The Mountain Shadow (73 page)

‘I love my stepfather. He’s kind, and brilliant. He’s one of the finest human beings I’ve ever known. I’ve betrayed him, with my life. I’ve betrayed his integrity with what I’ve become.’

I didn’t know why I’d said it, or how the words had spilled from an urn of shame. I’d closed a steel door on the hurt I’d caused that fine man. Some things we do to others kneel so long in our hearts that bone becomes stone: a scarecrow in a chapel.

‘Sorry, Idriss. I got emotional.’

‘Excellent,’ Idriss said softly. ‘Have a smoke.’

He passed me the chillum. I smoked, and settled down.

‘Okay,’ Idriss said, leaning back and tucking his feet under his calves, ‘let’s wrap this up before some nice, sweet fellow comes along, with some girlfriend problem that I have to listen to. What’s the matter with these young people? Don’t they know it’s
supposed
to be problematic? Are you ready?’

‘Please,’ I said, not ready at all, ‘go ahead.’

‘The set of positive characteristics is in every particle of matter in existence, expressed at its own level of complexity, and the more complex the arrangement of the matter, the more complex the manifestation of the set of positive characteristics. Are you with me so far?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Very well. At our human level of complexity, two remarkable things happen. First, we have non-evolutionary knowledge. Second, we have the capacity to override our animal nature, and behave like the unique human-animals that we are. Do you see?’

‘Master!’ Silvano said, rushing into the space. ‘Can I take Lin with me, for a minute? Please!’

Idriss laughed happily.

‘Of course, Silvano, of course. Go with him, Lin. We’ll have more talks, later.’

‘As you say, Idriss. I’ll go through my notes, and be prepared when we talk again.’

Silvano rushed through the mesa, and onto the gentler path leading from the mountain.

‘Hurry!’ he called, sprinting ahead.

He branched off onto a side path, climbing very steeply to a break in the trees. There was a knoll, with a view toward the setting sun. Breathless, puffing hard, we stood side by side and stared at the view.

‘Look!’ Silvano said, pointing at a place near the centre of the horizon.

There was a building: a church, it seemed, with a spire.

‘We have not missed it.’

As the red shimmer of the sun began to set, rays of light struck the ornament at the top of the church spire.

From our vantage, I couldn’t see what the ornament was, a cross, or a cross within a circle, but the light radiating from the spire for a few moments was a field of coloured light, bathing all the homes and buildings in the valley.

It vanished in evening’s haze, as the sun slept.

‘Brilliant,’ I said. ‘When did you find this?’

‘Yesterday,’ he grinned, heading back to the camp, and his protected sage. ‘I was dying to show it to you. I don’t know how long it will last. Maybe another day or two, before the glory is gone.’

Chapter Forty-Three

W
HEN WE REJOINED THE GROUP ON THE MESA
I saw Stuart Vinson, with Rannveig, talking to Idriss in the same chairs where I’d been sitting. What was it Idriss had said?
Some nice, sweet fellow comes along, with some girlfriend problem that I have to listen to
.

I left them alone with him, and did some chores in the kitchen. I was washing dishes when Vinson and Rannveig joined me. Rannveig picked up a tea towel, and began drying the dishes. Candles in mounds like wax models of the mountain lit the space with yellow light. Vinson watched us from the doorway. Rannveig turned ice-blue eyes on him. He jumped forward, and began putting the dry dishes away.

‘You know,’ I said to the girl, ‘there’s an alternative to
Rannveig, like the runway at the airport
, in English. You can also be
Rannveig, as in catwalk runway
.’

‘I prefer airports,’ she said sternly. ‘But thank you for your thought. I have seen Karla.’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘I would like to tell you about it, but in private. Is there somewhere we can go?’

‘I guess. Sure.’

‘Stuart,’ she said, giving him the tea towel. ‘I’m talking with Lin, for a while. Come and get me, in twenty minutes.’

I dried my hands and led her from the open kitchen to a fallen tree that many used as a place to read or converse. We sat down alone. I looked at Vinson, in the open kitchen, washing dishes contentedly.

‘I lied,’ Rannveig said.

‘About what?’

‘Karla didn’t say or do anything that I would have to tell you privately. Karla only told me to tell you that she’ll see you soon, and that she was keeping the faith, and changing the faith every day, just to be sure.’

‘Nice,’ I said, smiling. ‘What
do
you want to talk about, Rannveig?’

‘Your girlfriend, Lisa,’ she said intently.

She was searching my eyes, unsure whether she’d crossed a line or not.

‘Because your boyfriend died from an overdose, too?’

‘Yes,’ she said, lowering her eyes, then raising them quickly to look at Vinson.

‘It’s okay,’ I said.

She turned to face me.

‘When I heard about it,’ she said, ‘I was shocked. I only met her once, but it punched me in the stomach, you know?’

‘Me, too. How are
you
coping?’

‘How do I look?’

She’d filled out a little, and there was a healthy pink blush in her cheeks. Her startling eyes, blue light through blue ice, were clear. Her hands, which had fidgeted and curled into themselves whenever I’d seen her before, were as calm as sleeping kittens in her lap.

She wore a sky-blue T-shirt, a man’s suit vest, and faded jeans. Her feet were bare. She wore no jewellery or make-up. Her oval-shaped face was driven by a strong nose, and full lips.

‘You look very pretty,’ I said.

She frowned at me. Maybe she thought I was coming on to her.

‘I’m not coming on to you,’ I laughed. ‘I’m taken, for this and many lifetimes, past and to come.’

‘You are? You found someone again, after –’

‘Before. And after. Yeah.’

‘And you’re connected to someone? Like before?’

