Tom winced in pain from the antiseptic smell of the Summit County Hospital. They had been waiting for an hour, an hour too long. He hated hospitals. They were absolutely necessary, but he stayed away from them as much as possible. Ever since he had been a young man, his first memories were of their lonely corridors. He despised that antiseptic smell, the terribly clean sterile smell. He had spent a week in the Albany Medical Center, being treated for Rheumatic Fever, and he never forgot those long poking and probing days and endless dreary, scary nights. All he wanted to do was go home, they wouldn’t let him so he wept. He was weeping now, but this time for his best friend, laying with tubes and casts protruding from his mangled body.
Toby was lying with his eyes closed in the far bed by the window. There were ten beds in the room. Three others were filled with the main disease of ski towns: BROKEN BONES. Tom and Joe walked quietly up to the bed. Tobey opened his eyes and weakly smiled.
“Hi guys,” he whispered.
“Hey Tobe,” Tom sat on the edge of the bed, and took his hand. “I know this is a dumb question, but how do you feel?”
Joe walked around and sat on the other side, watching the two men talk.
“I’m lucky they tell me, tho, I don’t feel that lucky right now.”
“We’re all just happy you’re alive,” Tom tightened his grip on Toby’s hand. He looked down at his helpless friend, wishing there was something he could do to ease the pain.
“What happened anyway?”
“Lance, he blew number three, to get back at me for selling out. They're taking him to Denver, for Psych evaluation, and then probably jail. I should have seen it all coming. I saw the signs, the short answers, the quick temper. He had that look in his eyes. The same distant look you get when you’re gazing across a ridge after a battle wondering where the future lies. I’m just sorry you were hurt, you get some sleep now son. We’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’m gonna go for a walk, Joe. You go on.”
“Are you sure/”
“Yeah.”
“He’ll be O.K.”
“I know, I’ll see you back at the Basin.”
Tom started walking as Joe pulled out of the parking lot, His eyes were teary and blurred as he tried to focus on the pavement, he kicked maliciously at the chunks of snow lining the pavement. One hell of a way to wind up a season, he thought. He stuffed his hands into his denim pockets, as he made his way through the familiar town of Dillon. Something inside of him was dead, it had died with the news of the sale of his dream mountain, and he didn’t know if he would ever really feel alive again. He took no notice of, what he thought of as, a ghost town, around him.
He began to run. A slow jog at first, and then faster and faster until perspiration started to soaked his skin. His legs began to ache as he passed the Moose Jaw, the Corinthian Hills, Keystone Village and headed up, the pass, toward the Basin. When the grade began to rise, he felt like death was only ten steps away. He kept running, and running until the grade steepened sharply. He fell into a snowbank on the side of the road, gripping his stomach, as he laid back and closed his eyes. A few minutes had passed, and the worst was over. He opened his eyes and stared up at the cloud- covered sky. An angry front was steadily making its way up the valley and looked like it would strangle the mountain. It was blocking the sun from the highest peaks. His breathing slowed down and returned to normal, he took one last deep breath. The tears came, he let them gladly flow, to cleanse his system of the pain and disappointment he had held for so long.
Over The Hills And Far Away, Led Zeppelin
I always wished for time to write when I was working on the ranch.
Be Careful What You Wish For!
I am being advised not to leave my house, no excuses not to write.
Thank You Lord for keeping me safe from the rain and hurricanes, and teaching me what hell would be like, if I wasn't a good man.