We'd been in drought conditions for months…wildfires burning out of control; ponds and lakes drying up; flora and fauna suffering and dying; sinkholes appearing out of nowhere. Sinkholes were becoming increasingly frequent phenomena in Florida, due to increased demands on the Floridan aquifer and also as a result of the drought. As the water table dropped, underground caverns were exposed, and without the stabilizing pressure of the water in them, these caverns often crumbled in on themselves, causing sinkholes. One of the most notable sinkholes occurred in the early 80's, when it appeared next to a car dealership in a major city and swallowed up several cars and a home.

It was now the first Sunday in November, and it looked as though it was going to be a long, dry, treacherous winter in Central Florida. The news this morning had reported yet another sinkhole, this one threatening several residences in a suburb of Orlando, plus four separate wildfires consuming thousands of acres of parched land. Last night the weather had turned breezy and cool, the humidity had dropped to 40%, and, despite the pending calamities, I'd decided to take a long walk through my favorite wilderness refuge about an hour's drive northeast from my home. Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge contains over 18,000 acres of marsh, swamp and upland that border the St. John's River. This was the beginning of the migratory bird season in Florida, and being an amateur birder, I hoped that I'd catch a glimpse of some of the more rare migrants.

I love walking, especially alone. Usually on excursions such as this, I carry a small backpack containing water, a snack, a birder's field guide or two, insect repellent, sunscreen, and a rain poncho "just in case." But today, I wanted to travel light and didn't plan on being out there all that long. Besides, it was a cool (for Florida) day…about 70 degrees, no rain in the forecast, and the wind would keep the 'skeeters at bay. So, all I took was my binoculars, leaving my other provisions in my car at the designated parking area, parked next to the only other car there.

What a glorious day! The absence of humidity allowed for the brilliant blueness of the sky, and not a cloud in sight. A strong, cool breeze played through the dry reeds growing in what was left of the marsh, and they danced and bobbed and rustled merrily. There were plenty of birds to see: Snowy egrets, great blue herons, cormorants, grebes, white ibis, and even some wood storks, unusual in this park. I walked for at least an hour with only the sound of the wind, the rustling reeds, and the cacophony of the various birds thrilling my ears. As I approached an intersection where one trail of the park crosses another, I opted for the right-hand trail and saw a man about 50 feet ahead of me, walking in my direction. Ah, this must be the occupant of the other car in the parking lot.

I'm a streetwise, independent woman of 28, single, and I've been told I'm beautiful. I don't date much, preferring instead to use my energy to write, draw and paint, garden, and take long, satisfying walks. Walking through this wilderness refuge in no way feeds on any fears that I, as a woman alone, might have for my safety, and I was not fearful now. I often encounter solitary strangers such as myself out in these remote places, and have had some very interesting conversations with some of them. As we drew nearer each other and I prepared to emit a cheerful "Good morning," I saw that he was wearing sunglasses, what looked like a woolen cap of some sort, worn jeans, an old long-sleeved shirt, and boots. His dark hair was shoulder length, and he had a goatee. He was tall, lean, and looked to be about my age. I remember thinking, "Nice scenery." Suddenly, I felt a shudder, and then the ground beneath my feet dissolved.

Falling, tumbling, pain, rocks, dust, chaos. I heard someone cry out; maybe it was me. Then nothingness.

As I slowly regained consciousness, in that hazy, weird, in-between state, my first sensation was that my eyes felt like someone had poured sand in them. I tried to open them, but they were painful, scratchy and involuntarily tearing. I had a sensation of darkness. My mouth was full of grit, my lungs were full of dust, and my left elbow hurt like hell. I brought my right arm up to my eyes, trying to wipe them clean with the sleeve of my flannel shirt. I could feel a bruise in my right ribcage. I heard myself moan, then a coughing fit seized me. I tried to spit out the grit in my mouth. My eyes were still tearing furiously and wanting to stay squeezed shut, but I forced myself to try to open them. I couldn't see anything! Panic seized me, and my mind began racing. I can't see! Blind!!! I'm blind! What happened? Where am I? I'm blind!!! Between coughing spells, I weakly called out, "Help!!! Help!!!" but heard nothing but the hollow echo of my own voice.

