Ben Thomas
Preface:
I recently gave a hard copy of this story to a granddaughter, her first question as she took it was "what's this about?" Which made me quickly ponder her question, after a moment I told her it was about life, mostly mine but I thought many others as well. She found my answer questionable. It also led me to add these notes, she had a good question that has many answers.
Life's a journey and the paths we choose may not be the ones that are taken, thankfully life is full of crossroads when you are willing to take a chance.
We carry our distinct family's histories and future, each in our own way living with the choices and paths taken by our ancestors, our descendants living with ours.
Regardless of that, the roads we are on are ridden with the perils and the serendipitous joys of life, of love lost and love found...
We all have stories to tell, whether they are borne of joy or grief, written down, told or not, they are always there under the surface. Some find their way out much like the many detours we encounter and travel down at the most unexpected times, as did this story for me.
The beginning of this story is true, inspired by a solitary midnight walk in the snow and ice with my dog “Jack” and thoughts of my late wife beside me, when unexpected memories suddenly surfaced of my grandfather. I owe many thanks to him for the inspiration to write it down. To her, the courage that brought it to life…
Copyright
2016 (working edit version April 2023)
Moonlight glistened
off the silent sheen of ice, promising redemption at each step as his foot
broke through the crystal layers, crackling, bearing the weight only briefly
before collapsing with a crunch, echoing in the silence giving way to his
presence. Leaving the oddly shaped
meandering tracks of the makeshift snowshoes to testify as the only witness of
his being there.
Prologue
Otis, wearing his
customary worn out work trousers, blue denim shirt with the ever present neck
tie, sitting in his well-aged easy chair
down in the renovated chicken coop that he called his dog house, used in order
to briefly escape the challenges of marriage, lit his Chesterfield, seeming to
ponder, while taking a long draw before speaking, then on the exhale said to me
as a boy sitting next to him on the wood pile feeding the woodstove…”If you
write it down you will not remember” while casually picking off the stray
strands of tobacco from his lip then flicking them onto the hot stove where they
sizzled then disappeared with a puff while two streams of smoke curled out of
his nostrils. A man of few words
speaking six languages who died chopping wood to warm his hearth.
My father’s father,
an immigrant I hardly knew, who came to America as a young boy on his own, escaping the wrath of World War 1 as a refugee that ravaged his homeland, earning his passage by filling, then passing the ladle from the water bucket he carried to the sweating crews to quench their
thirst as they fed coal into the boiler as they steamed across the Atlantic to a land of promise where dreams
could come true, while they themselves never seeing the light of day inside the
burning bowels of the ancient freighter as it made the perilous journey. It wasn't until the ship was still, the relentless rocking at rest, safely secured at the dock that he finally stood at the rail gazing out and seeing the welcoming lady of the harbor.
Passing through Ellis Island alone, then taking those first steps onto the mainland and into the unknown amongst the throngs of immigrants to begin his new life.
A grandfather with
many stories to tell me when I was older.
But he ran out of time to tell.
“Someday” he says “I’ll tell you the story about the white horse and the
glass mountain.”
But Grandpa, who was
riding the horse? Forever drawn into the mystery of him as he motioned me to
attend to the fire as told. He had
never written it down or told me and so the story died with him.
Perhaps he wanted me
to find out on my own, to reflect, ponder, speculate or guess. I’ll never know, maybe that was what he was
telling me…to make it my own story. So
as is my nature I’ve ignored his advice as I step onto the elders’ path and into its mysteries.
Chapter 1
There is silence
everywhere after so many years of Ice, it permeates the forest like a thick frozen fog, only to be
fractured by the sound of solitary footsteps breaking through the layers of ice
in a rhythmic song of search. Gazing up
through the canopy of ancient trees into the crystalline sky, catching
glimpses of a guiding star and fleeting dream of love, warm hearth and home.
Returning for the
first time to a new home is a puzzling thing, even if it is all in your imagining mind.
The only guide to the journey are the things in your heart, your soul,
your imagination or dreams. It is not
like before, or how you imagined it to be, but like the sensory implications of DeJa'Vu it is. It plays at your
heart like a lost love, its’ strings so far out of tune as your chest tightens
seeking the fleeting harmony that you thought was yours.
