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in her stomach as if they might never come back and would write long
letters to them while they were away. None of them ever got mailed
but they didn t have to, she told them everything she had said the next
time they came to see her, told them all about all the letters and then
they would just sit by the fire, sometimes holding each other and
sometimes just sitting but it was like she could finally relax with them
here. She told them she was okay, it was just grieving, but they knew
better. Andy was worried and scared and Andrea was angry. At least
that's how it seemed to Andrea. She had the thought that if she had
been devastated by the death of her father who she couldn t stand then
Mountain Girl's loss must be unimaginable. Finally after a particularly
morose visit she got herself suspended from school. It was a surprise to
everyone but her and Andy; it had been a long time since she had
crossed the line that she understood so well. Andy knew without her
telling him what the plan was even if it was a plan that Andrea couldn t
quite explain to herself and drove her up to the mountain where she
said she wanted to walk up by herself and to come get her when the two
week suspension was over. She made it sound like Mountain Girl was
doing her a favor to let her stay there but they both knew this was
Andrea trying to let her friend save face. Andy and Mountain Girl also
knew that this was silly, that Mountain Girl was thrilled to have her
stay there but that this was just how Andrea s mind worked.
Mountain Girl moped around the first day while Andrea was there
in spite of her happiness that Andrea would be staying with her for
almost two weeks. The second day was a breathtakingly beautiful mid
autumn day and as Andrea let her mind wander down various paths in
search of an idea to cheer her friend up an idea came to her. "Lets go
look at the cats ears tonight. We'll stay there until I can actually see
that stupid cat you say is there." Mountain Girl agreed, a hint of
excitement over visiting what had become one of her favorite places. A
place who's history, unlike most of these mountains, didn't have too
much to do with her father.
They arrived just with a couple of hours of daylight left and made
themselves some dinner. Then Andrea produced a big bottle of wine.
115
"Let's get a little drunk and you can tell me all the stories you want of
your dad" she suggested, hoping she'd had a good idea. It wasn't like
Mountain Girl ever talked that much anyway but maybe she'd have
something to say tonight.
They took their time drinking the wine. Mountain Girl didn't get
any more talkative but Andrea wondered if it mattered. It was one of
the most beautiful autumn evenings she'd ever experienced. She sat
against a rock watching the lake, breathing in the smell of the golden
color of the falling aspen leaves. The smell of a final burst of glory as
life ended with just a hint of mold. The smell of decay was almost
comforting. As the sky turned a brilliant deep bluish gray the bats
appeared. It was too cold and late in the year for mosquitoes but still
she always enjoyed the bats, thinking of all the bloodsucking insects
they devoured. She watched their erratic flight, keeping up what she
hoped was a comforting chatter in response to Mountain Girls silence,
wondering what in the world she wanted to say. Usually when she
talked in circles Mountain Girl would eventually distill the whole thing
into a few cryptic words that made sense to Andrea, but not this time.
Well maybe that was the way it was supposed to be, but Andrea felt
like she was failing at something, she wasn't sure what. By time it was
too dark to watch the bats the wine was gone, leaving only the pleasant
smell of ripened fruit in an empty bottle. She dug into her pack and
produced another bottle, this one of blackberry brandy. Perfect for a
night this time of year she thought. The moon had risen and by now it
was cold out. The frost had begun to fall and it provided a soothingly
crisp background to the scent of the fallen leaves and sharp smell of the
brandy. Maybe the sheer beauty of the evening would cheer Mountain
Girl up. Maybe having Andrea here. Maybe both together would bring
her out of this mood. She had a moment of irritation as she thought
that this would have been a wonderful, mystically beautiful night if
only Zechariah hadn't died, if only his death hadn't left Mountain Girl
so bereft of joy. A stupid thought that she felt ashamed of. She heaped
leaves over their legs and then spread a blanket over the two of them,
creating a little burrow and trying to banish her selfishness and began
drunkenly singing to herself and to Mountain Girl since talking didn't
seem to be working. Then finally with most of the brandy gone
Mountain Girl began to speak.
"Daddy hardly ever came here" she said fondly. "He showed me
this place when I was little and said it was mine. He said everyone
needed to have something that was theirs and that this could be mine. I
guess the waterfall was like that too but this is the place he told me was
mine. Remember the first time I let you come here?" Before Andrea
116
could divert her to a happy and very special memory Mountain Girl
continued. "Everything I see or do here reminds me of him. Even this
place. The place that he said was all mine is his now. He took it away
from me. Oh God, I miss him."
"I guess he's okay now. He used to feel so guilty about whatever he
did before he came here. But whatever he did was forgiven. I forgive
him for everything he ever did to anyone even if I don't know what it
was." She was crying now, tears running down her cheeks, filling her
nose, making her voice hard to understand. Andrea felt a sharp twinge
of a disturbingly familiar childhood fear. Mountain Girl went on. "I
loved him so much. I was a good daughter. I did everything I was
supposed to. Oh God how can he be dead? How can he be doing this
to me?" She began to repeat herself, saying everything again, and the
twinge of fear Andrea had felt turned into something bigger, scarier.
Much scarier. Mountain Girl was losing it and her voice was rapidly
getting harder to listen to; reminding her more than anything else of her
mother on a drunken tear. Her mother demanding something of
someone, something beyond anyone's ability to give. Or of either her
mother or her father just before they hurt someone. The warning was
all in the voice and here it was, telling her to escape as fast as possible.
But from her friend? It couldn't be. She had to be wrong about this.
She took a big slug from the blackberry brandy and then put the bottle
down on her other side, away from Mountain Girl. She'd drink the rest
surreptitiously and that would at least keep Mountain Girl from getting
any drunker. "There were so many things I never did. So many things
I wanted to tell him. But I did everything I could. I did everything I
was supposed to do. I took care of him when he wasn't feeling so good.
I loved him as much as I could. How could this happen?" By now her
voice was a broken jumble of half hysterical sobs. Andrea had the urge
to put her hands over her ears, to shut her eyes, to scream at the top of
her voice for this to stop. But somehow she sat motionless, listening.
As if a stone could listen. That's what she felt like. Mountain Girl was
repeating herself over and over. "I did everything I was supposed to. I
did everything he asked me. It's just not right. How could this happen?
Why did it have to happen?" It had become a maudlin mantra for her,
repeated endlessly like some sort of perverted meditation. Then it
changed slightly. "It's not fair. It's just not fair. What am I supposed
to do? Who am I supposed to be? It's just not fair." An expression [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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