Then I heard a soft moan. It wasn't me. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was passing that man on the trail, and then…then… OHMYGOD! An earthquake? No, no way! A sinkhole? Could I be down in a sinkhole? OHMYGOD! More panic as I tried to sit up and my forehead bumped painfully against something close above me. I lay back, trying to catch my breath, to force down the rising panic, to get my senses about me.

I heard another moan, louder this time, then a soft, "What the fuck?"

"Hello?" I queried, then was caught in a coughing spasm.

"What...what...happened?" replied a man's voice, then I heard yet another moan, violent coughing, and gasping.

"I…[cough]…I think we've fallen into a sinkhole," I croaked.

"A what?…[cough]…Aw, man, I can't SEE! [cough-cough] I've got sand or something in my eyes," came his scratchy voice. "Are…[cough]…are you okay?"

"I...I'm not sure…I think I…[cough]…I think I was knocked out." My coughing spasms were subsiding, but my throat was parched and dry and threatening to close up and choke me again at any second, and my mouth was still full of dust and grit.

"A sinkhole? Fuck! [cough]…Ah, my foot is caught….Ahhh, fuck!" he cried out in obvious frustration.

I heard him moving, then heard rocks tumbling and crunching from the direction of his voice, and more moaning, then quiet.

"Easy, try to keep still," I consoled through my own fear. "Let me try to get over to you." My eyes had stopped tearing somewhat, and my vision was beginning to adjust to the dim light. I thought I could see the man's figure lying about six feet away from me, so I slowly crawled toward him as best I could, sharp limestone rubble cutting into my hands and knees, my senses still confounded. Bumping my head again, I swore violently and put my hand up to my head, feeling blood. "Shit!" My elbow, though burning and painful, did not seem to be broken, just badly bruised and probably cut. I finally reached him and touched his arm. "Are you okay?"

Silence. He was lying on his back, his eyes closed. "Hello? Sir? Sir? ARE YOU OKAY?" I shook him a little. With mounting hysteria, my next thought was, "What if he's dead? Oh, God, what if he's DEAD?"

"Ehhh…uhhh…ohhh, fuck! My head…[cough]…[gasp]…my head..."

"Oh, thank goodness!! The notion of being down here with a dead man had damned near unraveled me.

I realized that I was crying, and wiped my eyes and nose on my shirtsleeve. "Keep still, don't move. Let's try to figure out what to do. Don't panic or anything, okay? Just keep still…just keep still…don't move, don't panic." My own voice sounded far away; I was trembling; I was an inch away from panic myself.

"Oh, man. What the hell happened?…[cough…]…A sinkhole? How the fuck did…?"

"I'm not sure, but it MUST be a sinkhole. We were passing each other on the trail, remember? And the next thing I knew, I was falling, and I woke up down here. It MUST be a sinkhole." I spat out more grit, my brain working furiously to regain control of my senses.

"Ah, jeeees…my head…" His voice was weak, almost a whisper.

"Are you bleeding? Here, let me see. My name's Mary. Where are you hurt?" I moved closer to him, feeling more in control of myself.

"John[cough]…Johnny," came his rasping, gasping reply. He lifted his head slightly and put his hand at the back of his head, near his neck. "Back here, I think…"

Even in the dim light, I could see a dark stain on the ground under his head. I tentatively put my fingers on it. Blood…a fair amount of it, too. The hat he'd been wearing was gone. I put my fingers on the back of his head, where he indicated, but couldn't really feel anything other than sticky blood and matted hair. I wiped my hand on my shirt. "Well, you're bleeding…I can't really tell how bad." I looked around for the cap he'd been wearing, thinking that I could put it over the wound, put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. Yes! There it was! I reached over him and grabbed the hat.

"Here, I'm gonna put your hat on the wound and apply some pressure to try to stop the bleeding." I wadded the hat and pressed it against the back of his head, where I hoped the cut was.

"Ahhhhh, man"…[cough]…He was wiggling and twisting and trying to sit up.

"Just try to keep still. I know you're in pain, but please try to keep still."

"Okay…okay…ohhh…my…[cough]…my foot is caught under something…"

"I'll get to that in a minute…just let me try to get this bleeding stopped. Now, BE STILL, PLEASE!" Yep, I was DEFINITELY in control of myself now.

