The Other Side of Midnight

"Are you staying up at the hotel?" the shopkeeper asked as he counted out Larry's change.

"No," Larry said. "Just passing through on my way to Athens."

"I'd be careful if I was you," the man advised.

Larry looked up at him sharply. "Of what?"

"There's a storm coming up. You can hear the sheep crying."

Larry returned to the hotel at three o'clock. At four o'clock, Larry and Catherine left for the caves. A troubled wind had sprung up, and to the north large thunderheads were starting to form, erasing the sun from the sky.

The Caves of Perama lie thirty kilometers east of Ioannina. Over the centuries tremendous stalagmites and stalactites have formed into the shapes of animals and palaces and jewels, and the caves have become an important tourist attraction.

When Catherine and Larry arrived at the caves, it was five o'clock, one hour before closing. Larry bought two tickets and a pamphlet at the ticket booth. A shabbily dressed guide came up and offered his services.

"Only fifty drachmas," he intoned, "and I will give you the best guided tour."

"We don't need a guide," Larry said, curtly.

Catherine looked at him, surprised by his sharp tone.

He took Catherine's arm. "Come on."

"Are you sure we shouldn't have a guide?"

"What for? It's a racket. All we do is go inside and look at the cave. The pamphlet will tell us anything we need to know."

"All right," Catherine said agreeably.

The entrance to the cave was larger than she had expected, brightly lit with flood lamps and filled with milling tourists. The walls and roof of the cave seemed to be crammed with heroic figures sculpted out of the rocks: birds and giants and flowers and crowns.

"It's fantastic," Catherine exclaimed. She studied the pamphlet. "No one knows how old it is."

Her voice sounded hollow, reverberating against the rock ceiling. Over their heads, stalactites hung down. A tunnel carved into the rock led to a second smaller room that was lit by naked bulbs wired near the ceiling of the cave. There were more fanciful figures in here, a wild profligate display of nature's art. At the far end of the cave was a printed sign that read: Danger: Keep Away.

Beyond the sign was the entrance to a yawning black cavern. Casually Larry walked over to it and looked around. Catherine was studying a carving near the entrance. Larry took the sign and tossed it to one side. He walked back to Catherine.

"It's damp in here," she said. "Shall we leave?"

"No." Larry's tone was firm.

She looked at him in surprise.

"There's more to see," Larry explained. "The hotel clerk told me that the most interesting part is the new section. He said we mustn't miss it."

"Where is it?" Catherine asked.

"Over there." Larry took her arm and they walked toward the rear of the cave and stood in front of the gaping black chasm.

"We can't go in there," Catherine said. "It's dark."

Larry patted her arm. "Not to worry. He told me to bring a flashlight." He produced it from his pocket. "And--voila--see?" He turned it on, and its narrow beam lit up a long dark corridor of ancient rock.

Catherine stood there, staring at the tunnel. "It looks so big," she said uncertainly. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Of course," Larry replied. "They bring schoolchildren here."

Catherine still hesitated, wishing they could stay with the other tourists. Somehow this seemed dangerous to her.