were even more strict than Father when it came to somebody messing with their stuff.

But as he started to drag it along its return trip, he heard those sounds again. Pirate treasure didn’t make noises like that. What could it be? His eyes widened. What if something was trapped inside the bag? What if it was a scared little mouse or a baby kitten or a really cool snake? He gasped. What if it was Arthur?!

He yanked the zipper open, then dodged back several inches in case some furry or scaly face might peer back at him. Seconds ticked by. He counted to twenty, then to fifty just in case.

Well, that was disappointing. He’d been sure there was an animal inside, one he’d be able to rescue. Maybe it would have become his pet. That would be fun. He wondered if there was any chance Father might let the kids get a puppy.

Father! He gulped hard. His perfectly reasonable excuse for opening the bag – not even Father would object to the rescue of an innocent animal – had just disappeared. This was not good.

He scampered to the chamber entrance and stared down the passageway, then strained his ears for the sound of footsteps. Nope. Still nothing. But this time the absence of his friends was a relief.

He ran back to the bag. Now he would rezip it and stick it back behind the rocks. He could do that. And he would. He really would. He’d do it right now…

One after another, he pulled items from the bag. A box of matches, candles – okay, that made sense. Those things were all over the place in every chamber he’d ever been in so far. 

What else? A really big, old quilt, not carefully folded, just stuffed into the bag. That was a surprise. Everybody was supposed to be careful to take good care of things. He held it up, letting its folds drape to the ground. Even stranger. There were several small parallel tears in it, and it wasn’t any too clean either. People recycled things down here all the time, but this quilt was a mess, like it had been used way too much and should be thrown away. 

What was it for? He frowned, considering some options. No one would ever be in here taking a nap – that was stupid – and this pool wasn’t for doing laundry. His face brightened. Maybe someone had left it behind after a picnic. That must be it.

He abandoned the quilt and with both hands reached deeper into the bag to pull out two large glass bottles. He placed one on the sand and held the other up to the light. As he shook the vial, the contents swirled and glistened, coating the amber glass. The stopper twisted easily and a bit of the liquid dribbled onto his hand.

He sniffed at it. The aroma was familiar…sweet like candy…like a dessert…like… “William’s coconut cookies!” He nodded, proud of his detective skills. Yup. Somebody definitely had a picnic here! 

Then he frowned as he recapped the bottle and set it aside. Something was wrong. Oil like this was just for baking, right? He’d watched William use similar stuff while assigned to kitchen chores only two days ago. And besides, so far the bag hadn’t yielded any other baking supplies. He took a quick glance. There were more things in there, but none of them looked like they’d support his original theory. And you can’t bake things in a bathing chamber anyway.

He took another deep sniff of the oily residue on his hand. Okay, maybe someone baked cookies for the picnic and accidentally put the bottle in this bag. That could definitely be what happened! So, then where were the actual cookies? He rummaged a hand through the duffle’s contents. There was nothing that felt like cookies or even coconut candy. He shrugged his shoulders. Okay, the cookies weren’t in the bag, but they had to be here somewhere. He could still smell them.

Well, he’d just have to explore the chamber some more. Maybe the other kids could help when they finally showed up. They’d really go for a surprise like that. Everybody loves cookies!

But first there was the other bottle to identify. Maybe it was something even better. Maybe it was chocolate sauce!

He squinted at the label. There were words, mostly worn off, but he thought he could make out a few of them. One still was clear anyway. It was kind of long, but he remembered what Michael had taught them during a reading lesson. Break big words into more than one part, read each one, then put ‘em back together and you’d get it.

He could do that. He read the pieces out loud. “Mass age?” Hmmm, he knew what mass meant and he knew what age meant, but the two words pushed together were confusing. He muttered the syllables over and over.

“Message! It says message – like a message in a bottle!” Revived images of pirates filled his head. That was it! It had to be!

He quickly unscrewed the cap and started to tilt a hoped-for parchment paper into his hand – then exploded in a storm of coughing and wheezing. His eyes watered so badly he could barely see well enough to shove the cap onto the container before dropping it to the ground and burying it in a kicked flurry of sand.

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his fist and took a tentative breath. Wow, he’d almost needed his old inhaler! Roses. His worst allergy.

This bottle was the lamest clue ever. There wasn’t a treasure map inside or even chocolate sauce. It was perfume or lotion or something. He swiped at his still sniffly nose. That stinky stuff had almost killed him – and all for nothing!

Time to rethink things. What would his favorite detective do? Okay, he knew the answer to that one. Review what he’d already found out, keep looking for more clues – real ones – forget about the ones that didn’t fit, and put the rest together. Then, no matter how weird it sounded, he’d have the solution.

He put himself into Sherlock mode. Hidden bag. Sounds but no animal. Candles and matches. Old raggedy quilt. Coconut juice or oil or something but no cookies. Rose stuff but no…no anything that made sense for that one. His one possibility – pirates (with or without cookies) — was starting to seem unlikely.

There was only one thing left to do, and he knew he was running out of time. He reached into the bag. His fingers felt something soft but stiff, and this time he knew immediately what it was. 