Feeling his heart
beating out the rhythm to the steps in the unforgiving ice as it thuds against
his chest, the lungs breath hovering behind before crystalizing into a frozen
mist and spiraling away in the silent stillness like a lost strand of DNA.
His mind wanders
while passing remnants of some forgotten path, following the faint whispers of
the ghosts in his head, the muffled drone of some distant siren from another
time that may have led you here if you could only turn back the clock, somehow,
somewhere close to the beginning, when he may not have known better than to
have stepped into the unknown, but never the less drawn like a moth to the
flame.
Remembering but
somehow caught peripherally on a gossamer’s edge...a memory of her emerging in a fevered sleepless dream, thinking I see her as she fades into the distance, chasing dreams of her own. The world dims and disappears into the twilight of the ethers before I think to call out, still lost in the shredded threads of your thoughts as time relentlessly
blurs everything in the vacuum of its silent wake.
Slowly over the years
making his way along this frozen, endless meandering path and yet no sign of
what was lost. The frayed brittle
strands of hope still holding fast, stretched thin and endlessly chafing
against a threadbare soul.
The soft fluid edge of
the thaw after so many years of ice kept him going. Now, sounds of trickling water permeated the
atmosphere where once was only silence.
Perhaps there is redemption after all and it was all worth it even
though he may return empty handed, seemingly more concerned and wondering what
all the elders of before would have to say as he made up sounds and images in
his head of what it would be like returning if anyone would even remember or
recognize him. Then realizing there is
now no way back, only forward, the past was beyond him, forever out of reach and the search of
what lay ahead was the only possibility.
He had been down this road before but now he was starting to believe
it. Focusing, he spotted dog
off in the distance sitting and watching him, patiently waiting for him to catch up like
so many times before. He could now hear Dog giving him small woofs, signal's guiding him back in from where he had reached another dead end.
He found it so easy
and yet alarming when his mind wandered, picking his way through the maze of
memories, thinking it must be his imagination playing tricks again. Yet, there was no way for him to be certain. He often forgot the direction or where and to
what purpose they were headed and left it up to dog to pick the path and lead
the way.
Dog
was somewhere up ahead scouting, as was his way, picking the trail, hunting for
their days’ meal. He learned long ago to
trust dogs’ instincts of such things.
Neither knowing their internal compasses were somehow drawing them both
closer every sunrise to a place they knew of only in their hearts and dreams.
Dog was no longer a
puppy, but then no longer was he. As
with most things good, he stumbled upon dog almost by accident, before, back when
he didn’t know he was lost and wandered without purpose or direction.
Back then in the fog
of the forest dog had watched him approach with his teeth showing and tail
wagging, still a pup barely weened as he gingerly took the food offered,
careful not to sink his teeth into the hand of the giver.
He never questioned
how the pup got there, dog was there waiting for him to meet. He had many questions then, all unanswered,
so he stopped asking, dog was just one more mystery that was accepted or not, he
had learned firsthand long ago about the errors made of being so impatient.
That was countless times ago, times of ice and cold never ending.
Along the path the questions returned, simple at first, a few answers
came to him as they melded into how they were now, each with their own separate
terms, unspoken, not negotiated or thought through, yet it bound them together
as in a time before he thought he had forgotten with only a wisp of the before
to drive him on. It seemed dog just knew
without thinking. They simply were, nothing more was expected from either.
It was the terms of their co-existence that focused them both at that moment of meeting as the pup sniffed about his legs then put his nose to the frozen ground and trotted off. No longer alone but as two, their journey together began...
Chapter 2
Time had blurred into a haze of endless days and what little stores he could carry in his pack were dwindling
fast, even dogs saddle bags were now hanging empty. The dense forest that was somehow spared and
all the game it had given them had at last come to an end days before, leaving them exposed to the open unknown and ahead
there appeared a vast endless wasteland.
They both knew there was no turning back this time as they began to slowly pick their way into the void.
