Opportunity is Knocking (A Lascaux Narrative) | Teen Ink

Opportunity is Knocking (A Lascaux Narrative)

May 22, 2021
By Peterman24 BRONZE, Camas, Washington
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Peterman24 BRONZE, Camas, Washington
4 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
'People don't slip, time catches up with them' -Nat (King) Cole


It was September 12, 1940, and the hills of Dordogne, France had never looked so beautiful. Rain pattered against my window as I peered out at the green ripples of grass that stretched to the horizon. In the distance, the Dordogne river flowed silently through the valley. Fog wound around the trees in my front yard as the sun tried to shine through to spread its warm light on my house like butter on bread. I turned my head away from the window and slid off my bed. My room was small but cozy. A small armchair sat in the corner next to an even smaller bookshelf, an old dresser stood in a corner, and a desk sat in another. I looked around at my bed, the headboard rested right next to the window, so that when the sun came up in the morning, it would shine on my face. I frowned, yes, sometimes that got quite annoying. I walked over to my dresser and grabbed a pile of clothes off the top. Whenever I wanted to get out of the house super early in the morning, I layed out clothes for the day the night before so I wouldn’t have to waste time picking them, and today I was supposed to meet my best friends for a game of hide and seek in the woods. We had been planning it for weeks, and it was going to be so awesome. I thought wistfully about my plans for a few minutes before realizing I had just been standing in front of my dresser holding a bundle of clothes. I silently cursed myself and started getting dressed. I pulled on my clothes, my outfit consisted of a simple long sleeve white collared shirt, gray slacks, gray socks, and simple shoes. I tugged on my collar, not the best shirt for tag, but it’s one of my only shirts my mother lets me wear to the woods. As I examined my outfit, I heard my mother call me downstairs for breakfast. I opened my door to head downstairs, and the smell of breakfast hit me like a pile of bricks. I could smell fresh buttered croissants and jam, fried eggs, and coffee. I ran down stairs, hearing the pop of fried eggs on the stove getting closer with every step. I entered my kitchen to see my dad sitting at the small, round breakfast table in the sunroom, reading the newspaper. My mother had just laid a plate piled high with fresh strawberries in the middle of the table. I pulled out a chair, sat down, and tasted one of them. They tasted perfect, as always. My mother does this thing where she sprinkles a bit of sugar on top of the strawberries and stirs them around to make them just a bit sweeter. I helped myself to a croissant as my mother placed a glass of orange juice next to my plate.


“Good morning George,” my mother said, smiling at me.


“Morning mother,” I replied, taking a big bite out of my croissant.


“Big plans for today?” my dad asked, “We usually don’t see you up and dressed this early in the morning.” He chuckled to himself from behind his newspaper.


“Yeah, remember?” I said, “Marcel, Jaques, Simon and I are all meeting up to play hide and seek in the woods.”


“Right,” my mother said, “Well, it rained quite a bit last night, so try not to get your clothes too muddy.”


“I understand,” I said, with just a hint of exasperation added to my voice, but not so much that she would notice.


I looked out the window and spotted my three friends riding down the faded dirt path that led to the woods.


“Got to go!” I said, finishing the rest of my breakfast and getting up from the table.


I was almost to the mudroom when my mother yelled at me to come put my dishes in the sink. I sighed as I slowly walked back to the kitchen, I had almost avoided it.

A couple minutes later, I was on my bike and riding quickly down the dirt path that led to the woods.


Usually when I ride, I become lost in my thoughts as my body subconsciously guides my bike where I want to go. Today was not an exception, by the time I had left my neighborhood behind, I was deep in the fantasy world of a story I was writing.


I was so absent minded I didn’t notice a big pothole in the middle of the path. My front tire dipped down as I was lifted a couple inches out of my seat. I yelled out in surprise as my bike tipped sideways, right into a giant puddle.


“Aw, c’mon.” I said, annoyed, trying to brush the mud off my shirt. The mud smeared where I tried to wipe it off, it was not a very good idea.


I got up and started walking my bike down the path. When I had been walking for about 5 minutes I saw my friends up ahead. I started running towards them, my heart beating faster and faster.


‘Hi guys!’ I said, panting.


‘Hey George,’ said Marcel, my best friend out of the group. He had black hair tied back in a short ponytail, skin the color of coffee, and eyes the color of the sky. He also had a Labrador Retriever named Robot who he had decided to bring along.


‘Why are you all muddy?’ asked Simon, pushing his glasses back up his freckled nose. 


‘I accidentally rode into a pothole,’ I said sheepishly.


Jaques gave a small chuckle and glanced over at me from where he was standing by a fallen tree. He had emerald green eyes and short brown hair. I blushed and smiled at him.


A long silence followed. Then, Marcel clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, now that everyone’s here, let’s get started. Who wants to be the seeker first?’


‘Not me,’ Simon, Jaques, and I said in unison.


‘Ok, ok, I’ll be it,’ Marcel said, scratching Robot behind the ears. He closed his eyes and started to count.


‘1… 2… 3…’


I started running deeper into the forest, trying to be as quiet as possible.


‘4… 5… 6…’


Once I was far enough away, I started looking for hiding spots. My eyes scanned the surrounding trees. A bush, no. Behind a tree, no.


‘13… 14… 15…’


What!? How was he already on 15!?


I ducked behind a rock and waited for him to finish counting.


