“Don’t look down, come on. You’re nearly there.”
“It was Yedida, her head poking from the hole, giving reassuring comfort to the novice climber.
Just as he thought the job was complete, his worst fears came and smacked him in the face. Against all instinct and advice he looked down and froze, directly above part of the choral group. He reached forward with his left hand to move closer to the trap door but in an instant his foot slipped on the rope. He fell dramatically away from the ladder, desperately hanging on with one hand. In a state of panic, he swung the free arm towards the ladder as he swung backwards and forwards, certain he would fall. Then he felt Yedida’s arm grab his as she shouted firmly to hold on. Below, the choral group were oblivious to the goings-on overhead, as the melodies got more and more intense.
“Swing backwards and forwards and try to grab the ropes, Ed,” she cried down to him. Soon he had done just that and was swinging his whole body so he could get his feet back on the rungs of the ladder. It took some while but finally he achieved his objective and was clambering up into the small hole and into a large tunnel. The young lady helped, securely taking both hands, pulling him up and into the opening and to safety. Ed collapsed on his back on the floor, astounded by the events.
“Thank goodness bodily functions are off the menu. I would most certainly have crapped myself there and then, Yedida. Sorry for the graphic.”
“No problem. Honestly, very few people have the guts to do that climb. You’re one of probably five percent. Congratulations.”
“What would happen to me if I fell anyway, seeing as I'm already dead?”
“Good question. It would definitely hurt I know that much.”
“There must have been a situation in the past where someone injured themselves badly, broke a leg or even something fatal?”
“Yes, there has. It is hard to explain but they kind of melt away and go missing for a few days. Then they reappear some while later unscathed and oblivious of whatever went on. Mysterious really. Anyway, look back through the hole at the choir,” replied Yedida.
Ed moved closer back towards the hole and peered through. It was an impressive sight, the spiralled walkways spinning round and round the hall with the choir like tiny ants in a red sand garden. The brilliant wash of melody and harmony whispered up through the hole and around into the tunnel.
“Mind out, I need to close this,” said Yedida, as she grabbed the trap door and flipped it shut.
“Look, check this out,” she added, as she pulled the door open by an inch or so.
“Squint your eyes and look out through the opening, Ed.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, you’ll see,” she replied. Ed did as she said and squinted at the partially open trap door.
“I can’t believe it,” he gasped, astonished by the myriad of rainbow colours that jetted through the small gap.
“What is it?”
“It’s the music. I told you they were working with colours. You can see them if you close your eyes but it really gets exciting when the music squeezes through a small gap on the light. Far out eh?” replied Yedida, as she finally closed the door.
“Yes, indeed.”
They both got up and began walking down the tunnel, which was slightly bigger than the previous tunnels but equally adorned with back lit vines and dazzling red sand. They walked for a few minutes in silence but then Ed couldn’t help but ask about the tattoo on the young lady’s forearm.
“I noticed the tattoo on your arm, Yedida. I hope you don’t mind me asking about that?”
“Actually I was going to tell you about myself anyway. There are no secrets in here and it’s really important to get to know what makes people who they are. I really need to explain my complex family history to you first though. It’s quite a ride, trust me,” exclaimed Yedida vulnerably.
“I’m a good listener,” replied Ed, as they continued walking through the dramatically back lit vine-coated tunnels.
“Well, way back, my family comes from Africa. Not sure exactly where. My great grandfather had been slaved and ended up in Cuba. His son ended up in southern America and somehow after all that, after the abolition, my mother ended up in Germany, finally to be married to a white German tailor. It was not an easy place to be black at the time. The First World War had ended and Germany was on its knees, crippled by the financial demands of the coalition of Europe and America. It helped give rise to the Nazi party who gradually went from strength to strength.”
“Yes, I know all about that,” replied Ed.
“Our family was okay though. My father worked hard and made a real success out of his business and my mother did absolutely everything to give me a stable and loving upbringing. She was my heroine. I went to college, studied and passed my law exams with flying colours and really got some good opportunities. However, the Nazis were going from strength to strength and starting to take a hold on the infrastructure of the country. They had lots of gangs of thugs that would beat up communists, gays, Jews, blacks and anyone else that took their fancy. After some years it started to become hell on the streets. We knew we would be targeted at some point but repressed the facts and thought that one day sense and logic would prevail and everything would be alright. How wrong we were.