160; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure;) Chapter XXVII; Toby is Alive

       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.

159; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure;) Chapter XXVI; March-Tom's Return

     

     It had been several weeks since Tom had left the Basin. Toby was on the mountain skiing the headwall. It was a black diamond trail with a steep pitch that left absolutely no room for any error. He was feeling a winning attitude in his heart for his sport. The thrill of the speed, the rush of the wind, the glimmer and sparkle of the ivory crystals in his eyes, he was warmed by the intensity of the sun at twelve thousand feet in elevation. He felt at one with himself and the world around him. It was this inner piece that kept him coming back to the mountain year after year. Not knowing why, he simply felt good, it was great to let go and float through the endless ecstasy of powder.

     Rushing down the steep grade of the cornice above the headwall, he knew Coach and Tom were right. There was something magical, primal about the mountain, it was a humbling mentor and lover. The serenity and silence disturbed only by the deafening roar of unstable powder in the backcountry. He hit the bottom of the transition, compressed and shot up the steep slope that would drop him over into the front-side. Skirting the evergreens alongside the trails he could catch Grizzly Road to International and the Lodge.

     Heading down International out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of  sunlight down in the parking lot. He was several hundred yards above it and could see people milling about. From the direction of the flash, he noticed the unmistakeable and familiar black cowboy hat bobbing up and down from the far left of the parking lot toward the lodge. It was Tom's silver dollar centerpiece.

     Toby started through the pines that dotted the lower slope. Gathering momentum he would shoot through the trees and come up on the lower end of the lot. The trail would lead Toby to the lower moguls and the number three lift station. Approaching the station, he looked up to see Lance, far off to the right, standing waving his arms in the air. He was motioning Toby to go back. Toby stopped abruptly, next to the number three station.

     “Go Back! Go Back!” was the last thing Toby heard before the explosion and the enveloping blackness.

     Lance was the first to reach him, followed by Tom and a few seconds later, Joe.

     “Don’t be dead! Don’t be dead! Please! Please! Please! Don’t be Dead,” he sat cradling Toby’s blood stained head and torso. Toby’s legs were sticking out from his body at odd angles. A bone protruded from the calf of his right leg. His left arm was pinned grotesquely behind his upper torso. Lance rested his head against Toby’s, his body convulsed with sobs. Toby’s skis were scattered twenty feet away along with debris from the building that once was the number three lift station. Smoke was rising as pieces of burning wood melted the snow where it had fallen.

     “Get Away!” Joe commanded, throwing Lance to the side. He had come running to join Tom at the sound of the explosion.

     “He’s barely breathing. Call an ambulance! Joe straddled Toby and began performing CPR. “Toby, Hold On! Come On Son! Just Hold On! Joe looked at Toby, and then back at Lance.

     “What the hell is going on here Lance?”

Tom dropped his pack and lunged at Lance grabbing him by his jacket.

     “You did this? Didn’t Ya! Didn’t Ya Lance?” He screamed at him, hitting him, over and over. Lance staggered backwards and made no attempt to defend him-self.

Several onlookers grabbed Tom and pulled him away. Lance stood there just staring at Toby. Tom broke free from his restraint and confronted Lance again.

     “You did this! You did this! How could you?”

     “No!” Lance held his jaw.

     “What?” Tom cried.

     “Joe did this! He sold out to the Senator” Lance was backing up, pointing and shaking his finger, hysterically at Joe. “It’s all your fault you sold out to the multi-nationals, you sold out the country!” Lance was raving, and crying wildly as the ambulance pulled into the parking lot.

     “Jesus! What happened here?” The attendant asked the crowd.

     No one answered as the medics took over CPR and Toby’s vitals. The mountain silence was deafening as they worked to get him on the backboard and load him on the stretcher and start for the Unimog.

     “Is he going to be alright? Will he live? Tom questioned.

Joe and Tom both watched as the medics worked on Toby frantically. Tom looked into Joe’s eyes as the door was closing and they could see the medic shake his head back and forth.

   The crowd stood back to allow the Summit County Sheriff’s Patrol access to the scene.

     “It’s Lance, Burt, over there, it was him” Joe pointed.

Lance stood looking at the ground as Burt walked over and pulled his arms behind him and began reading him his rights.

