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Chapter 11: Quiet Mountain, Part 2
Robbie trudged silently through the gray forest toward a large mountain just up ahead. Whenever Baby got scared back at home, he would jump supernaturally high up to a stalactite on the ceiling. This, from a dinosaur who couldn’t walk. So, logically, he might very well have gone up to the mountain. He noticed a large sheet of white paper nailed to a distant tree. Upon approaching, he noticed it was a map of the valley.
Why are there always helpful maps just when you need them in situations like these, Robbie wondered to himself, walking with his hands in his pockets. He noticed a Wesayso logo in the right bottom corner. Hm, they intended to put up a ski lift over here.
“I want you to be my daddy,” Baby’s high-pitched voice cheerfully announced (with some reverb).
Robbie stopped and looked around anxiously. A few birds and small pterodactyls flew off into the sky from the tops of the trees, and some large insects buzzed to his right. However, there was no sign of his baby brother.
He had told Spike to take Sonny back to the band. For some strange reason that he couldn’t quite understand, Spike just silently nodded and left with the allergy-suffering mammal. Robbie sighed. He shouldn’t have mouthed off to Spike yesterday, he thought sullenly. Spike apparently thought his friend was too good for the pack life, though he wasn’t willing to say it.
Yet …
… except for his brother, Robert Mark Sinclair didn’t have any males to call family anymore.
Except for his siblings, he didn’t have any family anymore … even “Uncle” Roy and the guys from his father’s work.
Just as he got to the base of the mountain, Robbie saw something white fluttering up the side about fifty feet up. He started to climb, but at about fifteen feet up he began to wish he had brought a thermos with him. Or a canteen. Or just a sippy-cup. Anything would be helpful.
A rock underneath his right foot slipped and he fell back down to the ground with a large “Oof”. Robbie gagged as water started pouring onto his head. He stood up, wiped his face off with his jacket, and looked up. A stream of pressurized water shot out of a small hole where the rock had been. He cupped his hands and sniffed it. It smelled like strawberries. He tasted a little and cringed and spat it out.
Whoa, he griped to himself, that stuff’s WAY too carbonated. There must be enough caffeine in that stuff to kill a full-grown swamp monster.
With a new sense of determination, Rob started to climb the mountain. He arrived at a wide ledge and looked around after catching his breath. He heard a faint fluttering sound and looked to his left. Maybe it was another drawing, though it seemed a little thick. He hopped over to it and grabbed and clutched it in his hands … only to realize it was a discarded (and used) diaper.
“Ewewewewewew! Gross!” he cried, chucking it down the mountainside. He vigorously wiped his hands on his jacket … wishing he had kept some of that vile-tasting water so he could wash his hands. He stared down at the mountain….
After washing his hands, it was time to climb back up all the way to the ledge. Having reached it a second time, Robbie started calling out for his brother, cupping both hands around his snout. He saw trees all around on the valley floor, a breeze starting to shake the ash from the canopy, resurrecting the area in a wash of green. Leaves of many shapes and sizes twirled into the air as Robbie watched in a random awe.
Some of us are trees, rooted in the ground, some of us are leaves that the breeze blows all around. Robbie’s eyes started to water – the whole thing reminded him of family. Back when he was a child, his grandmother would read him a story about a tree that switched lives with a tree-pusher. When Baby was younger, Robbie had put it into his brother’s head that the tree-pusher was actually his father and that it was a secret, since at the end of the story the tree-pusher didn’t remember what had happened to him and it wasn’t nice to bring up a painful past. So, Robbie sometimes wondered if his baby brother ever imagined his father when Grandma Ethyl read that same story to him.
He noticed some movement further along the ledge. A tail. A thick, green tail.
“Dad?” he whispered.
He ran, his heart racing. He couldn’t believe that his parents had survived the nuclear winter and had even made it to the valley. Maybe they had decided to just hop in the car after all.
A fine white mist filled his range of vision and Robbie stopped dead cold. The mist was freezing on his skin. He shook, afraid to move, lest he accidentally fall off the ledge.
