One Dark Day (822 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Badlands (View user info) at 2004-10-06 10:43:15 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
I stood on the semi-frozen mud at the base of Mount Sendensia on the darkest day of my existence with one simple purpose. To lose myself. Or to find my place. I wasn't really sure which. But I knew something had to happen.
My marriage was crumbing around me. My three kids, whom I love more than life itself, didn't know who I was anymore. And I had a sinking feeling that the very essence of my sanity was slipping away. Something had to give.
I strapped my boots on tight, tested the slack on my rope, and made certain my claws fit snugly around my palms. The wind began to howl as I looked up the sheer face of the majestic mountain. Everything else may have been all wrong in my life, but climbing...climbing would always be my escape. Up here I was perfect. Up here I was crystal clear. Up here I was...safe. If you can believe that.
Now, I'll ask you to bear with me. Because what happened next amazes even me—and I lived it.
What can I say? Sometimes extraordinary things happen to ordinary people. Sometimes lady luck will kiss a fool, though she knows he's unworthy. Sometimes a pitiful man will discover solace in the arms of a benevolent God. And sometimes...even at our worst, we all find just a little shelter.
My gear all packed and my tools secure, I trudged down the trail at the base of the mountain to find a suitable spot to begin my ascent. I breathed in the cold morning air, and glanced up at the icy black sky. I was taking the first step down an unfamiliar path—a path that would lead me to salvation or damnation.
I found a good starting point that looked to have a lot of crags up the trunk and dug my spikes in. I hooked in my rope and just as I was securing my knots, a small, impish little man appeared before me.
Strange.
He wasn't there a minute ago. The mountain was dark and deserted, but wouldn't I least have heard his footsteps crunching on the icy ground? Were my problems weighing so heavily that I was completely oblivious? It's possible.
"The name's Micah. Micah McClaren."
The little man strode up to me with a wide, toothy grin and a pack on his back that must have weighed at least 50 pounds more than he did. Tiny as he was, he shook my hand with a punishing vice-like grip. Not exactly a small man myself, my knees buckled and I gave a little wince as he pumped my elbow back and forth.
"Headin' for a climb, are ye? Mind if I join?"
I stood there, gaping at the tiny little man with the scraggly beard and funny accent. I was torn. I really didn't want to climb with anyone today. I didn't think I should climb with anyone.
Things had been going so badly. I despised my job. My marriage had lost its passion. I felt disconnected from my children. And at age 45, I had this horrible sense that I had accomplished nothing of consequence in my life. I came out here today knowing that something had to change. I was going to find myself. Or completely lose myself.
But now...looking into the creases of the old man's face, I knew we had to climb together. It was out of my hands. It was like something that had already happened, and all I had to do was patiently wait for the present to catch up.
I nodded slowly, unable to resist his probing gaze and penetrating smile. I tried to look annoyed.
"James. James Trotter." I stiffened. "If you know what you're doing...and if you can keep up old-timer, you're welcome to it."
I turned back to the mountain.
I've been climbing for years. It's like a breath of life to me. In fact, what really attracts me to mountaineering is that it's very simple: you either live or you die. No time outs, no substitutions, no two-minute warning. It's pure and it's simple. Like nothing else in my life these days.
And the mountain doesn't care what kind of car you drive, what kind of watch you wear, which college you went to, or how much money you make. It's a very "in-the-moment" experience. And it's one of only two things in this world where I have discovered that on a consistent basis, doing it is far more exciting than the anticipation of doing it.
Sex might be the other. Although lately, I sure as hell wouldn't know.
Micah and I began our ascent up the sheer north face of Mount Sendensia without much chatter. We were able to tie one another off and shimmy up the first leg of the façade without difficulty. The old man, small as he was, clearly knew what he was doing.
"So tell me 'bout yer wife 'n brood, man. I mean...you've surely got one, eh?"
I stopped and turned back with a sneer. Already, I didn't think a whole lot of my new partner.
"Not much to tell, Mr. McClaren. Not much to tell." Trying to act annoyed. I turned back to the wall and kept climbing. A little faster now.
