Memories Found

September 2001 was unlike any other. Pennington was dead. At least he thought so for an instant. His senses were confused. Those God given senses he took for granted every moment of his life were in turmoil. The total darkness confused his vision. Eyes open or shut, it all seemed the same. There was a deafening silence as well. All of this had a frigid finality to it. He was in a squeeze. He tried to move but couldn’t. He was flat on his back. His hands and feet were tied. He felt a chill. All of his extremities were numb. He was still dazed from the blow to his head. How long have I been out? He felt each click of life’s grand clock ticking by ever so slowly. Time was nearly standing still, or at least passing in slow motion. Was it day or night he wondered. Did it really matter? He had no way to tell and could not remember yet. One thing he did know. If that throbbing headache on his left temple kept up, he would blow his cookies any minute. There was no extra space for that kind of stuff. He did his best to keep that Italian dinner he last remembered eating from traveling up his esophagus. The air was growing thin quickly. It reminded him of the top of Pike’s Peak. He once drove up the famous mountain in a Lincoln town car. He can still sense the fear he felt that day as the tires struggled to stay on the narrow roadbed. That sound of the tires skidding on the loose gravel still gave him goose bumps. He was beginning to grow faint. In fact, the headache was the only feeling keeping him awake. Pennington knew if he intended to stay alive much longer, it was time to figure a way out. What would MacGyver’s next move be if he was here in Pennington’s place? I am sure the television hero must have been buried in a coffin with no obvious escape in some episode. Another wave of nausea struck along with sweats and mild shortness of breath. The air supply was quickly dwindling. Time was short. Think hard. Concentrate. Stay awake! Barely conscious, he thought he heard a faint tapping sound. It was distant at first. It grew louder. That’s a shovel. They are digging me out. I am being rescued. Thank God. The digging was taking longer than he thought he could stand. Jesus, come on, I can’t wait much longer. Hurry up, will ya!. I am not kidding. I am out of air. The digging was just above him now. It sounded so near that he felt he could reach for the shovel head if he had the space. He could hear the dirt being thrown aside. Then there was a loud thud. The top of the box shook violently as though it would splinter into a thousand pieces.