Torn

27 July 1994

 

  

He liked the feel of the rock under him, this boulder, his boulder, and as he sat, he could hear the wind making its way from tree top to tree top down the mountain behind him, like some wave headed toward him to wash him clean and he liked it too. He liked it here alone.

For a moment, he did not think why he was here or what he should be doing or what should happen next and he liked the feeling and he laid his back against the sun warmed boulder and looked up at the sky. The stars were beginning to come out and he thought of that night so long ago when he had became best friends with Scott and how they had laid out in the snow and cold on their sleds and talked quiet, slow talk, for hours about the stars so very far away.

On the mountain above him an owl hooted, and the sound, mixed with the wind, was lonesome and for a moment he missed her and the children, and the thought made him move and he sat up. Looking at the valley beyond, he quickly forgot her as the lights of a town began to come on and he watched as an octopus with tentacles of light reached out into the now darkening countryside and he was torn, torn between the sky and the town, between some silent mystery he could not name and his own kind and torn between being alone on the mountain and her and the kids and all that was back there.

He laid back again on his rock and closed his eyes and at once he was walking along the ocean in his mind. On one side was the ocean and the sky and on the other side, his family, other families and all that he and mankind had achieved and again he felt torn between the two and it seemed to him that although he preferred the sea and the sky and being alone, he had been told and taught that he should prefer his own kind. Her.

Torn. He always seemed torn and he wished he wasn't and he again sat up and looked out on the valley below. Why had he come here? Why had he bolted from her and driven to this mountain and again feeling the boulder under him, he realized he could not remember how he had come to this spot and if it mattered or not and he felt his soul give way and become quiet. He was just here. He just was and he liked it.