Song of the Red-Legged Birds: Chapter 42, Part 3: The old man fell
A showdown on Mount Washington
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Note: This is the second to last section of the novel. Next Friday we wrap it up. Thanks to everyone who has been along for the ride.
Bill
Last week, in chapter 42, Part 2, Chimera had a message for Takeda
Chapter 42, Part 3: The old man fell
An hour and a half later, the GTO crunched gravel under its fat tires in the Mount Washington Base Station parking lot. They spent a few minutes packing supplies and settling Triscuit into her new harness. The molded plastic carrying handle stood like a shark’s fin on her back. After protesting her restraints, she gave in with the bribe of a jerky treat. They threaded their way past parked cars and towards the trailhead, where a prominent sign faced would-be hikers.
AMMONOOSUC RAVINE TRAIL
LAKE OF THE CLOUDS HUT 3.1
MOUNT WASHINGTON 4.5
“Three point one miles? Carry me,” Takeda laughed.
“Come on, this isn’t that bad. Plus, don’t you bike all the time? Stop pretending you’re not in decent shape, that little belly isn’t fooling me. Tris is the one I’m worried about, but she’s looking good so far.”
Triscuit scampered ahead of them a few yards, fell over, and rolled downhill. She got up, checked for witnesses, and continued up the path. They hiked without a word for half an hour. The breeze rustled tall pines that knocked against each other as if sending a warning to those on the ground.
Holly stopped by a rippling brook. Water crashed around mossy boulders that looked like remnants of sculptures by giants. “I haven’t heard that sound in so long; it always relaxes me.” She squatted down to splash the chilled mountain water on her face.
“I can see why. This is worlds away from screaming tweakers and midnight car alarms.” Takeda said.
“Want to stop up ahead and eat? It’ll give us a chance to let Tris rest a little before the incline gets treacherous, and I’m starving.”
“Sounds good, H.”
The trail flattened out and crossed over a brook, past a small pool fed by a waterfall. They dropped their packs and dug out the sandwiches Diane made. Takeda found a container filled with beef stew labeled ‘Triscuit.’ The bulldog wandered to a large boulder and scrambled to the top. It brought her to almost eye level with him. Her tail thumped against the rock with delight, and she licked his face.
“I had no idea she was the least bit agile,” Holly said, with a hand on her hip.
Takeda set the bowl on top of the rock, and Triscuit slurped her lunch like she’d never eaten. “She has her moments. City life softened her. I mean, I softened her. You can’t blame a dog.”
Sun broke through the clouds, warming them as they ate. A few hikers passed by, giving a friendly wave before negotiating their way across the pool on slick, exposed stones.
“This is nice. Let’s stay here forever.” Takeda leaned back and closed his eyes.
“What do you think we’ll find in the log book? Answers or just another piece of the puzzle?” Holly said, wiping crumbs from her cheek.
A branch snapped behind them. “Yes, what did you think you’d find?”
They turned to see a tall, lanky man with a deep tan grinning at them. He had a Hawaiian shirt underneath a jacket with the price tag hanging off the zipper.
“Maybe the mysteries of the universe, eh, Christo?” A shorter man, dressed for a business meeting, said as he edged next to him.
Holly leaped to her feet, mouth open. “You! Motherfucker, I knew it! No normal person wears tan pants!”
Triscuit growled, sloshing her stew to the ground.
Takeda stood and took a step in front of Holly.
Oliver Dean walked forward and pulled a gun with a silencer from his blazer pocket. “There’s nothing wrong with tan pants; I happen to have a closet full of them. There is something wrong with wasting my time.”
“Hey hey, whoa whoa whoa… take it easy, man.” Takeda shuffled backward in front of Holly. “What do you want from us?”
“That’s exactly what I want. Single file, so this will only take one shot.”
Oliver raised the gun at them in a confident swoop.
“Nooo!” Takeda yelled and put up a hand.
“Stop!” Holly screamed.
Triscuit jumped from the rock, snarling at the assassin.