     Tom stood motionless, and in deep shock. “This is insanity. What is the mountain and the Senator doing to all of us? They have us at each other’s throats. Violence is never the answer. It’s killing us. It doesn’t have to be this way. It doesn’t have to happen. If I hadn’t left, none of this would have happened. What have I done?”

     Joe reached over and put his arm around Tom. Everything they both believed in was driving away in the ambulance. Life, their lives as they knew them, would never be the same, when the Basin, like Toby was gone. They would have many loves in their lives and many losses, none would ever rival the great love and immeasurable loss they would know for this Majestic Basin.

From The Beginning; Greg Lake

158;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure;) Chapter XXV; Tom's Reckoning

                     

 

      Tom stepped off the Greyhound out of Summit County and into Vail. He buttoned his black preacher coat against the stark evening cold. The thirteen thousand foot Gore Range and the spires of the Grand Traverse glowed fiery orange in the last light of the alpenglow. The turquoise tinged sky faded into darkness. Tugging at his Stetson and slipping into his backpack, he walked across the Vail Transportation Center and down the concrete stairs. The snow crisp, cold, crunched beneath his worn hiking boots. A thick blanket of it nestled on the roof of the Covered Bridge. It was the oldest structure in Vail Village. The crystals sparkled against the wooden shakes, illuminated by the lights of the Alpine Village. The noise of the tourists talking was replaced by the dull thud of his boots on the wooden planks. The rushing and bubbling of Gore Creek filled the evening air. Halfway across the bridge, Tom stopped and turned toward the rushing water. The flowing water tugged strongly at his heart. Silently, he stood and listened. He thought of his friend. He had always expected his greatest defeat would have come from the mountains. It had surprised him, coming this way. Sara had taken him to heights he had thought were impossible. He was just beginning to realize how great his loss really was.

      He was finely tired. He was tired of the poverty, the loneliness, tired of the towns, ski towns, fed up with the hustlers. He was tired of ski town dreamers and ski town schemers. Tired of the Senator, his Corporation, and the Senator’s obsession to own all of Summit County, right up to the Continental Divide.

     The sound of footfalls across the planks of the Covered Bridge captured his attention. A young couple arm and arm walked toward him. Her hair hung loosely from beneath her white ski hat.  It was flaming red, reminding him of Sara. Why? Why did he put on an act to impress her? Fool her by being something other than who he was. Why had he been compelled to drive this warm wonderful woman from his life?

     He walked down the narrow noisy Bridge Street and toward the middle of the Village. In the lit window of a local shop, he stopped to look at a pair of expensive hand-tooled riding boots that sat among the cut woolen sweaters. Sara’s voice drifted through the evening air.

      “You may know everything there is to know about mountains, Thomas Dillon. When it comes to women, you’re such a big jerk! Every time the least little thing happens in your life, you run away to another mountain. When are you going to realize that you are just running away from yourself? You’ve got to quit drinking, you’ve got to stand for something in life, and you can’t just drift!”

     Tom flipped up his collar to the cold and dampness and continued on toward Gold Peak and his friend’s townhome. Tom was good at walking away, a walk away Joe. He stood quietly in front of the door. It was beginning to snow and it was late. He had nowhere else to go and no one else to see. He reached up and grasped the large brass ring around the lion’s head that rested against the plate, bringing it down hard three times, he listened. The sound of footsteps came to him from behind the door. It opened slightly.           

     “Who is it?” a soft feminine voice asked. 

     “Dawna, it’s me, Tom.”

     “Tom, Tom, come in!”

     The door opened widely and a slim graceful woman appeared. She had long blonde hair that spiraled into ringlets to her shoulders. She grasped him firmly by the hand and led him through the doorway.

     “How have you been? Where have you been? What exactly have you been up to? I want to know everything, let me wake John.” She disappeared around the corner.

     Tom collapsed into a chair. A large black box sat on an end table between a sofa and a chair. A purple neon light rose out of it, it soothed him. A crystal heart, along with a pyramid spire sat beside the light. It refracted through the crystal creating an eerie array of colors dancing on the wall. Across the room above a tan stone fireplace sat a hand hewn oak mantle. On the left of the mantle, a red and yellow clay pot held a large leafy elephant plant. A spider plant dangled over the edge to the right. A large wooden framed picture in the center caught Tom’s attention. He stood slowly, stretched, and walked to the picture. A blue suited skier was crouching extremely low, before a steep vertical among some jagged rocks. He examined it closely.

