“It’s a special place, yeah,” he says. “You’ll see.” Koji shifts his rucksack from one shoulder to the other. “It’s just down there.” He points toward a ravine covered in vegetation and vines.

When we finally climb down, I can see the entrance of what looks like a cave underneath all the overgrown foliage. I look at him and can’t fathom why Koji would take me here.

“Just wait,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking. He takes out two kerosene lamps from his rucksack and lights each one. “It’s dark in there. Be careful where you step, yeah,” he says. “It’s a lava cave made from an old flow. The rocks are uneven and so sharp it can split open your side like a knife, yeah,” he warns. “I used to come here when I was young.”

I pause and remember Franklin once telling me about the lava cave when I asked him about the scar on his side that traveled to his back. As teenagers, he and Koji and Razor had discovered a cave in the rain forest that no one knew about. They’d spent all the summer weekends exploring it. It was where Franklin had fallen, slicing his side open, leaving the scar my fingers had lovingly traced. Why has Koji taken me here?

I step cautiously into the mouth of the cave, and a cold breath of stale air sends shivers down my back. It smells musty and damp and moldy. We’re suddenly enveloped by darkness so black and thick our lanterns only provide a foggy light a few feet in front of us. In the distance the sound of dripping water echoes.

“There’s a maze of tunnels in here,” he says. “If you take the wrong one, you could be lost in here for the rest of your life, yeah,” he teases.

“You’re not making this any easier,” I respond, my stomach in knots, my patience wearing thin.

He laughs. “I would never let anything happen to you. Leave your lantern here, yeah,” he says. “We only need one.”

I hesitate leaving the light behind, but Koji takes my hand again and leads the way through a low and narrow tunnel that we have to bend over to squeeze through. The light is murky and I feel trapped and frightened. “I can’t,” I whisper, and try not to panic as I pull at Koji’s arm, wanting to back out. Stooped over, it’s hard to walk on the jagged rocks, and I can hardly breathe in the humid, closed space. I begin to feel dizzy and nauseous and think I might faint.

Koji stops and strokes my hand to calm me before saying, “Trust me, yeah, it’s only a little farther.”