Character Study No. 1 - The Man and the Mountain

Character Studies are short stories, part of a larger novel series I’m writing.  Each one is a postcard-sized piece of world-building.  A person caught in a quiet, strange, or aching moment.

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The Man and The Mountain

“You’re like my marriage old friend, I hardly recognize you anymore,” said a tall man wearing a summer hat.   

He gave a big stretch, arms out, and then brought a hand over to the brim of his hat, nodding to the mountain peak across the valley. 

He stood in a wildflower speckled meadow that dropped off abruptly in front of him, as if it was a stage. 

The glacier on the face of the mountain was looking incredibly low.  It was hard to tell if there was any ice left under the gray dirt and rock.  It didn’t used to have a visible end, so it all looked a bit odd.  There was still a bit of ice mounded up at the peak, like a scarf wrapping around the face of the mountain. 

“I’ve come to play a bit of a game with you if you don’t mind.”  The man continued.  

He took off his pack and untied the small table that he’d rigged up to it.  Unfolding it, he placed it onto the grass at his feet, covering some up small golden wildflowers.  He paused as it wobbled and then looked around for a flatter spot, picking one near a low boulder, and setting the table down again.  

He didn’t realize how hot he felt until now.  The air was cool, but the trek up this pass was steep.  He’d made the journey so many times he didn’t stop to rest along the way today.  His body was getting older, it ached and bending over felt like pulling unkneaded dough.

He laid a brown patterned cloth over the table and sat down opposite the mountain peak.  The breeze smelled thick with musk yarrow, or like the memory of it.  

“I think it is only right that you have the first pick,” he said to the mountain as he poured out a bag of dominos onto the edge of the table. 

The man waited, staring at the mountain face. After some time, a cloud moved over the landscape and over the cliffs at the top of the valley.  

“You’ve chosen black I see,” the man said.

Taking his index finger and thumb, he flipped several dominos over until he found a black colored piece. One and five dots. He then set the piece upright in the center of the table.  

“My turn,” he exclaimed, “I will follow your lead and choose black as well.”  He placed the second domino upright again next to the other one, starting a line.

Another cloud passed across the landscape as the man started to ask the mountain again on its turn.  “You’re eager for this game to end,” he said and then picked up another black piece.

Several more rounds progressed in the game and each time a cloud passed over the rocky face of the mountain.  The dominos were now forming an arch, the start of a circle.  

“You’re getting obnoxiously boring with these choices my friend,” the man laughed.  This round there was no cloud in sight and the man waited looking up at the mountain. 

The wind was picking up.  The sweat on his back began to chill him, but he wasn’t concerned.  Song birds were chirping their melodies as he waited.  The grass rustled as it swayed.  It truly was a beautiful day. 

Lifting up his hat, he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and itched his scalp.  He was about to speak up again when finally he noticed a small fire being lit inside one of the shadows along the glacier’s edge.  He waited a few seconds and another fire was lit, and then another.  A path of torches was forming. 

“Red is a good choice,” he mentioned, “I was wondering if you’d finally decide that.”  

He grabbed a red domino and set it up next in his line.  A few more plays and the circle would be complete. 

He picked up another domino, this time not looking at the color and simply placing it into the line of the ring.  He followed with another and then another until the circle was complete and there were no more dominos left.  He paused and looked at what he’d made.

“I forgot to mention why it took me so long to come up here again,” he said. The wind seemed to stop now.  “I was really in an awful state these past several years.  You’d have thought you’d never met me before, I think.”

Much of the valley was now in dimmed light.  The arch of the torches could be seen across the landscape, twinkling as the trees moved and as the shadows danced.  A dull hum was picking up from the insects in the field.  The air was still cold, but there was heat coming off of the rocks. 

“I woke up one day and had realized how mean I’d become.  Like, not the type of grumpy you’d seen from me before.  This anger was deep and full.”

The man in the summer hat tapped his finger across the tops of the dominos in the circle. 

“I woke up one day and I decided I wasn’t going to carry this anymore.”

He grabbed one of the dominos gently with his fingers, plucking it out of the circle and holding it up to the mountain across from him. 

“What a lovely day we’ve had. I think it couldn’t have been better.”  

He placed the domino back into the bag and smiled.  Going back to the circle, he plucked more dominos, leaving just every other one standing.  He held each one up to the mountain, then pocketed it in the bag.  When he was done he put the bag of dominos back into his pack and grabbed his water bottle. 

He coughed mid-drink. Water ran down his beard and neck. He laughed loudly, wiping his face.

“I was too parched, I guess.”  He stood up and put his pack back on, facing his friend. 

He stared ahead, arms down at his side, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his pack.  The sun was retreating below the peaks to the west now.  An orange glow outlined the mountain in front of him, and lit the glacier with a soft light. It looked so small. 

He began walking away from the table with half the dominos still on it.

“I hope the best for you as well,” the man said, turning back to the mountain with a smile.