     “First Nordic Ski Descent, Grand Teton, Rick Wyatt.”

     Tom smiled to himself, leave it to John. John was the diehard of the crowd. He and Dawna were the last of the holdouts among their friends. John had been on the circuit longer than Tom. He had been to Big Sky and Bridger Bowl in Montana. John had even wintered in Alta, Utah. He had taken Tom to Honeycomb Canyon at Solitude and the Merry Chutes on Mount Millicent at Brighton in Big Cottonwood Canyon last year.

     “Tom, how the hell are you? You look great. You must be skiing a lot.”

     “Every day John, every day.”

     Tom faced his friend. John had a thick red beard, with a long light red and blond mustache. His hairline had receded since Tom had seen him last, leaving a tanned forehead and tell tale raccoon tanned eyes. John stood several inches taller than Tom.

     “I’m glad to hear you're skiing everyday.”

     “Yeah I wrangled a pass in exchange for some work in the Lodge at A-Basin, best ski season yet. I’m well over a hundred days this year.”

     “How have you really been?” Dawna asked.

     Tom shifted uncomfortably. “Things aren’t going well right now,” he stammered.

     “What’s up?”

     “I screwed up with Sara, you know me Dawna, every time things are going well. I seem to find a way to mess up badly.”

     “Are you drinking Tom?” Dawna looked concerned.

     “I acted foolishly, I-I wrote some terrible things to her.”

     “How bad?”

     “I can’t even remember John, I guess pretty bad,” Tom looked at the floor.    

     “Don’t worry a bit Tom, we'll fix you up with a ski bunny from Vail,” John said.

     “That’s just the thing John; We were really getting close. I’ve never felt this way before.”

     “’Have you tried telling her that Tom? Maybe she feels the same way about you? Dawna asked.

     “I remember John when we were first going out. He would go out of his way to do goofy things. I finally told him to grow up!”

     “It wasn’t like that, Dawna. I lost it. I wrote some dark things. There is nothing I can do to change things. I can’t undo what I’ve done.”

     “Maybe you can change the way you do things, Tom,” John said.

     “What do you mean, John?”

     “Tell you what Tom, I can get a four days pass. You can ski Vail. I’ll take you in the back bowls. It will get your energy flowing in the right direction. There’s nothing wrong with you that a few days skiing the deep won’t cure. Dawna enjoys telemark skiing, she’ll take you to Chicago Ridge at Ski Cooper, free your heel, free your mind,” he laughed loudly.

     “Ok, John, I’ll do it,” Tom said.

     “One more thing Tom, They have A.A. Meetings at the Vail Chapel. Dawna and I will go there with you. We think you need to talk to someone.”

     “I don’t know John.”

     “No hassle, the meetings are at noon. We’ll ski down at lunch and just pop in. No big deal. Tom it seems to me that every time you get your life in order, I mean when things are really going good, you get in big trouble and alcohol is usually involved.”

     “I know I would do anything not to have these problems.”

     “Sounds like a first step to me, it’s like committing to the mountain, Tom, and the first turn in a steep, gnarly chute is always the hardest. You know the rest of the saying.”

     “I know, I know, point em downhill and stand on them.”

    They all laughed heartily.

It's A Beautiful Day-Girl With No Eyes

157; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure, )Chapter XXIV; Tom's Sojourn

  

     It's always further than it looks. It's always taller than it looks. And it's always harder than it looks.  Reinhold Messner- The first man in History to climb all fourteen eight-thoudsanders without oxygen. My life at the Limit (Legends and Lore)

      The Colorado ranch houses flashed past Tom’s eyes in a colored blur as he gazed out the window. The golden sun burned brightly and dipped into the white fields. Across the expanse of the snowbound wooden wind -breaks the evening sky was illuminated by a full silver grey moon, the darkness stealing, silently, stubbornly over the northwestern peaks. He closed his eyes, his head resting wearily against the window in an effort to sleep. It was no use, his mind was spinning and reeling in an endless succession of feelings. He seemed to be in the middle of everyone’s problems, and full of his own insecurities.

     “Everyone wants a piece of something from me,” he lamented to himself. He tapped his boney fingers on the arm-rest. “I got nothing more to give.”

     He stared through his reflection in the tinted glass. It was starring back through him. He was watching his own thoughts as they formed in his mind and boiled to the surface.