Gunfire echoed across the mountain.
Triscuit was launched backward, howling from the impact. She hit the dirt and rolled into Takeda, who collapsed into Holly.
“Tak!” Holly shrieked.
Takeda clutched his chest, rasping tiny diminishing breaths.
Triscuit lay on her side, motionless except for rapid panting.
“Tak! Tak! Nooo! Breathe!” Holly screamed, clutching his face. His eyes rolled back.
“Almost three for one. I should win a prize, “Oliver said as he stepped forward, leveling the weapon at Holly. His tasseled loafers squished into the spilled stew.
She glared at him, defiant over the barrel, “Fuck you, you piece of shit!”
Takeda’s eyes widened–he looked up and rasped, “H… get... down!”
“Wha?” She ducked and looked up. The sky darkened like midnight black paint filling a mold. Deafening groans and cracks ripped the air, and Oliver looked up in time to see the impossible. Towering maples, oaks, and pines leaned down from all sides with branches that enveloped and snatched him off the ground like a leaf caught in a vortex. The gun dropped, and the hitman howled as he was tossed from branch to branch, tree to tree, higher and higher, until he was silent and gone.
Christo stood frozen underneath a rain of needles and leaves.
He and Holly scrambled to get the gun at the same time.
A crimson mouth creaked open on the nearest tree, like the sound of awakened gods. Christo turned to face the gaping chasm, his jaw slack, and eyes unblinking. A rustling from a depth that defied logic grew in intensity until he slammed his hands over his ears, fingernails digging into flesh. Pitch-colored birds with red feet erupted in a tornado from the tree’s gaping maw. They encircled Christo, claws and beaks scraping and slashing, lifting him off the ground in an airborne cocoon and rushing him to the treetops before he could scream.
The trees, satisfied, groaned and snapped back into place in an instant, leaving the waterfall as the only sound. A shredded Hawaiian shirt floated down from above, catching on a branch just overhead.
Takeda coughed and grabbed at his chest. “Are you... okay, H?”
“The fuck! Are you? You’re not dead!” she pulled his coat open, and the shattered remains of his cell phone fell out like gravel. “Holy shit!”
Triscuit grumbled.
“Tris!” they yelled in unison.
Triscuit ambled her way towards them, wobbly, dragging the remains of her hiking harness. Pieces of the shattered handle covered the ground. Takeda sat up and scrutinized her as the dog licked a cut on Holly’s face.
“A little scrape on her leg here, but that seems to be it. You’re a superhero, girl!” He squeezed the dog, her tail twirled in the air.
He inspected Holly’s cheek. “I think a piece of the handle got you, a little cut. You’re going to be okay, Scully.” He laughed weakly and clutched at his side. “Ow, ow ow. I think I bruised a rib.”
Shock began to settle into both of them. Holly grabbed him with both arms, and they lay entwined on the ground, Triscuit sitting by their side. The remains of lunch, their gear, and the shattered handle sprinkled underneath a layer of fresh leaves and snapped branches.
After a while, they gathered up the remains of their gear, including the gun. Holly sent her mother a text message to check-in. Diane said they were all doing fine and about to sit down to lunch. They debated telling her what had happened as they hiked. It was too late when they finally decided to call Scott and ask him not to worry Diane with the details. Network connectivity was lost as they broke through the tree line.
“There it is, Lake of the Clouds Hut,” Holly said while drinking from her water bottle.
“It’s almost exactly like in my dream. Dream? Should I still call them that? Damn it!” He tripped over a stone but regained his footing before toppling over. Triscuit sprinted ahead to the front of the low-profile, weather-beaten structure.
“Getting tired? Tripping over your feet is a tell. Although, you did get shot today. I should cut you some slack.”
“New boots, it’s the boots, not the bullet. Wow, it’s stunning up here… and that’s the top, right? Where those antennae are?” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and pointed towards the summit.