‘Oh, yeah. But not like before.’

‘Better?’

‘Better. And it’ll get better for you.’

She looked at Vinson, drying dishes.

‘My family, in Norway, they’re very strict Catholics. My boyfriend was everything they hated, so, you know, to show my independence I followed him to India.’

‘What was he doing in India?’

‘We were supposed to be going to an ashram, but when we got to Bombay, we never moved.’

‘He’d been here before?’

‘A few times, yes. Now, I know it was for drugs, each time.’

‘But it hurt, when he died. And it still hurts, right?’

‘I wasn’t in love with him, but I liked him a lot, and I really tried to care for him.’

‘And what about Vinson?’

‘I think I’m falling in love with Stuart. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like this about anyone. But I’m not letting myself go to him. I can’t. I know he wants it, and I want it too, but I can’t.’

‘Well . . . ’

‘How are you coping with it?’ she demanded, her mouth wide with pleading. ‘How did you get connected again?’

How did I get connected again? It was a good question, for a man who was a mountain away from the woman he loves.

‘Stuart will be generous, I think,’ I said. ‘He’ll give you time. There’s no rush. From what I can see, he’s much happier than when I first met him.’

‘He could be happier,’ she sighed. ‘And so could I. Do you get stuck, sometimes, in memories?’

‘Sure.’

‘You do?’

‘Sure. It’s a natural thing. We’re emotional minds. And it’s okay, so long as it’s a ride, and not a way of life. Are you flashing back?’

‘Yeah. I see him in my mind, when I stop thinking. It’s like he’s still with me.’

‘You know, the guy you were talking to, the sage, Idriss, he told someone yesterday that they can release a departed spirit by offering food, on a plate, by a river, and leaving it there for the crows and the mice to eat.’

‘How . . . how does that work?’

‘I’m no expert, but apparently the appeased spirits are released, to the next part of the journey.’

‘I’d try anything, at the moment. Whenever I relax and stop thinking, he’s right beside me.’

I’d started the conversation about appeasing departed spirits as a distraction, to raise her own spirits, but the words opened a door in her eyes, showing how afraid she was inside. She was shaking. She hugged herself.

‘Listen, Rannveig, you know, there’s a river you have to cross, on the way back to the main road. I’ll prepare a plate for you, and you can leave it by the river, if you like. Did your boyfriend have a sweet tooth?’

‘He did.’

‘Good. There’s plenty of sweets prepared for tonight. Maybe your boyfriend will be so happy he’ll move on, and leave you alone.’

‘Thank you. I’ll definitely try it.’

‘It’s gonna be okay,’ I said. ‘It gets easier.’

‘Do you meditate?’

‘Only when I’m writing. Why?’

‘I’ve been thinking I should start meditating or something,’ she said absently, then quickly found my eyes again. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘Vinson?’

‘Yes, Stuart. I don’t have a brother or father here to ask about him. What do you think of him?’

I looked at Vinson, stacking the last of the pots and dishes on the shelves, and wiping down the long stainless steel sinks.

‘I like him,’ I said. ‘And I’m absolutely sure he’s nuts about you. If you’re not his soul mate, Rannveig, you should break it to him. Soon. This is it, for him.’

‘Do you ever get depressed? Stuart told me some things about you. About your life. Do you ever get days when you think of suicide?’

‘Never in captivity, and one way or another, most of my life has been spent in captivity.’

‘Seriously. Do you ever have days when you simply want it to end? All of it, at once?’

‘Look, suicide and I are nodding acquaintances. But I’m more your till-the-last-dying-breath kind of guy.’

‘But life can be so shit, sometimes,’ she said, looking at me again.

‘It’s all good, even the bad stuff. It’s all blood, flowing through the heart, and wonderful minutes, of wonderful things. I’m a writer. I have to believe in the power of love. Suicide isn’t an option.’

‘Not for you.’

‘And not for you. If you’re thinking about it, you can also put some thought into the fact that you don’t have the right to take your own life. Nobody does.’

‘Why not?’ Rannveig like the runway asked, her eyes wide, innocent of the cruel, broken question she’d just asked.

‘Think of it this way, Rannveig, does a deranged person have the right to kill a stranger?’

‘No.’

‘No. And when suicide is in your head,
you’re
the deranged person, and you’re also the stranger, in danger of the harm you might do to yourself. No matter how bad things get, you don’t have the right to kill the stranger that you might become, for a while, in your own life. The rest of your life would tell you, at that point, it’s not an option.’

‘But you don’t get the blues, ever?’ she asked.

She was so earnest that I wanted to put my arm around her.

‘Of course. Everybody does. But you’re young, and your life is so rich. It’s a hoard of minutes. We don’t have the right to destroy them, or even waste them, as I’m doing. We only have the right to experience them. So, get that crap out of your head. Not an option, okay? And don’t stress. It’ll pass. Vinson’s a good guy. He’ll wait as long as it takes for you to make up your mind, and get your feelings right, whichever way they fall. Everything will pass. Get up and fight.’

‘You’re right, I know, but sometimes the cloud takes a long time to clear the sun.’

‘You’re a very nice, very serious girl, who went through the same burning door that I did. It knocked you around, like it did me. You’re doing fine. You’re doing great. Look at me. I was running around town getting kicked by the cops. You’re so much healthier than when I saw you last time. Talk to Idriss before you leave. He’s pretty cool.’

‘You are a criminal,’ she said flatly.

It was a statement.

‘Ah . . . sure.’

‘Can a woman who is
not
a criminal, love a criminal? Have you seen this?’

I had, but not often.

‘Ah . . . sure.’

She looked doubtful, but I didn’t want to convince her.