     “If only I could see the whole picture, I might find the answer.”

With that thought, his Uncle’s words flooded to his thoughts. “Everyone has their own answers Tom, and you’ve got to search to find your own happiness.”

     Tom knew that until he found his, he would always be a lonely drifter. A rolling tumbleweed, always bouncing, always shifting, never stable. He took off his hat and laid it on the seat next to him. Running his fingers through his matted hair, he thought of Sara. He found that he was continually thinking of Sara. Tom had been wrong to say those awful things to her, things, he could never take back, she was the warmest loving person he had ever known. It seemed as if his own insecurities had driven him to go out of his way to alienate her. He feared he had lost her for good, and was dying inside without her. She had given him more than he ever knew that he wanted, never feeling that close to a woman before. In the short time they were together, they had become intimate lovers, and close friends. How easy it would be to give his life to her, what little he had to give…. he had just lost everything without her.

      The mountains were his life. How could he throw away the only true meaning he had ever found, the only serenity his heart had ever known? All his life he had risen above the everyday tedious routine. He had observed all the mediocrity all around him. Somewhere out beyond the, “work until you have enough to retire, world.” His grandparents had done that, and died before they had a chance to enjoy it. There was more than just jobs, more than just pensions, more than golf at the country club on the weekend. True freedom lies not in getting all you can, but in giving all you can away.

     He drifted o . ff into that half conscious world, the world between sleep and waking. Images floated in and out of his mind. Sara, Toby, Davis, Joe, The Senator, rose up into his thoughts, they haunted him as his own past did. He felt like he had deserted his own family, the real family that had deserted him so long ago. He never knew the true story because he was afraid to ask, afraid that it had been his fault.

     “Come on son, hey son, let’s go, it’s the end of the line,” the driver shook Tom. He took a breath and grabbed his hat and knapsack. He groggily made his way down the isle toward the front of the bus, thinking about his friends. Good friends, he never knew meant so much to him…… until now

The Tide Rushes In, The Moody Blues

156; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure;) Chapter XXIII; Tom Leaves

 

  Everyone seems to care so much about what I do, that I’m letting you know what my plans are. I caught the last Greyhound out of Frisco into Vail. I’m going to finish the season with some friends there. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Joe. All the Mother Hens that converge on me in Summit County are driving me crazy. I have my own life, and I can’t take everyone telling me how to live it. I wish you all the Luck with whatever you may find in the future. You have a really bad deal going, Joe, I tried all I know how to do. I hope our paths will someday cross again. Toby ‘Point em downhill and stand on em.’ Sara, you deserve better, I’ll write once I get myself sorted out. This is not the way I wanted any of it to turn out.

 

                                                                                                    Tom Dillion

 

     Joe set Tom’s letter down on his desk. Sipping at his mug of coffee, he missed Tom already. He felt he had failed somehow, if he only could have kept his mountain. He might have been able to teach the boy how to look at life differently, how to deal with his problems instead of running away, exactly as he had done when he was young. When you don’t like the way things are going, you pick up and head into the next mountain. Once you have done it, and are no longer afraid, you see how easy it really is. You leave them all behind. It’s what had drawn him to Arapahoe Basin in the first place, that and the Ski Patrol. He was the ultimate escapist. His wife of ten years had wanted a divorce because they were unable to have children, his parents were getting a divorce because they were never in love. The last thing he remembered was his sister saying to him,” They only stayed together for us. They were never in love. They got married because they were having you. He knew it to be true, he hated her for telling him. It seems she always made things worse than they actually were, kick him when he was down. He had run away, and never looked back. Now, he was paying the price, no one to turn to, no one to be there. You had better damn well be ready to pay the price when it comes due.

 

     “Joe?” Toby’s blonde head appeared around the corner of the door. “Have you seen Tom?”

     “He’s gone, he left. The kid can’t take the heat.” Joe held up the letter for Toby to read.

     “Damn,” Toby read through the note. He let his arm fall limply to his side.

     “I think it’s all my fault,” Toby confessed.

     “It’s nobody’s fault. He’s a runner. He always runs, never stays and deals with anything.”

 

     Joe leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across has chest, and stared out the window, at the massive mountainside.He rocked gently in his chair. Toby stood in silence and looked out into the distance with Joe. He didn’t want to loose Tom. He was his best friend. There are only a few people who become best friends. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, fighting back the tears. Tom had to come back. He just had too. He had too.