An oval caveperson’s face appeared in the mist to his side. It smirked. “If your destiny is to swim, you must get your feet wet,” it offered in a silky voice. Suddenly, it vanished, the mist dissipating. “Robbie?” it seemed to whisper in a caring female voice.
“Robbie!” he heard a female voice proclaim loudly as he found himself nearly crushed in two thick green arms that threatened to crack his ribs. It had a familiar twang to it….
Robbie managed to break free and let the new arrival come into focus. It was his father … he thought. The same bulky green scales with the pale underside … only this Earl wore rose-red lipstick and blue eyeshadow and a light beige long-sleeved shirt with a fringed collar and sleeves.
“Aunt … Aunt Pearl? Is it really you?” he gasped, blinking distinctly. He glanced down the side of the mountain. “Uh, no offense, but how did you climb up here?”
Pearl, who kinda looked like Earl in drag, smiled and waved dismissively at her nephew. “Aw, shucks, Rob … those little cave-folk have a stairway built up to this ledge about fifty feet ‘round this here mountain.”
Pearl led Robbie around the mountainside to a large cave. Deep inside, in the middle of a huddled group of fur-clad cavepeople, sat Baby, who was laughing and telling jokes. Pearl nudged Robbie, staring at her youngest nephew. “Yeah, heard the little pink dumplin’ yellin’ and screamin’ at imaginary monsters from way up on that ledge. Poor little thing ripped off his diaper and jumped off the ledge and practically just belly-flopped right in my big green lovin’ arms!” She laughed as though the child had drawn her a picture for her refrigerator. “Those cave-folk came outta this tunnel and motioned for us to come on in, so that’s precisely what I did.” She sighed happily, slapping her teen nephew hard on the back. “Yes sir … I sure am glad to know you folks managed to show up here. I thought Earl’d be dragged here by his wife!”
Robbie lowered his head.
Author’s Note: this is the last part of this chapter. Yes, there was some weird stuff happening. Those things will be revealed later. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!
Robbie trudged silently through the gray forest toward a large mountain just up ahead. Whenever Baby got scared back at home, he would jump supernaturally high up to a stalactite on the ceiling. This, from a dinosaur who couldn’t walk. So, logically, he might very well have gone up to the mountain. He noticed a large sheet of white paper nailed to a distant tree. Upon approaching, he noticed it was a map of the valley.
Why are there always helpful maps just when you need them in situations like these, Robbie wondered to himself, walking with his hands in his pockets. He noticed a Wesayso logo in the right bottom corner. Hm, they intended to put up a ski lift over here.
“I want you to be my daddy,” Baby’s high-pitched voice cheerfully announced (with some reverb).
Robbie stopped and looked around anxiously. A few birds and small pterodactyls flew off into the sky from the tops of the trees, and some large insects buzzed to his right. However, there was no sign of his baby brother.
He had told Spike to take Sonny back to the band. For some strange reason that he couldn’t quite understand, Spike just silently nodded and left with the allergy-suffering mammal. Robbie sighed. He shouldn’t have mouthed off to Spike yesterday, he thought sullenly. Spike apparently thought his friend was too good for the pack life, though he wasn’t willing to say it.
Yet …
… except for his brother, Robert Mark Sinclair didn’t have any males to call family anymore.
Except for his siblings, he didn’t have any family anymore … even “Uncle” Roy and the guys from his father’s work.
Just as he got to the base of the mountain, Robbie saw something white fluttering up the side about fifty feet up. He started to climb, but at about fifteen feet up he began to wish he had brought a thermos with him. Or a canteen. Or just a sippy-cup. Anything would be helpful.
A rock underneath his right foot slipped and he fell back down to the ground with a large “Oof”. Robbie gagged as water started pouring onto his head. He stood up, wiped his face off with his jacket, and looked up. A stream of pressurized water shot out of a small hole where the rock had been. He cupped his hands and sniffed it. It smelled like strawberries. He tasted a little and cringed and spat it out.
Whoa, he griped to himself, that stuff’s WAY too carbonated. There must be enough caffeine in that stuff to kill a full-grown swamp monster.
