Fresh Mountain Start

10

Morning.

Breakfast was served.

Kisses were exchanged.

Gary took the car, pulled out of the drive, and headed off.

John packed a bag. Sandwiches, water, and a flask of tea with milk.

He walked to the boundary of the property, to the little wall, and looked left down the road into the village. Out in the distance he could see the first puffs of smoke rising from the factory, and the village. The morning light hadn't quite reached it yet, shadowed by the mountain opposite. White teeth grinned out at him from between the trees.

He turned, and started walking up the road to the right into the mountains.

The path alongside the road was uneven, full of the dead branches and roots and rocks and bushes and small growths that are common of places nature threatens to reclaim, and he walked carefully, slowly, winding his way up the mountain. The roads bent. The roads twisted. Short curves led on to long stretches that seemed to go on forever, steadily inclining, each step becoming that little bit more laborious than the last, each breath becoming that little bit more difficult than the last, until he decided that he no longer needed to be burdened with his coat, that he had worked up enough of a sweat to stay warm. He took it off. Wrapped it up. Stuffed it into his backpack, and continued to climb.

At the third bend in the road, he found one of the houses that the postman had spoken of. Another wooden cabin, just like theirs. The glass in the window panes was gone, and creeping plants had followed their nature, threatening to swallow the building whole. Bright eyes stared out at him from inside the building, smiling. He continued past, and at the fifth bend in the road found another house in a similar state of disrepair.

At the next bend, however, he stopped to wave at the neighbours as they pulled out of their driveway. He thought that they might continue on, but they stopped and wound the window down.

'Can we help at all?' the woman asked.

'No, no,' John said. 'I've just moved in down the mountain, and the postman said there was a resort or something up here, so I thought I'd walk up and try and find it.'

'Oh, the resort,' the woman said.

'I told you I'd heard that we had new neighbours,' the man said from the passenger seat. 'We're Brad and Janet.'

'John.'

'The postman's a lovely kid,' Janet said. 'Further up you've got Frank and Tony, and then just before you hit the tunnel you've got Marge and Eddy-'

'You're down in that first house, aren't you?' Brad asked. 'We'd actually thought of buying that, to be a little closer to the village, but it looked like a lot of work-'

'Oh yeah,' Janet said. 'Well, you keep going up the road, and you'll hit the tunnel-'

'And the people down in the village, well...'

'Brad, now, enough of that. Through the tunnel, you'll be able to walk down in maybe thirty minutes.'

'If you're going down,' Brad said, 'You must stop in the coffee shop just at the head of main street. It's to die for, as they say.'

'Oh yes. And you must stop by when we're back and tell us how you and your wife are-'

'My husband,' John corrected.

'Even better. You must tell us how you're getting on.'

'We'd better get going,' Brad said to Janet.

'Yes, you're right,' Janet answered. 'And you don't have a car, John? Are you sure you don't want a lift? Public transport around here is terrible.'

'No, no,' John said. 'The walk will do me good.'

'Well, you make sure to stop by. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll call Tony and we'll all get together and have a little lunch, alright?'

'I- sure, yes,' John said.

'Splendid,' Janet answered. 'Now. Straight on, you can't miss it. Careful, the last stretch of road up to the tunnel is quite steep along the sides. Nice to meet you, John.'

'Yeah nice to meet you!'

'Likewise,' John said.

Brad shouted something else, but John didn't quite hear it. He watched the car as it disappeared in the distance, and then continued up the mountain.