"Okay…[sigh]…thanks…[cough]…sorry…[cough]." He stopped struggling, lay back down, and closed his eyes.

I continued to hold the woolen hat firmly against the wound while he wiped his eyes and his mouth with his shirtsleeve, coughing and wheezing. My eyes were now fully adjusted to our situation, and as I looked around, it wasn't looking good. The hazy, dim light was similar to the last light of dusk, and that led me to believe that we were entombed, unless we'd been lying there unconscious for hours and it was now nighttime. I'd have to investigate further once I made sure this guy wasn't going to croak on me. For the first time in years, I regretted not wearing a watch. Didn't look like my newfound friend was wearing one, either. He moved a little and groaned.

"How're you feeling now?" I asked.

"Ummm…a little better, I think. Just…[cough]…shocked, you know? I…my head hurts…"

"You might have a concussion, so keep still, okay? I just need to check MYSELF over and see if I've got anything I need to tend to, so hang on just a minute, okay? Keep applying pressure."

"Okay…[cough]."

I removed my hand and he held the hat against his wound.

My nerve endings were sending signals to my brain that every inch of my body was in some sort of pain. My elbow was hurting the most, so I rolled over onto my back and rolled up the sleeve of my flannel shirt to check for any cuts. Christ! Cuts and scrapes EVERYWHERE, but nothing life-threatening as far as I could tell. My elbow was badly scraped but bleeding only slightly, oozing and sticking to my shirt sleeve. I unbuttoned my tattered shirt a few buttons and checked my torso…yep, a very sore bruise over my ribcage, some abrasions on my braless breasts, a few slightly bleeding scratches, no biggie. My corduroy jeans had pretty much protected my legs. I'd live. I removed my broken and battered binoculars and tossed them aside. It struck me as miraculous that I'd not suffered anything worse than bruises and scratches, so I took a moment to thank my guardian angels.

Now back to…what was his name? I looked at him. He was lying there looking back at me, squinting and blinking, trying to get the dust out of his eyes, coughing a lot. I could just barely make out his dark eyes, his goatee. He looked familiar, somehow. He'd lost his sunglasses in the fall.

"Okay, I'm in pretty good shape. Let's see your arms, any bad cuts? No, looks like just some minor ones…how're your ribs feeling? You breathing okay? Any pain in your abdomen?" I guessed that those dark spots on his arms and fingers were tattoos, because when I ran my fingers over them, there were no abrasions, no blood.

"I'm okay, just my head…[cough]…and my foot."

"Lemme see what I can do to get your foot free."

His right ankle and foot were caught under a huge mound of boulders, stones, and rubble, but his left leg, bent at the knee, was free and unobstructed. "Is your foot in pain?" I asked.

"No. ….I…uh…I guess it's rocks pinning my foot down…[cough]…but I don't think the full weight of the rocks is on it. It doesn't hurt…[cough]…I just can't get it loose."

"Can you try to turn your foot sideways and maybe slip it out that way?"

He tried, and several rocks and a lot of limestone debris came tumbling down around us.

"Fuck!!! This…[cough-cough]…this ain't gonna work."

That voice…it was so familiar. It sounded like a voice I'd heard many, many times…I dismissed the thought, though…I had more important things to think about right now.

"Well, maybe I can try to move some of the rocks and see if that frees your foot up. Do you hurt anywhere else besides your head? How 'bout your other leg?"

"Ummm…no, some bruises is all, I think…[cough]…nothing major…[cough]…"

I'd SWEAR I knew that voice from somewhere! I looked at him again…really studied his features in the dim light…those dark eyes and eyebrows…that voice…the hair…the cheekbones…the lips. Then the proverbial light bulb clicked on.

"Uh…what'd you say your name was?" I asked weakly, afraid to comprehend the incomprehensible.

"Johnny."

I swallowed hard, remembered to breathe, then asked,

"Your…uh…your LAST name?" I held my breath.

"Depp…I'm…Johnny Depp," he whispered.

I was instantly numb. I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I realized my mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it, hearing my teeth click together as I did so.

"Oh," was all I managed to say, then I finally exhaled sharply.

