“Miss,
where’s sir?” asks Maeve as the group lines up in the courtyard for the day’s
outing.
“Mr. MacFadden has been called away
unexpectedly so I will divide you into two groups instead of three.”
“Miss, are we going to the caves today?”
“You are, and I want no messing, Johnny Dolan.”
“Miss, why did Mr. Mac have to go anyway?”
“We leave in five minutes,” says Carol Scully
gesturing to Annie for a word. “I’ll take the boys and you have the girls,
Annie.”
“What? In a co-ed school? No, let’s just do it
alphabetically.”
Annie’s group turn out to be a motley crew,
but with Corr gone and Madden not included Annie is hopeful that most disasters
can be averted.
They
arrive at the Ailwee
Caves
“We can expect the adrenals to get a shock
after all that wholesome vegan hostel food. Slow carbs goodbye!” says Annie.
****
“You can
only walk one abreast, and mind the slippery pathways,” warns the guide, a
second year geography student on Easter holidays from UCD. He begins his speel
about stalactites and stalagmites to the usual lurid suggestions that pillars
and columns look like great big dicks. Puerile humour, would they ever outgrow
it? Holiday in and out, Richard Roche listens to this banter. The girls giggle,
the boys mouth on, until he turns off the lights and warns of a possible
failure in electrical connections and the possibility that they might have to
remain silent in the cave for a few hours, as any unnecessary sound could cause
rocks to loosen and walls to collapse. After a few disbelieving guffaws they
usually quieten down and he treats them to a lecture on crystallization,
surface erosion, grikes and clints, underground water systems and permeability.
Once concluded the lights will miraculously return and he will suggest a speedy
and orderly retreat while the window of opportunity lasts. He is doing them a
favour, and the teachers are always grateful.
“Miss, I’m claustrophobic,” someone screams
only a few minutes after the lights fail. This is followed by a frantic
scuffling and pushing that sends one student hurtling through the rope barrier.
When the lights return Johnny Dolan is spotlighted hugging the massive
limestone pillar. The self diagnosed victim of claustrophobia stands over him
with a camera. One student is taking swipes at descending stalactites that have
taken decades to grow an inch and Richard Roche has no option but to push the emergency
button. Sirens wail, lights brighten and a loud speaker requests that the
group proceed immediately to the nearest exit. There is a stampede; more ropes
are transgressed and when Annie finally arrives back into the reception area
with all bodies accounted for she is greeted by the director of the centre
informing her that Seapoint High will never be admitted entrance to Ailwee
caves again.
Everyone
is subdued on the way back in the coach to the Bog Hostel Centre.
“Jaysus, Miss, the place was freezin’ anyway,” Johnny Dolan attempts to console.
“Mr. Doyle will not be impressed with this,” she
quips back.
“Besides, Johnny,” complains Maeve, “I didn’t
even get to see anything.”
Sobbing starts and the body of students that
had not had the opportunity to misbehave inside the caves make their grievances
heard at the top of their lungs.
“Would yous ever shut it!” declares one of the
H.Dips. “MacDonald’s in Gort if I don’t hear another word out of yous!”
An uneasy silence takes over the
bus and Annie's thoughts roam onto the possibility of venturing out into an alternative
career. Her discipline is non existent; maybe she could try map making or road
surveying, anything but teaching. Tears cloud Annie’s vision now as a road sign
alerts her to the proximity of Gort and the predictable ordeal of 4D creating
havoc in MacDonald’s.
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