With a new sense of determination, Rob started to climb the mountain. He arrived at a wide ledge and looked around after catching his breath. He heard a faint fluttering sound and looked to his left. Maybe it was another drawing, though it seemed a little thick. He hopped over to it and grabbed and clutched it in his hands … only to realize it was a discarded (and used) diaper.
“Ewewewewewew! Gross!” he cried, chucking it down the mountainside. He vigorously wiped his hands on his jacket … wishing he had kept some of that vile-tasting water so he could wash his hands. He stared down at the mountain….
After washing his hands, it was time to climb back up all the way to the ledge. Having reached it a second time, Robbie started calling out for his brother, cupping both hands around his snout. He saw trees all around on the valley floor, a breeze starting to shake the ash from the canopy, resurrecting the area in a wash of green. Leaves of many shapes and sizes twirled into the air as Robbie watched in a random awe.
Some of us are trees, rooted in the ground, some of us are leaves that the breeze blows all around. Robbie’s eyes started to water – the whole thing reminded him of family. Back when he was a child, his grandmother would read him a story about a tree that switched lives with a tree-pusher. When Baby was younger, Robbie had put it into his brother’s head that the tree-pusher was actually his father and that it was a secret, since at the end of the story the tree-pusher didn’t remember what had happened to him and it wasn’t nice to bring up a painful past. So, Robbie sometimes wondered if his baby brother ever imagined his father when Grandma Ethyl read that same story to him.
He noticed some movement further along the ledge. A tail. A thick, green tail.
“Dad?” he whispered.
He ran, his heart racing. He couldn’t believe that his parents had survived the nuclear winter and had even made it to the valley. Maybe they had decided to just hop in the car after all.
A fine white mist filled his range of vision and Robbie stopped dead cold. The mist was freezing on his skin. He shook, afraid to move, lest he accidentally fall off the ledge.
An oval caveperson’s face appeared in the mist to his side. It smirked. “If your destiny is to swim, you must get your feet wet,” it offered in a silky voice. Suddenly, it vanished, the mist dissipating. “Robbie?” it seemed to whisper in a caring female voice.
“Robbie!” he heard a female voice proclaim loudly as he found himself nearly crushed in two thick green arms that threatened to crack his ribs. It had a familiar twang to it….
Robbie managed to break free and let the new arrival come into focus. It was his father … he thought. The same bulky green scales with the pale underside … only this Earl wore rose-red lipstick and blue eyeshadow and a light beige long-sleeved shirt with a fringed collar and sleeves.
“Aunt … Aunt Pearl? Is it really you?” he gasped, blinking distinctly. He glanced down the side of the mountain. “Uh, no offense, but how did you climb up here?”
Pearl, who kinda looked like Earl in drag, smiled and waved dismissively at her nephew. “Aw, shucks, Rob … those little cave-folk have a stairway built up to this ledge about fifty feet ‘round this here mountain.”
Pearl led Robbie around the mountainside to a large cave. Deep inside, in the middle of a huddled group of fur-clad cavepeople, sat Baby, who was laughing and telling jokes. Pearl nudged Robbie, staring at her youngest nephew. “Yeah, heard the little pink dumplin’ yellin’ and screamin’ at imaginary monsters from way up on that ledge. Poor little thing ripped off his diaper and jumped off the ledge and practically just belly-flopped right in my big green lovin’ arms!” She laughed as though the child had drawn her a picture for her refrigerator. “Those cave-folk came outta this tunnel and motioned for us to come on in, so that’s precisely what I did.” She sighed happily, slapping her teen nephew hard on the back. “Yes sir … I sure am glad to know you folks managed to show up here. I thought Earl’d be dragged here by his wife!”
Robbie lowered his head.
Author’s Note: this is the last part of this chapter. Yes, there was some weird stuff happening. Those things will be revealed later. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!
There is also the theme of stifling offspring/relatives. While understandable, it also presents some risks when situations change. While in nursing school, I've also had a job off and on caring for the elderly, the issues regarding death and feelings of lives left wanting reflect that. I had wanted "Quiet Mountain" to be a little funnier parody of "Silent Hill" ... but it really is a depressing story, so other than some jabs at the conventions in the games, I left it rather solemn.