The truth is, there's plenty to tell. I've got the most amazing family that any man could ask for.
There aren't enough adjectives in Webster's Dictionary to describe my wife Molly. She's stunning, brilliant, caring, successful, giving, warm and patient. And I've never loved anyone but her. She's currently the Chair of the English Department at Okeford State University, where she has been a professor for 15 years. And until recently, she's always been able to reach me right where I live. But these days...I've been unreachable. Despondent, she says. And it's killing her.
Our three kids have always been my life. Like the air that I breathe, I need them near me. They are each sensitive, caring, beautiful, and brilliant. They take after Molly.
Paige, born the year after we got married, is a vibrant, driven 21-year old. I just can't seem to get over the fact that she's a real woman now. It just doesn't fit with the indelible image of the first time I held her, seconds after her birth. Then again, neither did her first date, or her senior prom, or her first day of college. In her fourth year of Pre-Law at Yale, she has aspirations to be a Litigator. If that's what she wants, Johnny Cochran better watch his back.
Jackson, a junior in high school, has always been my "bestest" pal - though we've been testing that relationship lately. The kid's energetic, outgoing, and always full of surprises. Just like his mother. And like her, he's always made me proud.
Last, but definitely not least, is our little jellybean, Maddy. The most precocious, inquisitive little darling you'll ever want to meet. Her nickname is HA, or 'Happy Accident'. And in spite of the fact that she did arrive rather unexpectedly four years ago—admittedly to my chagrin—she's the best thing that's ever happened to us.
The bottom line is that we've always been a pretty tight family. And we're all pretty much crazy about one another, with the very possible exception lately of Molly toward me. What's caused her to lose affection for me? I can't say for sure. She refuses to talk about it anymore.
If I don't get it by now I never will, she says.
What I do understand is that I've been in a funk, and she's clearly tired of it. As she once put it, "I already have three kids, I don't want to be married to one." The fact is, she's still the same solid, strong woman I married and over the past year, I've become nothing more than an albatross hanging round her neck. It seems that all I do is bring her down.
At any rate, what's been going on with us surely isn't likely to heal itself anytime soon. I've seen Molly shaking her head at me with a look of pure disgust one too many times, not to know the truth. And I've had this paralyzing fear that I am inevitably going to screw up once too often and simply lose my place in her life.
Maybe I already have. Maybe it was already over.
------
Micah and I had been swiftly climbing for a couple hours now. I had to say I was impressed. The old man had to be at least fifteen years my senior, and he was tying off, finding openings, and making vertical leaps about as fast as anyone I had ever worked a wall with.
I was losing some wind as we reached the second tier, and decided that now was as good a time as any for a breather. My new friend Mr. McClaren, on the other hand, looked as if he could go on all day.
I dug my pick into an icy crag and sat down with my legs dangling over the shadowy edge. We had to be a good thousand feet up now and the air was starting to get noticeably thin. Micah sat down next to me and took a pull from his canteen.
"So, Mr. Trooter...quiet on the hill...not much to say of the family...out here on such a dark, ominous day. The look on yer face tells it all, boy-o. Yer searchin' for a reason."
I rubbed my temples and let out a deep sigh, thinking 'the name's Trotter you little imp'.
"Listen Mr. McClaren..."
"Micah."
Another sigh. "Right...Micah. Look, I'm up here today to get a climb in. To get up to the top of this mountain. Nothing more. So please don't take offense to this, but I'm really not interested in talking to you about my life, my family, my astrological sign, my turn-ons, my pet peeves, or anything else that you might be able to think of."
The old man just stared quizzically at me. Head cocked to one side like a puppy dog being given a command he didn't understand...the smile never fading from his weathered old face. It annoyed me to no end.
"Look" I reasoned. "Really, I don't mean to be short with you. I just didn't expect or want to climb with anyone today. And I really don't feel like small talk. I hope you understand."
There. Firm, yet polite. If the old man was in any way offended, he certainly didn't show it.
He stared at me intently, then sighed. "You'll lose yourself up here, my friend. I promise you. You'll lose yourself and never find your way back home."