The blocks of ice
towering over them had started to move on, shaking the ground beneath their feet, rumbling like some ancient hungry
beast with the singular purpose of leaving a barren wasteland of crushed rock
and shale over the glacial plain devoid of any life and game which to prey upon
in its wake. There was an emptiness
about this place, that resonated inside his own hungry hollowness, reminding
him once again that their journey was still somewhere in between with no end in
sight.
Making their way over this maze of ever
roughening terrain slowing their progress seemingly at every step. Something in the air besides the high-flying
birds circling overhead just out of range put them both on guard. He could feel it, something about the
harmonics of this place, they were both slightly out of sync here, enough to
lose your balance over the rock and shale, but more so in their perceptions, or
were they illusions?, both of them unknowingly always trying to keep up with the rhythmic beat of their
hearts pumping away their time.
What bearings he
managed to keep were swirling in and out of any surety. Dog was getting anxious as well with constant
glances back at him looking for reassurance, his nose failing to come up with
any answers. Rather than out front as
was his custom, dog circled in ever widening paths then spiraled back in again,
nuzzling and staying close to his side before circling back out again in an
endless loop. Watching dog worried him
even more since he too felt they were always circling since they entered this
place, mimicking the arc of the stars overhead, until finally he started to
stack the rocks to mark their trail making sure not to repeat themselves.
Water was plentiful,
sucking or licking the ice that remained.
They would soon need more than to just quench their thirst.
Chapter 3
Exhaustion finally
taking its toll, they both sat surveying the unknown before them, resting as
they watched their world move on, sharing the saved bits of a former meal,
feeling the warmth of their small fire, the flames flickering as he fed it the
last of the forests’ wood he had carried for this moment, it somehow stirred a
distant memory of throwing wood into an old man’s stove, for a moment he
thought he heard his voice, but then it was gone, lost again in the ethers.
His thoughts were
somehow comforting yet unsettling, not quite knowing where they came from as he
watched dog circling endlessly around him at arm’s length now, rather than the
longer loops of the day before finally coming to rest at his side, escaping
momentarily into deep slumber.
The long day faded
into the depths of constant twilight. He, deep inside thought, somewhere in the background hearing dog’s faint muffled
barking in his sleep hunting down his prey, while memories played at the edge
of sleep in his mind, teasing at a story he heard when young, an elder lit up
by the flames of a communal fire, whispering of a place that circles all of life, a mountain of glass,
a white horse and of the lights in the sky that never dip beyond the horizon,
circling endlessly, relentless as they etch their way against the dark vortex
above. Dog awakes from his hunt and
licks his face in reassurance as he falls off into a fitful sleep. It’s always here and now that he begins to
hear the voices, muffled then clear, visions coming into focus, faint at first,
obscured somewhere in his core then rising from some distant past memory,
returning to him in clarity, closing his eyes he sees.
“It is as it is
always” the old man says, “few have left from the many, yet still no one has
returned since long before the oldest elder passed by”
The old storyteller nods, stretches his legs out and plays with the embers in the
fire with his cane as he finishes the tale, stirring the coals up into a hot glow on their
faces intent on sealing the tale in their minds.
Almost as an afterthought, though not part of the tale the elder adds in
a whisper few would hear, “soon though, maybe soon”, sensing a kindred spirit
in the small group.
The old man stands leaning on the cane and tosses more wood on the fire bringing it back to life as he steals a glance at the young ones, hoping they remember, wondering who it could be while his own memories of the long journey here came back full circle, teasing him of his lost youth and the stories he had yet to tell.
Dreaming, he could feel the fires heat still, watching the stirred up glowing embers fly into the night as the old man tossed more wood into the flames, like those small things that took flight, glowing in the night on their erratic journeys before being snuffed out by their own trailing presence…snuggling ever deeper between his parents heavy robes into safety and slumber he sensed something probing somewhere in his consciousness, catching glimpses of unknown things in his soul.
He awoke to the chilling
stillness of heavy frost and the warmth of dog nestled up beside him, always upwind, dog
opened an eye evaluating him as always, sensing with alarm the beginning of the man’s
awakening cognition he sprang to all fours, his back hair standing upright on high alert with the low octave of
a growl knowing he was the second to awake for the first time since they had
begun, his nose working quickly sniffing for the scent of unseen threats.
