Chapter 6

Jeni

I sat down on the ragged brown and back plaid couch, a big fake smile on my face and an amped up attitude in play, and handed the bag of candy to my grandpa.

“Here you go, Gramps. Now don’t eat it all tonight and go into diabetic shock,” I teased and yet was sort of serious, I think he’d been off sugar for a while. “This also means you have to be nice to me,” I cautioned him as I gently lay the candy in his lap.

He was looking much older than I remembered him being just last month. He seemed frailer and his paper-thin skin had a purplish hue.

“I don’t need to be nice for chocolate,” was the caustic answer he gave as he ripped into the Reeses’ packaging, unwrapped the chocolate and peanut butter disk, discarded the paper onto the floor, and shoved the entire candy into his mouth.

What a child, he’d become.

I looked over to Lydia to see if her expression registered the horror I was feeling, but she remained her peaceful, centered self. She didn’t even warn him about choking or eating too fast. Maybe she was throwing in the towel and hoping the old codger would die, so I stepped in, not thinking my cautionary words would do any good at all. “Gramps you might want to slow down there, I don’t want you to choke… and um, some slimy stuff is drooling on your chin” I warned kindly, grabbing a tissue from the box on the table to wipe his mouth, which was pretty disgusting.

“I’ve been eating my whole life, you fucking think a piece a candy’s gonna do me in now?” he was actually growling as he slurred with his mouth and teeth slathered in peanut butter ooze.

I could see why Lydia stayed quiet, what was the point, Gramps was gonna die on his terms and if that meant he died dry heaving on a chocolate peanut butter patty, so be it, there was no stopping the guy.

Lydia had mentioned he wasn’t doing well and I could see he was slowing down. He didn’t rip into the second candy with as much fervor as the first as I watched his frail, crippled, fingers fumbling with the paper. I made an attempt to get up and help him, but Lydia’s arm gently jettisoned out to stop me. She flashed a big smile and made me sit down and watch patiently.

She was right, he had to do things for himself. It seemed his independence was all that was keeping him alive, at least it didn’t look like much else was. I started to worry about him like I’d never worried before. He was in his late eighties and having been such a formidable character most of his life I assumed eighty-plus years was as good as he was going to get.

I enjoyed doing nice things for him because I knew that under his rough exterior was a kind person trying to hide the vulnerable parts of himself. He’d become one thousand times more horrible when my mom died. She was their only child and when his wife died, he sort of just gave up on everything. I had empathy for him because I understood how he felt.

My way of fighting off the sadness was trying to save the world and climbing mountains, daring life to take me out; he sat in his chair and complained to the one person who could stand to be around him. He was perpetually thumbing his middle finger at the world.

“I’ve got a nice soup made for us,” Lydia said as she got up out of her chair and walked toward the kitchen, “They had beautiful vegetables at the market this morning, nice and fresh. I got a chicken from Ted on my way back up the mountain. He was processing his last batch and gave me a beauty for a song, even feathered and gutted it for me; nice guy, that Ted.”

I never really thought about where the chicken came from, but right on, Ted. If I had to watch Lydia de-feather and gut a chicken before my eyes, I’d probably end up becoming a vegetarian.

“I figured I’d put some of the chicken in a stew and save the rest to fry tomorrow. How does that sound?” Bless her, you could tell she didn’t ever have company over, she was too excited about stew.

“Sounds delicious, Lydia.” I flashed her a big genuine smile.

I loved her.

I looked over to Gramps and he seemed to be fading; maybe it was just a sugar coma, who knew, so much seemed to have changed since I was last up here. I decided to liven the mood by getting the DVDs I’d rented from Redbox.

Everything in the cabin was so old-school I actually had to buy a DVD player and upgrade them from VHS. They barely had a wifi connection, so introducing streaming would’ve been way beyond their technological prowess. For the rest of the night, we ate Lydia’s stew, watched cheesy family DVDs while Gramps fell asleep on the La-Z-Boy and I cuddled into the afghan Lydia knitted last winter.

At around 9 o’clock, everyone called it a night and went to their respective rooms. Lydia transferred my Gramps to his wheelchair. I offered to help because it seemed like a hard thing for a woman of her age to do, however, Lydia was a very sturdy and rotund woman. She maneuvered him with very little effort.

I said goodnight to them and went to my room. The little room was cozy but cramped. I looked outside, and the winds were blowing hard as snow fell thick in impenetrable sheets. Maybe I wouldn’t hike in the morning. Everything outside looked scary and foreboding, so I closed the curtains, happy to be out of the elements and oddly comforted by musty relics of a bygone era.

I grabbed my iPad to read a Kindle book, turned on the old-fashioned hurricane lamp and cuddled into bed feeling warm and safe. I sent out a little prayer, however, asking that the storm let up, so I could get some hiking in the next day. I really wanted to be up on my mountain; I needed a dose of fresh air.