‘Psst, hey George,’ hissed a voice behind me. I jumped and turned around to see Simon beckoning to me from the fog.


‘What?’ I whispered back angrily. Marcel was now on 23.


‘Follow me,’ he said, ‘I found the best hiding spot!’


I had a small debate with myself in my mind. My hiding place kind of sucked, the only thing keeping me from being spotted was the dense cloud of fog all around us. However, Simon sometimes deliberately chose a bad hiding spot, made a noise, and ran away before you knew what was happening, but I figured I would be prepared, and so I decided to follow him.


‘Okay, where’s this so-called great hiding spot,’ I asked.


‘Just, follow me, okay?’ Simon said, clearly frustrated.


I got up and started following Simon through the trees. It was a short walk, but Marcel was definitely done counting by now, and both Simon and I were on edge, knowing we could be found any second.

We came upon a small, grassy clearing that seemed devoid of the fog. At the far side of a clearing was a medium sized cave hollowed out into the earth.


I caught my breath, ‘Whoa… What is this place?’


Simon grinned, ‘I have no idea, but isn’t it so cool?’


I walked up to the cave and put my hand on one of the walls. It was wet from rain and the texture was rough.


I heard rustling in the trees behind me, and whirled around. Marcel and Jacques came crashing out of the forest, both looking a little disheveled. Marcel had a few twigs caught in his hair, and Jacques’s shirt had small rips in it, both of them had scratches all over their faces and arms.


‘What happened to you guys?’ I asked, eyes wide.


Jacques put his hands on his knees and started laughing, ‘I was looking for a hiding spot, and saw a gap in the blackberry bushes. I tried to hide there and got stuck, Marcel found me and had to pull me out.’


‘Guys,’ Simon said quietly.


Marcel glared at Jacques, ‘That was such a stupid place to hide, why did you even try to hide there?’


‘Guys,’ Simon said, a little louder this time.


‘Oh, don’t you start,’ Jacques shot back, ‘I’ve seen you hide in plenty of stupid places before!’


As Marcel opened his mouth to retort, Simon shouted, ‘Guys!’

 

They both looked over at Simon, ‘What?’ they said in unison.


‘Look!’ He pointed towards the cave.


Everyone looked over at the cave entrance, Marcel and Jaques with bored looks on their faces that slowly turned to expressions of shock.


‘What the heck,’ said Marcel quietly.


‘What is this,’ asked Jacques.


‘It’s a cave, stupid.’ Marcel answered, still staring at the entrance with wide eyes.

‘I know what it is,’ Jacques said, annoyed, ‘I just mean, like what kind of cave?’


I grinned at the others, ‘Well,’ I said, ‘let’s find out.’


They all walked up to the cave entrance and stood beside me. Robot, who I just noticed was there, was wagging his tail like crazy.


We all slowly walked inside and looked around. I could see something on the walls, but I couldn’t quite tell what it was. I squinted to try and see the walls better, then my eyes widened. There were cave paintings all over the walls. Bulls and horses painted in red and orange shades that looked like they were stampeding across the walls. There were even some smaller paintings of people standing in circles.


‘This is amazing,’ murmured Marcel.


‘Agreed,’ whispered Jacques.


‘Yeah,’ breathed Simon.


We were all beyond amazed. Even Robot, who was jumping up at the walls to try and attack the horses and bulls.


‘We need to tell someone about this,’ said Simon, ‘This could be a huge scientific breakthrough!’


Marcel considered this proposal and said ecstatically, “Yeah, then we can be famous!”


We all relished that idea for a while. When, finally, Jacques broke the silence.


‘Let’s go to the school and talk to our science teacher.’


Marcel made a face, ‘Why our science teacher? Why not the head of a newspaper or something?’ 


‘Because,’ Jacques said with an exasperated sigh, ‘she might know more about this than a newspaper editor. That’s practically her job, to know science stuff!’


We all nodded in agreement, our science teacher knew a lot about… well, pretty much everything. She was definitely one of the smartest people we knew.


‘Well, let’s go then,’ Simon said, running out of the cave.


It was a short bike ride to the school, which was, for some reason, left open on a Saturday afternoon.


We pushed through the doors to find our science teacher standing in the middle of the hallway, drinking coffee and looking at a small stack of papers she was holding.


‘Ms. May!’ shouted Jaques, clearly forgetting that Ms. May was easily startled.


She jumped and looked around. ‘Oh, hello!’ she said when she saw us.


‘You’ll never believe this,’ Simon said excitedly, ‘but, we were playing hide and seek in the woods today and you know how it's a really foggy day, well, funny story…’


‘We found a cave,’ Marcel said, interrupting him, Simon glared at Marcel.


‘And inside it were cave paintings,’ I cut in, getting to the point.


Ms. May gasped, “Cave paintings?” She was so surprised, she dropped her cup of coffee on the floor.


Then, she ran into the office to find a telephone, dialed a number we couldn’t make out, and stood there for a few seconds before talking on the line.


‘Hello, yes,’ She said into the phone, ‘yes, cave paintings. Where? In Dordogne, France. Ok, we’ll be waiting at the school in town.’ Then she hung up the phone and looked at us, I shifted uncomfortably.


‘Well,’ she said, ‘scientists will be coming to look at the cave in a few minutes, so I suggest we head outside and wait for them.’ And with that, we all walked out the front door of the school to share the newest scientific discovery.



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