A look of pity crossed his face. "I just am hopin' that you'll see it before it's too late. Because so many of us don't, you know."
He took another pull from the canteen and looked up at the crystalline-gray sky as the wind howled like a lamenting banshee, reverberating off the mountaintop. A chill ran through my weary bones. I had to put a stop to this old man's incessant rambling.
"Break's over old man." I declared as I slapped my knees, stood up, and passed him a challenging look that could have cut through rock.
As I rose, the old man put his weathered hand on my cold shoulder, and gripped it punishingly. I winced in pain as he stared into my eyes.
"You know, son...there are unwritten rules of mountain climbing. Three rules that a man must know before he tackles her majesty. Do you know them, son?"
I began to seethe. This had gone on long enough. I broke from his grip with a violent shrug and spat, "Look, Mr. McClaren, I've had all I'm going to take of your asini ..."
"Enough, Trooter!" he barked with an authority that silenced me immediately.
"I know why yer here son. And I know what yer fixing to accomplish. Even if you yourself don't know it yet."
He glared at me with an accusatory tone that immediately made me feel ashamed.
"I'm gonna teach you these three rules, son. And when I'm finished I'll speak no more. But until that time, you listen to old Micah, you hear boy-o?"
I nodded slowly. I would listen. I had no other choice.
"The first rule of mountain climbing is a simple one." He began.
"It's that a man...any man...must always climb with passion. Passion is essential to any climber who hopes to reach the summit. It is an immutable law of the universe. Without passion a man cannot achieve. Not ever. Can you say that you climb with passion, Trooter?"
The old man's eyes locked onto mine and became mesmerized. And I saw her.
It was Molly, staring at me. It was us, on the dance floor of the Hyatt in downtown Boston during our senior year of college. It was our winter formal.
She looked so beautiful. So young. So vibrant. I was 22 years old again. And I felt a lump in my throat as I held her on the laminate of the dance floor, a tear in my eye as I tried to express to her in words the feelings that had flooded my being.
"Molly, I-I-I..."
"Shhh...Jimmy. I know."
"No Molly. I don't think you do."
"Do you think we'll always be together, Jimmy?" she asked, blinking back the tears welling up in those big green Irish eyes of hers.
"You're my world, Molly. You're the best part of me. I don't know who I was before you. My heart hurts. It's so full of love. I ache for you Molly. I never knew what that expression meant before, but I know it now. My heart aches for you. Does that answer your question?"
I was breathless. And we kissed. Deep, long and hard. And we whirled around that dance floor, like two spirits gliding upon a billowing cloud.
It was love. And it was passion. It was the reason that human beings exist on this earth, pure and simple. And if you've never felt it before, friend...seek it out. Because there isn't another feeling like it. I promise you.
Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. I saw Micah McClaren's eyes, and I felt the cold, darkness of the mountain cover over me. I was no longer on that dance floor. I was no longer that young, hopeful boy in love.
"The truth must always be true," the old man remarked. "It simply cannot be otherwise. A man must always climb with passion."
I was dizzy. I could smell Molly's perfume. I could taste her lips. I could feel her heat.
When did I stop climbing with passion?
"The second rule, Trooter," Micah bellowed, snapping me out of my trance. "is a simple one. The path to achievement is paved with adversity. A man must overcome all obstacles." His eyes pierced my soul, and through them I was taken back to a day, almost five years ago.
"Jimmy, I'm pregnant."
"Pregnant?" I was stunned. "Molly, are you kidding me? How the fuck can that be! I-I-I thought you were careful, for chrissakes!"
I could see the unadulterated hurt in her eyes. The argument continued. But the damage was done.
I never offered her solace. I never held her. I never reassured her. I never provided the comfort that she so desperately needed at that moment. Instead I pouted. I scowled. I complained for nine fucking months. And when our third child was born, I winced.
Things turned out beautifully. Maddy was a wonderful addition to our family. And though I acted like a selfish child during the pregnancy, I thought my positive actions once she was born, were enough of an apology.
