Cave Dwellers by Héctor González

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He seemed familiar. I stood there for a minute or two. Then I finally saw who the boy was. Me. I shouted.

Then I heard noises coming though the rocks. I turned off my flashlight quickly and ran outside. I left the gun inside. I couldn't go back now. I heard the humming. I was about to exit the cave when I tripped and fell. The humming was getting near. I turned around but there was no one there. I stood up. I felt someone touching my shoulder.

It was old farmer Roland.

--What happened to you son?—he asked—you seem troubled.

--Nothing, I thought I saw something—I said. I contained myself from talking about the cave.

--You entered the caves?—too late.

--Just for a second--i lied

--You saw something.

--A couple of shadows. They scared me--i lied again.

--Never enter the caves son-- He said. I wanted to shout why? But I didn't. I contained myself again.

--I guess I should be heading home now--i was starting to get nervous because of the look of Roland. He seemed to know i was lying.

--All right son. Take care.

As I headed back home I had a last glance at the caves. I couldn't hear the humming. But I could see the lights. Old Farmer Roland was nowhere to be seen. I could have sworn he entered the caves.

The next morning at sun's first sight I ran to the caves. There was no smoke so I could see it from far away. I entered quickly. There were no statues, but that I expected. There were no paintings. There was no command. The cave was empty again.

Even today, now and then, I head to the caves and see them from the outside. I still look for animals in the rocks, but each time I look, I find less and less. Maybe it's because I'm getting old. Sometimes I still see the strange lights, but I never saw the statues again. And the humming. God, I hate that humming.