A VERY long silence, during which I felt my face blushing furiously. I broke out in a sweat. All I could think of was, "This can't be real…this can't be real…this can't be real." I was in worse shock from hearing him speak his name than I'd been when I first regained consciousness after falling into this Godforsaken hole.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked quietly.

Though I couldn't see him very well, I could feel him looking at me intently. I forced myself to look at him, then quickly looked away. This IS real!!! It's HIM! How can this be? I was confused, befuddled, my tongue and brain refusing to work together.

"Uh…well…uh…[sigh]…I guess…uh…well…I…I'm sorry…I…I'm a fan…of yours. I just…I just…I'll be okay in a minute…I'm just…I mean, what in the HELL are you doing here? Why are you HERE? I'm just…surprised! Jesus! I'm sorry…I…I just…I'm just…"

"Lookit…[cough]…what's your name again?" he whispered.

"Mary." I was immensely grateful that at least I knew my own name.

"Mary…[cough]…I…I could really use some water…[cough]…Do you have any water?"

Water! SHIT! I'd left all my gear, including my canteen, in my car. SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

"No, I…I don't have any water with me, I left it in my car. I didn't think I'd be…I'll…I need to…I'll explore around and see if…see if I can find a way outta here, or…or maybe find some water…[a deep breath]…How's your cut doing? Still bleeding?"

My mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, but I was trying to regain my composure, remember my medical training, remember my survival training, and, most important, not look like a blithering idiot in front of Johnny Depp. He removed the compress, and it seemed as though the bleeding had slowed down quite a bit. I wished with all my might that the light were brighter so that I could really get a good look at him. Even in the dark, though, he was incredibly handsome, beautifully real, and my vivid imagination filled in the rest.

"Keep the hat on it, and keep applying pressure. I'm gonna look around, and see if I can get some of those rocks out of the way." I began crawling away from him, reluctantly. He grabbed my arm.

"Be careful, okay?…[cough]…" he whispered. How was it possible that I could see concern in his eyes in this dim light?

"…[gulp]…I'll…I'll be careful, Johnny," I whispered, once again absolutely stunned by his presence, his voice.

The huge pile of rocks and debris entrapping Johnny's leg was unstable, and every time I moved a rock, several came tumbling down around us. We finally both decided to let it be for a while. I wanted to return to him…talk to him…but I knew I needed to focus on a way out.

So I began exploring our cavern. Movement was agonizingly slow. Limestone rubble littered the floor everywhere…razor sharp, treacherous. My hands quickly became freshly bloodied with tiny cuts, my corduroy jeans ripped to shreds at the knees, and my elbow and ribcage continued to vehemently protest. Very harsh reality. I tried to concentrate on careful movement and keep my mind off the crazy, unbelievable twist of fate that had brought Johnny Depp to Florida, to the wilderness refuge, here to my… "Ow!! SHIT!"

"You okay, Mary?…[cough]."

"Yeah, yeah, these rocks are sharp as hell, and my hands are getting sliced up, and I just bumped my fucking head again, but I'm okay. I just need to be more careful."

The sound of his voice had broken my concentration more than the bump on my head had…how in the HELL could this possibly be happening? Here, with Johnny Depp, of all people on earth? My favorite actor, my hero, my obsession, my imaginary lover. "Jesus, get a grip, Mary," I chided myself under my breath.

Slowly, the big picture emerged, and it was sobering. I described to Johnny what I found as I explored our situation. He didn't say much…mostly groaned and coughed. We were indeed entombed. A shelf of limestone had caved in, dropping us about 10 feet down from ground level, or so I figured. A second shelf of limestone, beneath the one that had collapsed, was situated at a steep angle, and we had apparently slid and tumbled down that, coming to rest God knows where and how deep beneath the earth. The collapsing rubble must have closed off the entrance of the cave-in, and that would account for the absence of light. The ceiling of our cave was about 2 feet high in most places, less than that in some. I couldn't stand up, much less sit up, anywhere. I tried crawling up the limestone slab toward where we'd fallen in, but it was at such a steep angle, and slippery with sand and debris, I kept sliding back. I finally gave up, not willing to risk further injury. But, at the other end of the cavern, where the ceiling was so low I had to slither on my belly with my chin hugging the ground, I found a small pool of water, and water trickling out of the rocks into it.

