Write About Going Underground

I had heard rumors of the tunnels.  They supposedly criss-crossed under the city and were used to smuggle illegal gin or tussled up kids to the slaver ships.  If course, that was all they were, rumors, so I never paid them much attention.  I was busy just trying to get by.  Trade was down and my usual haunts were quickly drying up.  I probably never would have even steeped foot underground if it weren't for Umberto.

Umberto is my half brother.  He's loyal as a dog and about as smart.  Jules says I should have ditched him long ago but some last soft part of my heart won't let me.  So Umberto follows me around, always underfoot, always sorry, and always a pain.  I know he was trying to help when he managed to lose out savings.  I told myself that while I counted slowly to twenty but it didn't do much good.  I had carefully stashed every last farthing we owned into the side of this old cardboard box.  I slit it so gently, you couldn't even tell the money was in there.  It was a perfect hiding place.  So perfect, that Umberto tossed the box in an attempt to clean the place up.  So it was gone.  All of it.  All that was left was my anger and Umberto who was crying and apologizing all in the same breath.

I stormed out of our room, down the stairs, and into the alley that lead behind the building.  I was somewhere between desperate and furious and wasn't exactly aware of where I was going.  My head was in turmoil and my feet where on their own.  They lead me down to the wharf.  It was late, and the air was cool and salty.  I remember grabbing the railing and staring at my white knuckles while my mind raced looking for an answer.  I don't know how long I stood there but it must have been a while because I saw the movement out of the corner of my eye.  Just a flutter of something darker than black down below me.  I was aware of the shuffle of feet and a muttered curse.  It took me a minute to realize that what I was seeing was an abduction.  Three men had a kid bundled up in a black blanket.  One at the feet, the other the head.  The third held open a section of what looked like a stone wall.  The blanket was limp and unresistant but it was clearly a small body.  Why I stood there, motionless, I don't know.  Maybe I was in shock.  Maybe some survival instinct still functioned under my rage. But for whatever reason, I watched in silence as the three men walked up the gangplank to the moored ship before them and disappeared below deck.

Remember now, I was desperate.  Hard times call for hard choice so don't judge me just yet.  I hopped the railing and found myself in front of the immovable stone wall.  Only I knew it moved.  Carefully, my hand felt the rocks and mortar looking for the catch.  It didn't take long to find and soon the stone moved for me as well.  With the moon to my back, I peered down into the darkness.  The tunnel was crude but roomy.  The sides were dirt with some wooden support beams.  I could only see a few feet ahead and then the air turned black.  A deep, heavy black not of mystery.  This black smothered.  There was no way I was going one step further without a good torch and some back up.  Carefully, I swung the stone wall closed and padded back to my rooms for my half-brother.  Perhaps, just perhaps, our troubles could be solved tonight.