“Yup, that’s it…” She stopped and stared.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying not to think about what happened back there… we should be dead, Tak. Dead. We don’t even know who that other guy was or how many people are trying to kill us. I’m not even going to start on the fact that trees are alive in a way that goes against everything I’ve ever learned about nature. Oh, and they saved our lives, again. “She threw up her hands towards the treeline.
“I’m trying not to think about it. Are we crazy? Most people would go home after surviving an attempted murder. We go for a hike… H, I’m kind of scared to find out what’s in the logbook. Could be nothing; could be everything.”
“Let’s find out.” She marched towards the building.
They found the hut relatively quiet inside. A few hikers were talking next to large windows at the front, which gave a view of the terrain into the valley and beyond. Sounds of workers preparing meals in the kitchen filled the air. They dropped their gear on picnic tables next to a bookcase filled with hardbound volumes. Triscuit found her way underneath the table and flopped.
“Would you like to do the honors?” he said.
“Your dream. See it through,” she said.
He ran his finger across the spines of volumes labeled by their year until stopping at 2003. Takeda slid the book out, and it resisted momentarily, stuck to its neighbors with age. He laid the tome on the table between them.
“What was that date again, when The Old Man fell?”
“May third, 2003.”
He eased the book open; the spine crackled and reluctantly gave way, freeing its pages. Takeda thumbed through them, muttering, “February… March… April… May…, the first, the second, the third…”
He ran a finger down the page past a few entries where hikers had recorded their names, then stopped on one, tapped his finger, and looked at Holly. “This has to be it.”
Takeda read the entry.
May 3, 2003
No one will ever believe this. The trees said we should leave a written record though. On the way down, we found these volumes, which seemed as good a place as any. For the last few weeks, Connor and I have been guided by them, the trees, and her, the girl who calls herself Chimera. That sounds like nonsense, so be it.
“There’s some words scratched out here.” Takeda paused, squinted at the page, and went on.
We were led here to the top of Mount Washington. It’s from the summit that we just came. I don’t really understand what happened up there. She said she was the Conduit for the Trees, and they ‘had a gift for our long-suffering world.’ She said they didn’t want to leave and didn’t want us to leave, but time was running out.’
Connor and I don’t know what that means, and Chimera didn’t explain. The three of us joined hands, and something, tough to describe happened. The best I can write down, quickly now, while it’s fresh in my mind, is that it was joy and love. We left our bodies and became one with everything, and it was beauty beyond my capacity to express.
“Here’s another part I can’t read. I guess they were trying to write what they saw but couldn’t.” He ran his finger over the text.
We’re going to be okay. Everyone will. That’s the thought imprinted in our minds.
Marie and Connor
Beneath that, someone had written, ‘What the hell does that mean?’ and drawn an arrow pointing at the text above. Several regular-looking entries followed it.
Neither of them spoke for a while. They reread the paragraph several times. Holly took a picture of it with her phone and tried to send it to Scott, but the signal was still too weak.
“This has always been bigger than us, hasn’t it?” She closed the book and left her hand atop it.
“Seems like it’s always been bigger than, everything.” He reached down to pat Triscuit.
Holly tapped on the book. “What I’m getting, is that the trees gave us The Event. That’s what their gift was.”
“That’s what it seems like to me, too,” he said.
Holly slid the book back into the empty slot on the shelf. “What do you think they want now? To give us something else?” She gasped. “Or, maybe to take something away!”
“What I want to know is why we’re involved. Why not someone else? Who were Connor and Maria?” Takeda said.
Holly stood up and pulled on her backpack. “I’m about ready to find out. You?”
“I’m scared, H.” He rubbed his forehead and looked up at her. “But, it’s time to finish this thing.” He stood and swung the backpack over his shoulder. “You know what?”
“What?”
“If, I mean, when, we get through this. I could make it a novel. You think a first-person account would be interesting?”
“Of course you’d think that. You’ll just have to decide if you want it to be fiction or nonfiction.”
Next week in Chapter 43, “Mostly apologies” Holly, Takeda, and Triscuit meet Chimera on the summit of Mount Washington.