Inside the Tunnel

Inside the Tunnel

Chapter 8

     Miss Georgia was so relieved that she sat right flat down on the floor, tears oozing out of her eyes. “Thank the Lord,” she breathed.

     “Georgia! Georgia, look at this,” Abigail cried. “It’s a room or something, but it’s all dark.”

     Georgia took a deep breath. Holding onto the side of the fireplace, she hauled herself to her feet. Abigail’s head was inside the opening.

     “Well, I never saw such a thing,” Miss Georgia said. “Wait a minute, Abby. My flashlight is here somewhere.”

     Grabbing the battery-powered light from her suitcase, Miss Georgia joined Abigail and peered into what did, indeed look like a room. “I do believe it’s a tunnel,” she said.

     Abigail gasped. “A tunnel? In my house? Why, I’ve lived here for years and never heard tell of a tunnel!”

     “A tunnel has got to lead somewhere,” Miss Georgia said. “Come on, Abby, let’s see what’s at the other end of it.

     “What?” Abigail grabbed Georgia’s arm. “No, wait! Don’t go in there. There must be spiders and creepy things.”

     “Surprisingly, it seems to be pretty clear of such things,” Miss Georgia said, as she stepped inside the dark recess. Her flashlight played over a low ceiling and a slanting wood floor.

     “Oh, my goodness! I’d never thought such a thing. Wait a minute, Georgia. I’m going with you.”

     The two women crept slowly along the dark passageway. The darkness seemed to swallow Miss Georgia’s flashlight beam, but it was better than nothing. The floor slanted downward sharply and soon became dirt instead of wood.

     A solid wood wall stopped them. “I think we’ve reached the end of the tunnel,” Miss Georgia whispered.

     “Why are you whispering?” Abigail whispered.

     Why, indeed? Something about a secret passageway inside an old house just seemed to demand quiet.

     Miss Georgia, who was in front of Abigail ran her hand up and down the wall. She was rewarded with a slight movement. “Look, Abby,” she whispered. “I think we can open this.” She paused. “But, maybe I’d better just take a peek first and see where we are.”

     Shivering, Abigail nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “Who knows where we are?”

     Sliding her fingers into the crack, Miss Georgia pulled. The door opened farther. She put her face against the opening and gazed into a small room. As she stared, a woman walked into her field of vision—a woman who was frowning.

     “Come and look, Abby,” she whispered. “Do you know who this is?”

     Squeezing closer to gaze over Miss Georgia’s shoulder, Abigail gasped, so loudly that Georgia was afraid the other woman heard. Then, she stepped back.

     “Close that door, Georgia,” she breathed. “That’s my next door neighbor, Miss Dodson.”

 

 

    

    

 

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