Paper! It looked sort of like that crumbly stuff some really old maps were made out of. Kind of like the ones in Father’s library…Kind of like the ones pirates had…

His fingers trembled as he carefully unfolded the pages. Oh, please be a pirate map! Please!

“Oh, man!” 

Nothing but a bunch of words. He flipped through the pages. Words like beloved, dearest, joy, longing, always, forever. He read further, picking out phrases – only you, my heart is yours, you are my life, my dream, I cannot live without you. There was more, a lot more, and some really long words he knew he could figure out if he tried. But he couldn’t go on, not without gagging up his breakfast.

“Ewwwww!” 

He started to crumple the papers, then stopped and smoothed them out on the nearest rock, as Father’s face scowled in his mind where pirates had once prowled. He put the refolded pages carefully on the sand, but not before giving them his best glare. What a disappointment! Not even a pirate story, let alone a treasure map. Just love poems. He rolled his eyes. Who’d be carrying around that kind of junk?! The only people he knew who liked stuff like that were Vincent and Catherine.

Uh-oh. Vincent and Catherine. What if the bag was theirs? Vincent and Catherine would be so disappointed in him for poking around in their things. That would be way worse than getting yelled at by Father!

This was really really bad. He wished he’d never gone exploring. He wished he’d never found the stupid old bag in the first place. But wait – maybe it was so old that somebody else had left it here a long time ago. Not Vincent and Catherine! Probably somebody so old they were dead by now and they’d never find out what he’d done.

So, it wouldn’t matter all that much if he checked to see what was left.

At the sight of his latest find, his mouth quivered like a beached fish gasping for air. But there were no words, at least none he was allowed to say out loud without getting scolded. He stared in horrified fascination at the object dangling from his fist like a lacy viper – a tangle of ribbons and rosebuds and two…bumps. He knew what this was. His mom had some but not like this one – no way! 

Who could this – thing – belong to? All the ladies down here dressed in layers and layers of patchwork knits and leather and flannel and cotton. Rebecca and Olivia and – oh, no – Mary couldn’t be wearing things like this under their sweaters…could they? 

He shuddered, trying to shatter those images, then managed to laugh at himself. He was just being silly. Nah, they wouldn’t ever wear something like this. This – thing – was for different kinds of ladies. Rich, fancy ladies. Ladies who lived Above. Ladies like…

Catherine.

His face aflame, he stuffed the silky item as far into the bag as he could, then wiped his hand on his swim trunks as if to rid himself of any contagion. This was worse than cooties!

But at least – the thing – had helped answer his question. All this stuff hadn’t been left in the bathing chamber after a picnic, and it sure never belonged to pirates. While he still didn’t actually know what all of it was for, he’d seen enough to figure out it was some kind of lovey-dovey grown-up stuff. And that was more than enough information for him!

In mere seconds, his other finds had been piled on top of the thing – he still couldn’t even think, let alone say, the word – and the bag was zipped shut. He grabbed the handles and started pulling it back to where he’d found it, just as the sound of voices bouncing off stony walls and feet slapping against a rocky path grew closer and closer.

Moving faster than he might have thought possible, he shoved the bag behind the rocks, then scuffed away the tell-tale ridges in the sand that might have revealed its presence. His bottom smacked onto the ground with mere seconds to spare. 

As his friends surrounded him, he jumped to his feet and grinned. “What took you guys so long? I’ve been waiting for hours!”

“No, you haven’t.” Kipper shook his head. “And besides, you were supposed to wait for us.”

“We thought you were lost. Good thing the sentries saw you.” Geoffrey frowned at his friend. “There are places Below we’re not supposed to go to alone.”

This was not going as planned. What happened to the praise he deserved for finally being first?

“Yeah, Eric!” Jasmine gave him a little poke. “You’re not allowed to be here by yourself.”

He glared at her as he rubbed the non-existent wound on his shoulder. “You’re not the boss of me!”

Samantha tilted her head toward something just behind the boy. “No, but he is.”

Uh-oh. He didn’t have to turn around to know what – or who – she was looking at. But he forced himself. “Hi, Vincent…uh, am I in trouble?”

Vincent crouched down to look him in the eyes. “You could have been in serious trouble, Eric. You’re still relatively new here, and there are places where you might become lost or even hurt, and no one would know where to find you.”

Eric sighed. “I didn’t think about that. I just wanted to be first at something for once.”

“I understand, but it’s far more important for you to remember – and follow – our rules. They’ve been made to keep all of us safe and to show respect and caring for one another.” He rose to his feet and waited for the child to look up at him. “Do you think you can do that from now on?”

“I can – I really can. I promise!”

Vincent nodded. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, Eric. And, you know, there are other ways of being first at something without breaking safety rules or endangering yourself and others.”

“There are?” Eric began to smile. “Like what?”

“You could hand in your history project before the rest of us.” Geoffrey cast a guilty look in Vincent’s direction. “I haven’t even started mine yet.”

