Sweet and Sour in Writing

When I wrote my first book, one of the complaints I received—and rightly so—was that it only had one storyline. I believe that the reviewer said that it was actually a tale as opposed to a novel. Since then, I’ve tried to make sure that I weave different elements together to enhance the overall story, much the way that one seasoning can bring out the flavor of another.

Recently I read and reread the Counterfeit and Mummy’s the Word, and loved the way both Rob and Kerry used humor to enhance tension. Perfect sweet and sour combination. Here’s a snippet from the book that got me my national agent, using humor to make a scary situation a little more intense. (At least that was the idea.)

“I don’t know if I can make it.” He couldn’t see Two Bears’ light and his own headlamp glowed weakly in the tight confines.

“You’ll be fine. Take off your pack and tell me a joke.”

Inhaling deeply, Cal removed his pack and began to edge sideways down the passage. “I don’t know any jokes.”

“Everyone knows a joke.” Two Bears’ voice seemed inexplicably far away. “And no knock-knocks.”

Cal’s headlamp shot awkwardly toward the ceiling and to his left, leaving him unable to see what was ahead. The air down here was considerably colder than it had been on the surface, and he found himself shivering despite the sweat that ran down his back and sides.

“I don’t—” He began to tell Two Bears that he really didn’t know any jokes, when he remembered a dumb story Craig had told him one night while they were on a stake out.

“Okay,” he said, feeling extremely stupid and scared to death all at the same time.

“There’s these three asparagus kids, right.”

“Asparagus?” Two Bears voice sounded a little closer.

“Yeah, asparagus. So they’re screwing around by the railroad tracks. You know, trying to prove which is the bravest. The first one stands on the left rail as a train comes, and jumps off just before it gets there. Then the second one stands in the middle of the tracks. And he jumps off when the next train comes.”

Cal’s face brushed against the wall, smearing his cheek and lips with a foul, powdery soil. He spat, trying to get rid of the sour, mildewed taste in his mouth, but it didn’t help.

“Go on,” Two Bears called back.

“Well,” Cal tried to draw in a deep breath but his chest wouldn’t seem to expand, “the last kid really wants to impress the other two so he stands on the right track and just as the train gets there, he jumps over the left track. But the train clips him see and he goes flying down the side of the hill.”

Three more sidling steps and he could feel the walls brushing against both his chest and back. “Two Bears,” he called, his heart pounding.

There was no answer.

As he pushed farther into the passage, a sharp chunk of rock, embedded in the earth behind him, dug into his back. Twisting his shoulders, he attempted to readjust his position.

“They, uh, call the asparagus ambulance and these asparagus EMTs start CPR while they rush him to the asparagus hospital.” Cal tried to concentrate on the story, struggling to keep himself from panicking. But he could feel his mind starting to waver.

“And this, uh, asparagus doctor rushes him into surgery, but . . .”

Dirt crumbled from the wall in front of him, falling into his eyes. He couldn’t get his hand up to brush it out. The passage was too tight. He wasn’t going to be able to make it through.

He tried to back out, but somehow he had managed to slide past the edge of the rock and now it blocked his retreat. He was stuck.

“Two Bears, where are you?” he shouted. He tugged on the rope, but it seemed to be jammed as well. Two Bears couldn’t have gone far. When he realized that Cal wasn’t following him, he would come back. Closing his eyes Cal took several long slow breaths, but the cold, dank air felt heavy and lacking in oxygen.

He could feel his heart racing. He needed to relax; getting excited would only make matters worse. Something brushed against the back of his neck, skittered across his skin, and dropping down the collar of his shirt. It felt like a thick, hairy spider, he slammed his head against the wall, and a shower of rocks and dirt cascaded onto him.

It was coming down. This part of the shaft had collapsed before and now it was caving in completely. Panic raced through his body like a wildfire. He slammed his shoulders to the left and right, trying to break free. The walls no longer felt like dirt and rock at all, but rather fingers clutching at him—holding him in place while they buried him alive.

He couldn’t breathe. Hands pressed on his chest and back, keeping his lungs from expanding. A whisper of childish laughter blew across his ear. He stretched his hand out, reaching for any kind of purchase.

Something cold and clammy closed on his fingers, and he screamed.
Chapter 30

“You’re all right.”

Cal gasped, sucking the cold air into his burning lungs. He was standing on the floor of the mine, Two Bears gripping his hand firmly.

“Thought I was a goner. How’d you—”

He turned to look at the shaft, sure that it had caved in completely, and was shocked to see that other than a few rocks scattered across the floor it was unchanged. His backpack and rope lay abandoned on the ground.

“Heard you calling and thought maybe you were stuck,” the old man said, his eyes darting toward the passage.

Realizing that he still held Two Bears’ hand locked in a death grip, Cal unclasped his fingers and stepped warily to the opening. It was narrow, but nothing like the vice that had squeezed the air from his lungs only seconds earlier. Edging over to retrieve his pack, ready to bolt at the first sign of anything out of the ordinary, he crouched and hooked a shoulder strap with one hand. Slowly he stood.

“Guess maybe I caught myself on something,” he said.

“Guess so,” Two Bears agreed, but he didn’t look any more convinced than Cal felt.

“I must have panicked. I thought that . . .” Cal stepped into the mineshaft, letting his words fade away. He was unsure of exactly what he had just experienced.

“It can happen.”

“What can happen?” Cal glanced uneasily back toward the opening.

“Claustrophobia,” Two Bears answered. “Mine fever. Seen fellows enter a shaft for the first time and just run headlong into the walls. Knock themselves clean out.”

Cal had never had problems with closed spaces before, but whatever it was seemed to have passed.

“What happened?” Two Bears asked.

“Guess I just panicked, like you said.”

“Not to you,” said Two Bears, completely serious. “What happened to the asparagus? Did he live?”

“Yeah. But he was a vegetable.”