I fell asleep earlier than usual and woke up around eight to the smell of strong coffee and something buttery with a hint of cinnamon. Boy, did I love that Lydia liked to cook. I got dressed and bounded into the kitchen to find Gramps and Lydia seated at the dining table.

“Thought you were dead,” Gramps offered.

“She had a long drive last night, now leave the child alone,” Lydia scolded.

He was right, old people and kids liked to be up early, I did not. I expected to wake up to snowmageddon, but everything outside looked sunny and peaceful.

“What happened to the Big Storm?” I asked gesturing wildly with my hands in the air, trying to liven the mood.

“Didn’t turn out to be that big after all,” Lydia said in a jovial tone of voice

“The weatherman is a fucking liar,” Gramps added.

“Well, since the weather is better, you guys okay with me taking a scramble up the hill after breakfast? I promise I’ll be back before dinner.” I felt like I needed to ask permission, even though I wasn’t a kid anymore a little respect went a long way.

I couldn’t wait to tackle the mountain.

“I checked the weather and another front is supposed to be heading in tonight, dear,” Lydia looked at me almost pleading.

I always hiked the mountain on my weekend visits, so she knew not to forbid me to go, but a little cautioning never hurt anyone.

“I promise, I’ll be safe,” I flashed her a big toothy grin.

“You’re gonna die out there,” was Gramps subtle comment.

I just kissed him on the head and grabbed my bag, “I’ll be back before you know it,” was all I said as I put on my coat and boots and headed out the front door.

I parked my car at the base of the mountain and started my climb. The route was easy at the base, so I scrambled up pretty quickly. I was feeling confident and happy to be out in the cold fresh air. I was halfway up the mountain an hour later. At that point, I was sort of wishing I had a climbing buddy. The snow was loosely packed, and I slipped on a few of the rocks. I was also more tired than I usually was. I found myself using a lot more muscle strength on the snow and ice than I usually had to exert. I wasn’t worried but wished I had someone to laugh with about nearly falling on my ass a few times. I was happy when I finally made it to the top of the mountain; it was definitely worth the effort.

It felt like I could see most of the world from my little perch. I loved being there at the top. Nothing seemed as big or as important when I was looking down on the valley below me. The mountain put everything into perspective. I felt like up here, at the top of the world, I was in complete control of my destiny.

I stayed up on the top of the mountain longer than I should have. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had to get back down before the second storm hit and I didn’t want to hike in the dark, but I just couldn’t pry myself away from the magnificent view.

I was also in the throes of deep introspection. I realized while I was sitting up there alone, that I wanted a man in my life. I’d been alone for too long. I’d dated a few guys and one guy, Marshall, was pretty long term at one point, but even he didn’t last. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t found Mr. Right, but I wasn’t willing to settle for Mr. Maybe or Mr. Meh. Being alone was better than being with either of those two fellas. However, having no one kind of sucked.

As I emerged out of my hazy “I’m so lonely” reverie, I could see storm clouds gathering in the distance. They were pitch black and had streaks of lighting shooting through them. Shit! I was in trouble, I had to get down the mountain and FAST!

A sinister force was heading my way, so I gathered my things and started my descent. At first, I was very careful as the loose snow tumbled down into the deep abyss beside my hiking boot each time I stepped on a foothold. My heart accelerated, and my breathing became erratic. I was losing my shit and I never did that. I had to gather my wits about me and remind myself nothing scared me, not even a messy storm on a snowy mountain. I was able to talk myself calm and kept a steady pace down the mountain. I even relaxed a little thinking I’d be down in no time. I was looking forward to torquing up the heat in my car and eating a nice meal with the folks and that’s when it happened.

At first, it felt like nothing… literally nothing. I put my foot down and within an instant, it was off the rock and my whole body was weightless. I was falling fast. Shit, shit, shit, repeated over and over in my mind. And then everything hurt. It was the kind of hurt that robbed you of breath. There were simply no words to describe the kind of pain I felt. It was a flailing, desperate, stabbing sensation which attacked every nerve, most viciously at my left ankle and my right temple.

When the pain had dulled fractionally, I looked around to see where I’d landed and gave God a little shout out. While I was really hurting, at least I wasn’t dead. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to walk out of that hole, so I wasn’t exactly sure about the dead part. I shuddered to think what would happen if I couldn’t get out of the hole. Death could be on the horizon, slow and agonizing…

I first tried calling Lydia and Gramps from my cell phone, but I was too deep in the crevasse to get reception. Luckily, I also carried a walkie-talkie with a radio frequency. I dialed into a strong signal and called out for help, over and over again until my voice went hoarse and fear began to settle in. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of the situation alive.

I worried about Lydia and Gramps, they’d be scared sick if they didn’t hear from me. I tried to stay sane and attempted to wiggle my way out of the wedge, but everything hurt so badly I couldn’t manage to get out, so I continued with the radio, hoping someone would finally hear me as the sun began to set.