I saw now that they weren't. I was faced with adversity, and I failed my beloved Molly at a time she needed me most. I now saw how weak I was. And it made me sick.
One of my favorite writers, William DeMille, once said, "I have always admired the ability to bite off more than one can chew and then chew it." This was my one chance to chew what I had bitten off with gusto, and I failed. I failed myself. I failed Molly. And even thought she has no idea, I failed my baby girl Maddy.
I turned red as shame flooded my cheeks. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Though my climbing companion would hear none of it. He wasn't finished.
"Rule number three," he declared with seemingly no regard for my pain "is one that supercedes all others. You knew this rule once. But you've forgotten it."
I hung my head in shame. I had no idea what he'd say, but I knew he would be right. I had made so many mistakes.
"Please, Mr. McClaren. I see now. I let my wife and my family down. You needn't go any further."
"Oh but I do, boy-o. You see, it's not that I'm educating you on things you've never heard before. I'm reminding you of things you've known all your life. Things you've neglected to practice as the years have gone on."
He was right. The unwavering morals I'd prided myself on when I was younger had somehow slipped away. How had that happened? How does a man lose himself? I'm sure I don't know...but it happens. It happened to me.
Micah McClaren's steely blue eyes focused on me one last time. He spoke. And his words, they reached me.
"The third rule of mountain climbing, Trooter, is that one must never—ever—turn their back on their partner."
I became enraged. How dare this old man! I knew exactly what he implying, and I immediately took the defensive.
"Listen here, Mr. McClaren. You've stepped way over the line. My wife is the single most..."
"Trooter, listen to old Micah, now!" he screamed.
"The path to inner peace is paved with personal loyalty. To accept responsibility for the welfare of another, and then to guard that person's interest as though it were your own—this is the true mark of a happy, vibrant life."
I was stunned. I was silent. I was ashamed.
"By manifesting loyalty to another, you learn the single most important truth of this earth. The truth of friendship. It's the only reason we're here."
Through his eyes I witnessed years of betrayals. Small ones to be sure, but betrayals nonetheless. Countless instances of me turning my back on my partner. Telling her she was too harsh here, or taking someone else's side in an argument there. Not being supportive enough when she needed me most.
Little things. Things we tend to forget. But things that kill the spirit. Things that slowly, surely erode a relationship over time. Things we don't always see. But things that exist. I felt utterly and hopelessly ashamed.
Suddenly, at that moment—my past made pace with my future and I found myself at the top of the mountain, looking down into oblivion. I turned to my left to see the old man glaring intently at me.
"You're here James Trooter. You're at the apex. You're exactly where you thought you wanted to be. What path will you choose?"
He was right. I wasn't sure how I got here. But here I was. It was my time now. I knew I had to make a choice.
Only hours ago, I was drowning in a sea of self-pity. Like a speck on the map. I thought my life had no meaning. Everything I had ever tried to accomplish had failed. No purpose. No significance.
I didn't consciously know it then, but now I realized that I had come up here to die. To take the coward's way out. To free myself of my own self-loathing. But I realized now that I was wrong.
I was a climber. A fighter. As a human being, it was my duty, my honor, and my privilege to better myself. To love and cherish the life that was bestowed upon me. My adoring wife. My beautiful children. My blessed home. They were a gift. It had been so long since I'd seen it that way.
I turned to Micah with tears in my eyes. I dropped to my knees and wept at his feet. He nodded solemnly and placed a weathered hand on my weary shoulder.
"You've seen all you need to see, my friend. Your path is clear. Go to them, boy-o. Go to them and live. And never again forget why you're here."
And with those final words, my guardian angel disappeared. Suddenly, clarity...the clarity that had eluded me for years, had found its way to my heart. And I felt something I hadn't felt in quite some time. I felt whole.
It was one dark day on the mountain. The darkest I'd ever seen. But as I looked to the sky at that moment, the clouds parted. They opened for me, and I understood.
Tomorrow the sun would shine again and I would have a new opportunity.
I would live. I would respect. I would appreciate all that I had.
And I would never look back.
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