Om Mani Padme Hum, Deva Premal

155;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure;) Chapter XXII; The Olympic Training

 

 

Before you act, you have freedom, but after you act, the effect of that action will follow you whether you like it or not. That is the law of Karma. You are a free agent, but once you perform a certain act, you will reap the results of that act.

Paramahansa Yogananda, SRF Lessons

 

 

      Tom had spent the last three weeks on the mountain with Toby. He was helping him set up a training program. Giving him confidence and motivation to train harder, ever harder as the trials grew nearer. Toby’s heart was in the right place, he was lacking the timing and style. Running the courses had to be routine, repetition would lead to speed. Tom realized this and tried to motivate him to face his toughest challenges. The Olympics were not just another NASTAR Race. They were a series of steps, any of which, if you stumble, you’ve lost. No second chances, no excuses. After running the courses, they would run  trails on the Basin, a daunting challenge. Finishing up on the East Wall of Lenawee Mountain where there were no trails, only wide open endless powder turns.

 

     "The highest lift operated mountain in North America, a gold medal at the Olympics,” he’d yell over and over. He was trying to fill his heart and soul with the spirit of the mountain itself. He spoke of Joe and the years of hard work and toil he had put in to own the mountain, trying to make him see the results of dreams, grandiose dreams, dreams that can be if you have the desire to reach and grab for the rings.

     “They’re not going to just give you that medal, you have to earn it! Simply wanting it is not good enough. You have to desire it with every fiber of your being. It’s all you can focus on, nothing else can matter or exist. GOLDEN DREAMS! GOLDEN DREAMS! OLYMPIC GOLD!”

     Tom was relentless with Toby, but he knew Toby needed him. Now more than ever, the sheer spectacle of the rock spires looming high above the rest of the world, left them both in awe Toby needed the push, his skiing was getting really good. Tom knew he had a definite place and shot at the Olympics. All the effort and hard work was for him. Tom would talk of himself and his own reservations about life.

     “At least you know what you want,” he’d say. “You have a single vision, you can see it. TO BE THE BEST OF THE BEST! THE CRÈME De La CRÈME! No one can ever take that away from you. Don’t take it away from yourself! Hold on to your dreams, Tobe. It’s always just your dreams, hold on to them as if they were your child, your only child”

 

     The days were hard and long, the nights short and sleepless. Every waking hour he spent either skiing or discussing the various conditions. They spent days on the courses of Keystone, Copper and Breckenridge, covering all aspects of the different pitched slopes. The angle and texture of the snow the sun made on the downside of the moguls was extremely important. Where the shadows fell on the courses determined where the hidden ice would lay. A single slip would cost precious seconds. Vertical drop, base elevation, they all came into play. They found some hard pack groomed ice at Keystone down the road. Luckily the weather stayed dry and cold, Toby could spend more time running drilling on the hard pack cover.

 

       Tom enjoyed these days spent with Toby. They gave him a chance to get away from all the questions that had been stirring through his mind. The mountains themselves were the only stability left in Tom’s shifting world. No longer did Tom see things as “Black and White.” There were feelings in his heart, thoughts in his mind he had never had before. He was beginning to let other people in his heart and life. They were helping to shape his destiny. They were letting him into their worlds. He was finally beginning to grow up.

 

     The sharp white peaks thrusting up boldly around him were like old friends to him. He had spent countless days and years with nothing on his mind but their beauty and honesty. They were a timeless vision, always changing, yet always remaining the same. The mountains have always been and always will be. Tom felt lucky to be able to share a small part of their history.

    Toby was becoming increasingly irritable. He rarely said a word as Tom tried to push him harder to make every second count. Timing every run as if it was life or death. Tom yelled at each mistake, telling him if he wanted to claim gold, he would have to work harder. Toby reacted but was beginning to falter. He was angry and fed up with skiing, stopwatches and Tom.

     “Forget it!” Toby yelled, “I’m through for the day. I can’t take you riding me anymore.”

     “I simply said…”

     “I know what you said. You said it yesterday and you said it the day before. I’m sick of it Tom. I’m sick of it all.”

     “You can’t expect to…”

     “I don’t expect anything. I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore. You do nothing but criticize my every move. You’re a royal pain in the ass.”

     “I’m only doing it for you.”

