get back here and see his house and hike the mountain.”
“Well Sam, that’s one fine reason to be going up this mountain. I’ll wager your granddaddy was a fine man.”
“Yeah he was. I miss him.”
“And you been thinking I’m just some old crank trying to scare you for no good reason, right?”
“Maybe a little,” Sam admitted. Behind him the sun was rising hight in the sky; it was heading for noon now and he was anxious to be off.
“Listen, I don’t go high up on the mountain very much anymore. Getting too old. But I know it like the palm of my hand. It can be a queer place. So just one more thing before you go. Do you know what those jeans of yours are made of?”
Sam looked down, puzzled by this sudden change of subject. “Uh...denim I guess.”
“Yeah, well that’s just a fancy word for cotton. Cotton’s no good outside, Sam, especially when it gets wet; then it’s worse than nothing at all. You got yourself a fine coat and some good boots there; now buy yourself some good wool or water-proof pants if you’re planning on being outdoors a lot. Got a hat in that pack of yours?”
“No, I’m just going to be a few hours. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what they all say, Sam, when they get lost and are lucky enough to find their way back in. Or more likely when someone finds them and gets them home in one piece. You lose all your heat through your head, Sam, and that’s why I’m going to give you one of my hats. You can bring it back later and we’ll have a nip of whiskey together if you care to, and you can tell me about your day.” He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and smiled.
Sam felt himself instinctively pulling away for a moment but then the momentary touch suddenly felt infused with friendliness—almost affection —and Sam found himself smiling back into the weather-beaten eyes.
With Randle’s hat pulled over his head and around his ears, Sam finally started off along the path that disappeared into the trees behind the cabin. Randle watched him go with all the memories of his own years on the mountain flashing through his mind. He knew Sam would probably be fine. Almost everyone, even those who didn’t really belong in the mountains, usually made their way back out safely. It was just those few...those few you read about...they stick in your memory.
As it turned out, Sam would not see the summit that day, nor would he have any whiskey with Randle Marsh. Instead he would be carried out ignominiously by the Boudine sisters who found him late in the afternoon trying to crawl down the mountain with his broken ankle trailing behind him.
Perhaps, as long as Randle was going to regale Sam with warnings and advice, he should have mentioned one other thing—the ancient rock outcroppings that are everywhere on the flanks of the Taconics. These have been exposed for ages to the forces of erosion, and one effect of this erosion is that the rocks eventually split apart, creating small crevasses. Over time, falling leaves and twigs fill up these spaces, making them appear to be solid ground. And right after the autumn leaves fall, these cracks can be particularly well hidden. Sure enough, Sam fell prey to this hazard as he strode along with increasing confidence and decreasing caution toward the top of the mountain. There was the unexpected plunge of his right foot, followed by a sickening cracking sound, leaving Sam and his broken ankle at the mercy of the mountain and whatever the weather and eventual darkness would bring. With fear gripping him, and the icy shock-induced sweat breaking out all over his body, Sam was able to do little but gingerly pull his leg out and begin a snail-paced crawl back down, stopping at intervals to call for help.
When the Boudine sisters found him, they worked quickly. Ariel fashioned a litter from fallen branches lashed together with thin roots she cut out expertly from a nearby grove of spruce trees. Tara started a small fire and brewed a concoction composed mostly of the roots of valerian, a wild plant that is the herbal precursor of the synthetic and similarly-named drug, Valium, prescribed these days for our wired-up and stressed-out lives.
Tara’s tea was so strong that Sam soon fell into a profound sleep, and this proved fortunate because it was hardly a smooth trip down the mountain. There were some places where the sisters had no choice but to let the litter drag and slither down the steep pitches like a sled. Once he even rolled off the litter and fetched up against an oak tree. Sam reacted not at all.
The recorded statement of Emma Bailey, Cedar Falls Librarian, as told to Sheriff Ron Bosley, concerning the incident involving Mr. Samuel Witherspoon, October l9th-4:30 p.m.
At first I thought the poor devil was dead when those sisters, or whoever they are, came in and plopped him right down on my main reading table. As if that weren’t gruesome enough, then one of the sisters takes my Websters Unabridged Dictionary-—they run about a hundred and fifty dollars you know—and they prop his feet up on it and put his coat under his head for a pillow. Now you know, Ron, that I don’t have the strongest heart and it was flip-flopping like a toad inside my chest to where I couldn’t even catch my breath to say anything at first. But then I see the sisters are just going to leave me with this mess and so I finally managed to shout at them, “Is he dead or what, for lands sake?” The one with the dark hair says no but they think his ankle is broken and I should call a doctor. So then I ask why is he lying there unconscious and pale as death if he’s only got a broken ankle and she says they tranquilized him. God knows with what. Folks say those women make all kinds of foul potions up on that mountain which is probably half the reason they are as they are in the first place, though I suppose it’s not my place to be judging others So, anyway, then they’re gone like phantoms before I can get another word in, and I’m left holding the bag. I rushed over to the telephone and at the very same time the fellow on the table starts moaning and groaning which, let me tell you Ron, is giving me the unholy creeps. Then while I’m trying to dial the phone, he suddenly sits up like he’s got a spring inside him and vomits all over his pants and his shoes and my Websters Unabridged Dictionary, which by the way costs around a hundred and fifty dollars...or did I already say that? I’m an old woman, Ron, I did the best I could.
As for Sam, he got over it and didn’t even mind telling the story in its entirety after time and distance had blunted his embarrassment. He finished college, took a job as a civil engineer and married a green-eyed beauty from Vermont. They bought a house on Chesapeake Bay and when the winter storms would blow the water up into billowing whitecaps, he might feel just a touch of soreness or stiffness in his right ankle. When that happened he would go outside and watch the storm and think about the mountain and about the Boudine sisters and about his grandfather, whose picture he carried in his wallet. He always thought he would be going back to the mountain someday but he never did.
Sheriff Ron Bosley had not minded having to deal with Sam. His job often involved dealing with mishaps on the mountain or in the woods. At least once a year during hunting season, a hunter would get lost and the sheriff would have to spend the night cruising around the back roads blowing his horn or sounding his siren, hoping he could bring in the hunter that way. Otherwise he’d have to notify the State Troopers and deal with search parties and paperwork and frazzled relatives.
In fact these days, Ron Bosley didn’t mind dealing with anything and everything that blew his way because in truth, he wondered how long Cedar Falls could continue to afford its own full time sheriff. He knew he could always find another job; small town law enforcement didn’t pay diddly-squat and so there were always vacancies. Still, he was comfortable here and didn’t want to go anywhere else any time soon The only thing he didn’t like were the bar fights. There were more of them now that times were bad and more ornery men were out of work. What made matters worse was that there was only Tony’s Bar and Grill left in town where people could drink besides at the