“Or you could be the first kid to deliver all their Winterfest candles this year.” Samantha smiled at him. “Jasmine and I were first last year.”

“You could be the first one to pass the life-saving test.” Kipper squirmed out of everything except his bathing suit. “But I’m pretty sure that’s going to be me!” He sped to the edge of the pool. “Last one in is a rotten egg!” 

A whirlwind of abandoned clothing and tossed towels left Vincent alone at the edge of the pool, ducking to avoid splashes. Smiling as he waited for some energy to burn off before the lesson began, he strolled several paces away to place his outerwear in a spot where it had a better chance of remaining dry.

Moments later, he sat at the edge of the pool and whistled his students to his side to begin their training. Eric waded toward him, holding out a pair of water-spotted glasses. “Can you put these somewhere for me, please?”

“I’ll put them with my clothes. They should be safe over there.” 

Eric’s wide-eyed stare followed the direction of Vincent’s tilted head, then he snatched back the glasses before his teacher could move. “That’s okay! I need to keep them on so I can see you better!”

“Well, let me know if you’d like me to dry them off for you at some point.”

“Probably not, but okay – thanks!” 

Whew, that was a close one. Too close! What if Vincent had found that bag? What if he opened it – even though it didn’t belong to him and Catherine after all – and took out the stuff inside? There was no way he could stand looking at those things again! It was bad enough the first time.

Banishing all thoughts of pirates and cookies and bags of useless junk, Eric concentrated on following every direction given in the swimming lesson. Maybe there would be a special medal or badge for learning all the techniques, especially if you came in first.

* * *

Eric trotted along the passageway leading to Vincent’s chamber. He’d worked so fast, he was nearly finished with his diorama for the history class assignment, and it wasn’t even due for three more whole days. Best of all, none of the other kids had handed theirs in yet. All he needed was one more item, and he was pretty sure he’d seen just the right thing on one of Vincent’s shelves.

He nodded happily as he approached the chamber entrance. Yeah, this would be excellent. Vincent was great, always willing to help a kid with a problem. For sure he’d lend him that old, dented reflector. It would be perfect! Maybe he could even bring his finished project to class tomorrow!

He skidded to a stop. He should call out first to make sure Vincent actually was in his chamber. It would be wrong to go racing into yet another place he wasn’t supposed to be. And even if Vincent was in there, maybe he was busy with something, like writing in that journal. Maybe he didn’t want to be disturbed.

He felt proud of himself for remembering his manners and his promise. He moved a few steps closer and took a deep breath, but the sound of voices from within made him hesitate.

“I’m so glad you found it!”

“Me, too.”

Good thing he hadn’t barged right in and interrupted. This proved he wasn’t some dorky little kid anymore. 

“When did you realize that’s where we’d left it?”

If only he’d known they’d lost something, he would have helped them find it. Maybe it was something valuable.

“Yesterday. I was looking for a place where my clothes wouldn’t get any wetter, and there it was.”

He sucked in a gasp of air. No! No, no, no, no, no! He shook his head hard. That can’t be what they’re talking about! It has to be something else! But visions of poems and bottles and quilts and that other thing seemed to surround him in the shadows. 

“And you’re sure the children hadn’t found it first?”

“No, it looked completely as it did the way we left it.”

He had to remind himself to breathe. There was still a chance they could be talking about someplace else, right? Maybe they’d lost something at the Mirror Pool or the Great Falls. And Vincent had fallen in when he was looking for it. That was it!

“We thought we’d looked everywhere! I still can’t believe we didn’t think of that little bathing chamber.”

He wished he were in that little bathing chamber right now. With his eyes closed and his head underwater.

A deep laugh rumbled from within the chamber. “Well, you have to admit, we had quite a few places we needed to investigate.”

“You do have a point.” Lilting feminine laughter made his spine prickle. “After all, we have done a lot of…exploring…over the past few weeks.”

“Yes, we have…”

He couldn’t take another second of this. He slapped his hands over his ears. I can’t hear you! I can’t hear you! 

It was like being trapped in a nightmare. But maybe, maybe somehow he was wrong about the whole thing. He had to be sure.

He peeled his hands from his ears and heard the familiar sound of a zipper being pulled open. 

“Oh, good, I’d hoped that’s where it was. It’s one of my favorite bras.”

Okay, that was it! He was out of there!

On swift but silent feet, he sped back toward the boys’ chambers. He would do his math homework. He would put his laundry away. He’d read a book…just not one about pirates. He would go to sleep early and maybe when he woke up, this all really would have been just a terrible dream. It could happen…maybe…

And after breakfast he’d ask Mouse if he had something he could use for his diorama. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. His whole body shuddered. No way he’d be going anywhere near Vincent’s chamber again for a very long time.

His pace slowed as he made a detour toward the kitchen chamber. Before he did anything else, he needed a treat to help him feel better after everything he’d endured. Something sweet. Something like a cookie.

Any kind except coconut.

 _______________

This story was written for the Winterfest Online 2025 Multi-Media Challenge, The prompt was: Eric, a bathing pool, a canvas bag.