     “You’re doing this because you love it. You love being in control. You’ve never had anything, and think you can take my dreams and make them your own.”

     “Bull crap! You’re pissed off because you can’t take the pressure. You’re a lazy whining, God damned baby.”

     “Piss Off Tom!”

     Toby whirled around and took off down the mountain, leaving Tom wondering what had just happened.

     “I can’t believe this, every time I turn around, I get kicked in the ass. Well no more.”

 

     He turned and started tucking down the headwall toward the Pallivacini, his speed increasing as he sped along the hanging cornice that had formed above the bowl. Not knowing what he was going to do next, first David, Then Sara and now Toby. Why couldn’t they take him for what he was, without asking for everything? He never took any more than he could give. Everyone had to have it their own way. All or nothing at all, wasn’t that the motto. No one is ever satisfied with what they have. He was disillusioned with it all.

     “I’ve got to get out of here,’ he said, feeling there was nothing left to fight for. At the last second he turned, and flew off the top of the cornice catching incredible air. Tom landed with his tips slightly crossed at break- neck speed. It caused him to go head over skis and begin tumbling down the steep slope. Every time he came up he feared he would break his neck on the next roll as he drove his head deep into the endless powder. On one of the upright rolls, Tom threw his weight to his left and landed on his shoulder. It drove it in to the snow and arrested his fall. His skis had not come off, and he stood shakily his knees weak his breath coming in spurts and gasps. He was utterly exhausted and weak, Tom thought of Joe’s struggle to keep the Basin and his friends and the confusion in his life. In utter exasperation, he cried out, ”Is their no justice in this world?” Almost immediately he heard an answer a voice that said, “Be a Teacher!” Confused, he looked around to see where the voice had come from. There was nothing but silence in the vast natural mountainous bowl. He dusted himself off and turned his skis downhill and pushed hard with his poles. Determined to see what his destiny was, now that he had cheated death. A half a century would pass before Tom would fully comprehend what the edict in the wilderness truly meant.

Gayatri Mantra, Deva Premal and Miten

154; Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure;) Chapter XXI; Sara and Tom

   Sara sat nervously tapping her nails on the end table. She was confused. Tom had called and told her he’d be a little late tonight. It had given her a chance to work out a few last minute questions she had about her relationship.

     “I could easily see spending the rest of my life with him,” she said to herself. “He’s everything I’ve always wanted in a man. If he could just learn to settle down, how can I love someone who might be here one minute and climbing and skiing the French Alps the next?”

 

     Reaching up, she pulled a few strands of her hair, noticing some split ends that would have to be trimmed. Crossing her legs, she shifted her weight on the couch and glanced at the clock. He’s not the kind that likes demands made on him. She knew that but she just had to voice them. She wasn’t getting any younger and wanted desperately to know where her life was going to go.

 

     A family had always been her only dream. Two, maybe three children, and a nine to five husband, picnics on weekends, It really wasn’t too much to ask. Maybe Tom wants that also, maybe he just was never in love enough before to commit himself. They had many intimate late night talks about their feelings for each other, and had discussed their past failures. They understood each other’s desires and needs. Their basic personalities were perfect. Not once had a conflict arisen that wasn’t resolved equitably between them. Their love making was more than she had ever hoped for. He was a lover that was gentle, a man, but still her little boy. She could be herself holding nothing back, not hiding even the smallest fantasy from him. The night she cried in his arms, she knew she loved him. Sara needed all of him.

 

     “Sara,” she heard him call as he tapped lightly on her door. She went to the door and opened it.

     “Hi baby,” he smiled, “Sorry I’m late.”

     “Hi, “ she walked to Tom and gave him a hug.

We had a big meeting at the Basin. Joe sold the mountain and he finally broke the news to everyone.,” he sighed looking deeply in her eyes.

     “No!,” Sara stepped back., the smile disappearing from her face.

     “Can you believe it? Everything he has worked so hard for is gone. Shuffled across someone’s desk like it was no more than the paper it was printed on.”

 Sara could feel Tom’s bitter disappointment, and she tightly held him in her arms.

     “I feel just like I did when my parents got divorced. The finality of family, separating, the same pain and utter disappointment.”

     “Everyone was family up there,” she knew all of them and how very close they were.

     “The thing that’s tough on me is how casual Joe is about it. He’s just letting it go. Everyone feels betrayed.”