"I've found some water, Johnny!" He said something in reply, but I couldn't hear. I put my lips to the water and took a few tentative sips. I reminded myself that I would never again take water for granted. It was delicious. I swished my mouth several times, attempting to get the grit out, then slithered away and spit the water well away from the pond. Much better! Not wanting to contaminate the pond by washing my hands, I took another mouthful and, again moving away to where I had a little more ceiling room, I emptied the water from my mouth into my hands and washed the dust and blood off as best I could. Then I washed my face; then I drank again, deeply. Now, how to transport water to Johnny?

"Johnny, do you have anything with you that could possibly hold water?"

"I don't think so…[cough]…my shirt…maybe you could sop up water in my shirt?"

As much as the idea of Johnny Depp shirtless tickled my imagination, I knew it wouldn't be feasible. I then considered MY shirt, but again…no.

"No, you'll need your shirt…it's already cold down here, and it's gonna get colder."

"You don't have anything, Mary?"

"No, I don't have anything, either."

I lay there contemplating what to do, my thought process deliberately avoiding the only way I could think of to carry water to him: by mouth. "Oh, he's just gonna LOVE that idea," I muttered sarcastically to myself.

"What? [cough]"

"I said, I don't know what to do, except…"

"You don't have ANYTHING with you that will hold water?…[cough]. Can you find a rock with a hole…I mean, a…DEPRESSION… in it? You know, something that might hold water?"

"No…it's all limestone…too porous."

"What about my hat? You could…[cough]…you could wet my hat."

"It's full of blood and dirt, and it'll contaminate the water if I rinse it out."

Silence.

"Johnny, you're probably not gonna like this idea, but…[sigh]…well, I could bring water to you in my mouth."

His lengthy silence sounded to me like a deafening roar of "NO!!!" Then I heard a big sigh…then, with a voice full of resignation, "Fuck. Well, c'mon then…[cough]."

"Okay, I'm on my way." Yeah, he was thrilled, all right. I couldn't blame him…I knew all about his privacy issues, and he was probably thinking to himself, "Great, just wait 'till the paparazzi get hold of THIS story."

I filled my mouth and headed slowly and carefully back. I was beginning to get the hang of crawling and avoiding further injury to my hands or bumping my head, but I had a difficult time keeping my mind off what was coming next. I'd dreamed of his mouth on mine for so long, but not THIS way! I finally reached him, full of dread, then tried to convince myself that I was being ridiculous. This is an injured man who needs water! Period.

Mustering up my courage, I moved up close to him. I pulled my hair back over my shoulders, then reached my right arm over his chest, supported my weight with my hand on the ground next to him, and scooted even closer, with my face over his. I was acutely aware of my breasts brushing his chest.

He looked at me with what I interpreted as a questioning look, sighed again in resignation, licked his lips, and put his hands on either side of my face to guide me. Then I slowly lowered my mouth to his, barely touching his lips, holding my breath. I closed my eyes, trying not to think about his face so close to mine, his breath warm on my face, my body touching his. I felt his mouth open wider than mine, then I felt gentle pressure from his hands, pulling my mouth even closer, and finally, he pressed his lips over mine. I was so shocked by the reality of it…Johnny Depp's lips…so unnerved, that I hastily let all the water out of my mouth into his and quickly pulled away, and he choked.

I watched in horror as he coughed and gasped and sputtered. Of all the stupid, idiotic things for me to have done! I should have SLOWLY let the water out of my mouth, because he was lying on his back. Instead, in my nervousness, I had let it all out in a gush, and it had rushed into his unsuspecting esophagus, nearly drowning him. It took several minutes before his coughing subsided. I wanted to just crawl away and die.

"I'm sorry, I'm soooo sorry," I lamented as I mentally beat myself up. I was mortified, totally mortified.

"Mary, it's okay…[cough]. I got some of it, anyway. I guess next time, you should just let it TRICKLE out, huh?"

"Yeah, I should have thought about that. I was just…"

"I wouldn't have thought of it…[cough]…I'd have done the same thing." He smiled weakly. He was trying to make me feel better, but it wasn't working.

"I'll go get some more for you." I desperately needed…WANTED…to get away from him before I burst into sobs.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's the least I can do for almost drowning you. Besides, I'm getting pretty good at moving around down here now." I forced myself to be cheerful.

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