They both sensed it
at once, he not quite lucid from sleep, finally giving in to it, the dream holding him and dog long
enough on a primal level as it entered his consciousness once again, this time
to his core. It’s thrumming seizing and
caressing them both with the promise of hope, answers and redemption.
Chapter 4
Blinking, returning
briefly again to the present he opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep away, each time slowly focusing he
could see things were somehow different, glimmering and changing before them as
the bright orb rose up over the tumbled distance bringing everything into
sharper focus as the shadows dispersed into the light of the new morning. They
both scanned the horizon out of habit looking for dangers and opportunities but
now with mounting curiosity and wonder while getting ready to begin again.
Subtle at first,
their edge of wariness wearing off as they worked their way through the
landscape. Finding their equilibrium as
if some internal gyroscopic power were spooling up, enhancing their balance with every
step. Seeing the beginnings of plant
life all around them growing among the rocks.
There were blue colored berries that quieted their empty bellies among
the small patches of lichen that gave color to the otherwise barren landscape. Small reptilian creatures warming on the
rocks scuttled out of their way as they passed, dog assessing, then dismissing
them as a potential meal. Something was
happening here, something different than the countless dead ends they had
turned around on, backtracking in hopes of finding their way through the maze.
Gazing up above them,
the birds were still circling but now they could hear the faint sounds of their
song. Not alarming like that of the
raptors they had seen elsewhere deep in the forest canopy, but soothing and melodic in their concentric
flight.
Returning their gaze to beneath the horizon, time seemingly had slowed down, he wasn’t sure how long they had been standing here on this path or when they had found it as he stood contentedly scratching dog behind the ears like so many times before, as if it were yesterday, both leaning into each other offering time a counterbalance to the tolls taken.
In those moments of quiet he turns, noticing the shimmering horizon moving towards them, puzzled he watched as the horizon moved in, closing in on them. Sensing no threat, watching curiously as they stood their ground. The unconcerned high flying birds had landed nearby, busy building nests still singing their songs as another small flock landed nearby doing the same.
More small creatures of all shapes and sizes were appearing on the leading edge of light, foraging among the rocks that were fast disappearing as the foliage of plants began to cover the landscape. Dog watched seemingly not interested in them as a potential meal, instead stood by wagging his tail, a stick in his mouth, employing muffled barks waiting for him to toss it, just as he did as a puppy.
Up ahead in the distant flickering light he could see something outlined against the horizon moving smoothly and with purpose towards them, stopping occasionally, lowering its head to feed on the newly sprouted greens. It was white against the vibrant waves of shimmering light that they now could see was taking the form of a large translucent mountain.
In slow motion the image had cantered up to them putting its wet nose up against his chest, snorted and glanced down to see that dog had dropped his stick and began grooming its legs, as it nuzzled his pockets looking for those saved hidden treats. He had never seen such an animal before let alone a pure white one as he reached out to scratch behind its ears with one hand while the other combed through its' mane in amazement.
His mind racing with the possibilities that perhaps the story was true after all, maybe there were answers. He had forgotten the questions so many times before, only remembering when he heard the voices in his head, seeing clearly when he closed his eyes, after giving up any hope so long ago and wandering for so many miles that perhaps this was just his imagination playing tricks on him again. Glancing down at dog, trusting his instincts, reassured him that if dog was good with this, then so was he.
He could hear those familiar voices distinctly now inside his head amongst the cacophony of sounds, of new life emerging from the ruins as if hearing them for the first time yet again and now seeing them as his sense of wandering melted in the aura of shimmering light then quickly disappeared.
On sudden impulse and without hesitation or thought he swung up upon the animals back in one smooth fluid motion, knowing he had been here before, held its mane as reins in his hands, suddenly remembering clearly a lost question he had of an old man with a story to tell sitting next to a wood stove somewhere back near the beginning and now just as suddenly having the answer.
Horse swung his head around giving him a piercing glance, assessing him, then accepting the load, recognizing his rider, stomping a hoof checking their balance while circling dog in eager readiness as they all turned in unison and took those first steps on their path towards the glass mountain still rising up before them.... not just two, but now as three, their journeys' beginning anew.
to be continued....
