There’s a Patch of Dirt Behind the House

AS LEWIS AND CAITLYN TOURED THE BACKYARD OF THE BEST PROSPECT THEY HAD SEEN SO FAR in their three-month search for a house, they came upon a grassless, concave patch of dirt approximately thirty feet in diameter. According to their real-estate agent, Terry, the patch of dirt was the final remnant of an above-ground pool that had previously stood in that spot.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Terry said, standing before the patch of dirt and holding up her hands in assurance. “It’s just a minor eyesore that can be erased for minimal cost in less than a day.”

Lewis and Caitlyn were married research scientists who worked at the nearby Barrier College. Lewis studied historical geology, and Caitlyn, cosmology. Since both Lewis and Caitlyn cared much more about their work than about the aesthetic nature of their prospective backyard, they went ahead and bought the place without another thought.

On the first night alone in their new house, Lewis and Caitlyn celebrated their purchase with a nice dinner of flat root beer, baby spinach with Italian dressing, and Value King-brand thick and creamy macaroni and cheese. After saving all the money they could spare while living on the meager, insulting salaries of small-school laboratory assistants for the past five years, they savored this meal as if it was an extravagant indulgence.

Around eleven p.m., they peeled off their clothes, stepped into the hot, early September night, and lay on their backs in the center of the concave patch of dirt in the backyard. Since Caitlyn had chosen the roof of the Barrier College Physical Sciences Building as the location of their previous exploration, tonight was Lewis’s turn. And he couldn’t think of a better place than the rich black dirt of the earth that fascinated him so.

The soil felt cool and spongy against their bare backs and bottoms. The crescent moon showered them with shimmering silver light. Cicadas and frogs filled the air with primordial croaks and buzzing. Though he knew all the answers in advance, and she had memorized all his foreplay questions when they were undergraduates years ago, Lewis started things off in the traditional manner.

Will we ever know what lies outside the observable universe?

Does a blue shift mean the light is coming toward us or moving away?

What’s the most accurate value we have of the cosmic microwave background radiation?

As Caitlyn answered his questions, her voice grew husky, heavy, breathless. Their bodies drew together. Their hands began exploring.

A few minutes later, in the midst of their lovemaking, Caitlyn heard the distant howl of a wolf. A second wolf answered. Then, a third. But none of these howls echoed through the night as Caitlyn expected. Instead, they sounded strangely muffled, as if each dog was howling into the wrong end of a traffic cone. Listening to these odd, muted howls, Caitlyn halted her and Lewis’s lovemaking. Lewis craned his head to the side and waited for her to speak. Caitlyn pointed at the crescent moon. Lewis looked up.

Wolves, Caitlyn whispered to Lewis.

Wolfies, Lewis said, looking down at her and grinning.

That’s funny, Caitlyn said, with a quiet giggle. But why do you think their howls sound so strange?

I don’t know, Lewis said. Maybe it’s the distance that’s having a distorting effect. They sound pretty far away.

Yeah, maybe, Caitlyn said, shaking her head. What did you call them just now?

What, wolfies?

Yeah. Where did you come up with that?

That’s what me and my brother used to call them when we were kids. To this day I still call them that in my head.

Wolfies, Caitlyn said, gulping a warm breath. I like that.

Yeah, me too, Lewis said. He blinked a few times and resumed making love to his wife.

It started to drizzle. Soon Lewis and Caitlyn were smeared with a mucky mixture of rainwater and sweat and chocolate-colored dirt. Not long after, they began sinking into the ground. But with Caitlyn on top, they didn’t see the need to stop quite yet. Instead, they whispered scientific questions to each other and listened to the slop and suck and slap of the runny mud squelching beneath them. Lost in the ecstatic throes of their sexual and intellectual explorations, they allowed themselves to sink and sink and sink, until the earth swallowed them completely.

How deep did they go? Not far. Moments later the ground collapsed beneath them and they fell into a cavernous grotto of soft black dirt and silver-blue stone.

After confirming Caitlyn was okay, Lewis wrapped his arms around his wife and scanned the sparkling grotto.

Jiminy Christmas, he said, still whispering, his tailbone aching from the impact of the fall. Look at this place.

Wow, Caitlyn said, looking around. It’s so pretty.

What kinds of rocks do you think those are? Lewis said, gesturing with his chin at the silver-blue walls of the grotto. They’ve got to be granitic since we’re nowhere near the ocean, but I can’t tell from here. It looks like limestone with some apatite and quartz mixed in. Maybe even some celestine. What do you think?

I don’t know, Caitlyn said. Rocks and minerals . . . that’s your bag, baby.

Lewis was too distracted by the rock walls of the grotto to laugh at her joke, so she followed his gaze and studied the pretty minerals. Soon the breathless thrill of a new scientific mystery began pumping through her body. Ever since she learned about the structure of the atom in her sixth grade science class with Mrs. Taylor, there had been nothing more exciting than discovering a new, unexplained scientific mystery. Years later in undergrad, when she and Lewis combined their scientific curiosity of the material universe with their sexual explorations of one another’s bodies, they stumbled upon something intoxicating and extraordinary. With these thoughts screaming through her brain, she grasped Lewis’s chin, turned his face toward her, and asked him to explain the principle of cross-cutting relationships in rock strata.

As Lewis whispered about thrust faults and bedding planes and angular unconformities, Caitlyn eased him to the damp floor of the grotto. Amid their soft moans and sticky smooching, three wolfies erupted from the dirt beside them. Lewis and Caitlyn ignored the wolfies; the exhilarating grip of this new exploration was too powerful to break. The wolfies didn’t mind. Instead, they trotted circles around the lovers and howled up at the shining blade of the crescent moon, their huge pink tongues dangling from their dripping mouths.