     “Well, he’s naturally the one you are going to blame. I think that when the news settles in, you’ll realize he’s the same man as before. Think of how much he loves the mountain. He gave you the gift of it. I feel it in your heart.”

     “Yeah, I guess you're right. It’s just awfully hard,” he leaned over and gave her a small affectionate kiss. “Thanks babe.”

     “For what?”

     “Just for being there.”

 

     They were deeply in love. When they were together, there was no one else around, no Basin, no problems. No problems except for the one that Sara knew she had to raise tonight. They had reservations at their favorite restaurant tonight, the “Old Dillon Inn.” Tacos, Enchiladas, Tortillas and Dos Equis beer were the house specialties. Tom was not a big eater, but when he did, it was in his style. He loved to cook when he had the time. Sara was overjoyed when he surprised her with a five- course dinner. It had been complete with candles and wine for their first date.

 

     The conversation was light as they made their way across the small town. Tom was driving Sara’s vintage 69 Volkswagen Beetle. He was thinking about Joe’s empty future and felt the same for himself. Sara was seeing a future full of Tom and all her dreams. She was hoping it was true. They pulled into the parking lot to find it was full.

     “Look at this place,” Tyler inched the bug in. “I wouldn’t mind owning a place like this myself.”

     “We could make a fortune,” Sara attempted to spur the conversation on.

     “We’d need a lot of capital up front,” Tom reached for her hand. They walked toward the front door.

     “I’ve got some money saved,” she offered, “maybe we could find some investors. What about Joe? He’ll have a lot after the Basin is gone.”

     Tom fell silent. Sara knew she had said the wrong thing. She immediately changed the subject.

     ‘You could run the kitchen. I’ll handle the bar. Maybe we'll find a place for Jilly.”

     “They laughed as Tom opened the door for her. The restaurant was full, he gave their names to the hostess and they made their way to the bar.

     “At least twenty minutes,” Tom said as he handed Sara a Molson Gold.

     “That’s perfect, the anticipation will raise our pleasure even more.” She gave him a wink knowing he had caught her analogy.

     “Tom would you marry me?” she suddenly said, half hoping he would take her seriously.

 He was silent for a moment.

     “You’re supposed to get down on your knees when you ask that question.”

 She was beginning to enjoy the game so she went on.

     “Please, I love you. We could buy a house and make lots of babies,” she smiled hopefully.

     “And live happily ever after,” he added, not sure that she was kidding anymore.

     “ You’re serious aren’t you?”

When she didn’t reply and looked away he knew she was.

     “Sara,” he said, shaking his head, “Look at me.”

She looked into his eyes.

     “I have nothing to give you. All I own are my mountain memories and the clothes in my backpack, that’s no way to start a life.”

Sara looked down at the floor feeling lost like she was the only one in the room.

     “Don’t lose this one Sara Lyn,” a voice in her head said. “I really love you Tom, anybody else would be second best. I’m not asking for the world Tom, just you.”

 He looked over at the bottles lined up behind the bar searching for an answer. This was all so sudden but he knew it was right.  Never having felt this way about anyone, but marriage, children, a house in the country, those things were not in his plan.

     “I’m just not ready Sara,” he said finally, “you don’t know how hard this is.”

     “I do know how hard this is. Now you look at me, Tom Dillon!“ she snapped with real determination in her voice. “I know you Tom. I know the kind of man you are. No past, no future, just the here and now. That’s fine if it’s what you want out of life. I’m involved and I love you deeply, but I cannot live your life. I’m offering a life with you because I know it’s right.  You do also. I can’t live my life not knowing what will be.”

He felt helpless and reached to take her hand. She pulled away looking around at the other couples having their conversations, wondering if any of them felt as miserable as she did.

     “I’m sorry baby,” he looked at her. He was looking for a sign that she might be softening. She was distant and he felt like he didn’t even know her.

     “Dillon, table for two, Dillon,” the voice over the intercom cracked.

     “I’m not very hungry Tom. I have to go.”

She finished her beer and slid it across the bar.

     “I need my keys,” she held out her hand.

He gave them to her and she turned without a word. He watched her as she made her way through the crowd and out the door. He gestured to the bartender for another beer. Tom felt old for the very first time in his life.

Bhajelo-ji Hanuman, Krishna Das Music, Greatest Hits of the Kali Yuga