The Mountain’s High
This is chapter 29 of The Inheritance, a serial fiction novel on FITK
Sunday Morning, July 26, 2020, Glacier, Washington
“Com’on slow-poke,” said Mary to her daughter Mareka, “We don’t want to get stuck on the mountain after dark.”
Sean and Mary were in their van, waiting for the girl to get in so they could get on their way. They were going to be driving to the trailhead of the Heliotrope Ridge Trail, then take a two-hour climb up to an alpine meadow overlooking the Coleman Glacier.
“Just a minute,” said Mareka, “I’ve got to get my hat.”
Once the ‘slow poke’ was safely in the van, the family took off up Mount Baker Highway.
“What did you see on your walk yesterday?” asked Mary.
“Trees,” said Mareka, “Lots and lots of trees. Big trees.”
“It smells so go here,” said Sean, “It would be a nice place to live, for a while, anyway.”
“Did you see anybody on your walk?” asked Mary.
“No, but I did see a dog. I said ‘hi’ but he didn’t say anything, he just looked at me. I stayed away from it—social distancing—I didn’t have a mask, even if it was a dog.”
“What kind of dog was it?” said Mary.
“It was sort of big, and gray, with pointy ears.”
“Pointy ears that stood up?” said Sean, Mareka nodded, “ I think you might have seen a coyote. It was smart to keep your distance.”
“They’re wired differently than dogs,” said Mary, “When we get back tonight we can see if I can remember my Coyote call.”
“Can you talk to coyotes?” said Mareka.
“I can try, but they don’t always listen.” Mary wondered if it would a good time to tell Mareka about her experiences with coyotes. “That is true with people, too.”
They were quiet for a while as Sean drove the twisting road, snaking its way along Falls Creek. Mareka broke the silence:
“Pops, when will Covid be over?”
“We don’t know,” said Sean, “It’s one of those things. There have been epidemics in the past, some of them were worse. A virus is a funny thing. Not really a bug, it just happens. There are a lot of things that happen in this world that we can’t explain. Like your portals.”
“But you can be careful, about the viruses… ” said Mary, “… and your powers. Just another thing you have to deal with. Other people have bigger problems. You are doing O.K., every day is something new.”
“Climbing a mountain, that’s something new,” said Mareka.
“Yes, we won’t go all the way to the top, you need special gear and training for that,” said Sean, “We’ll probably see some people on the trail who are heading for the top. They’ll have heavy boots, and big packs. It’s snowy and cold on the top. We’ll go up as far the meadow by the glacier. It will be nice there. We’ll still have to be aware of distancing on the trail today, it can get crowded,” said Sean, “So bring your mask, just in case.”
Sunday Morning, July 26, 2020, Seattle
Jo had just finished checking the internet for new activity concerning the photos and conspiracy theories that centered around Mary, Sean and herself. She was streaming KEXP in the background; the morning DJ was spinning some classic R&B.
It seemed that the peak of interest in her and Sean had been reached a few days ago but had since dwindled dramatically, a development which was fine by her. It was also a relief to know that there wouldn’t be any more disparaging ‘sermons’ coming from Reverend Stevenson. According to official sources his death was apparently natural, but Sean had told her about his suspicions that it may have been the work of Russian agents.
“According to the internet I’m supposed to be a flaming Jezebel but, in reality, I’m living the life of a cloistered nun!” she thought.
With Sean, Mary and Mareka out of town Jo was, on the upside, grateful for the chance to really unwind: she was still in her bathrobe, barefoot, and was enjoying a bowl of Cocoa-Puffs (a bad habit she never could give up.) Her evening plans were set: Jo had discovered a cache of DVDs which had been left in her place back when the previous owner had rented it out as an Air B&B. There were a lot of Criterion sets; French, Italian and Scandinavian titles seemed to predominate. There was plenty of freezer food (another bad habit) and several bottles of wine to go with it. On the downside, However, she had no one to share it with. Jo had a thought of going out; those options were limited as well. Masks in public kind of put a damper her on flirting techniques. She had, in the past, frequented the U-district bars where there were always cute (and grateful) fraternity guys that she could ‘dally’ with. They were young, vigorous and grateful, but best part was that they never called her the next day. Now, most of the frat members at U-dub had tested positive for Covid-19, and Jo herself was nominally in the middle of a two-week isolation after having been in her mother’s house the previous weekend.
The DJ's on the KEXP stream interrupted her reverie:
“How’s your Sunday morning going? Here’s a track that is a little out of the norm for this show, a real oldie, but I think it speaks to a lot of us in this frustrating time. Here’s Dick and DeeDee coming at ya… ”
The mountain's high
And the valley's so deep
Can't get across
To the other side…
Don't you give up, baby
Don't you cry
Don't you give up ’til
I reach the other side…
Jo cried.
Sunday Afternoon, July 26, 2020, Heliotrope Ridge Trail, Washington
“Are we there yet?”
“Just a little further, babe… ”
Mareka was finally tiring on the trek up to Heliotrope Ridge. Her initial enthusiasm had worn off about an hour ago.
Sean began to sign a song to Mareka, a song his mother would sing to him when he was a child and was sad:
The mountain's high
And the valley's so deep
Can't get across
To the other side…
Don't you give up, baby
Don't you cry
Don't you give up ’til
I reach the other side…
Mary, who had been hiking ahead, turned back and said, ”We made it!”
Climbing to the top of the ridge, Mareka looked down where could see a river of ice with a meadow of flowers next to it. The icy and fearsome summit of Mount Baker loomed above her.
“Oh, oh, oh… ” she said.
Next Chapter: Hot Tub Time Machine
