Instruments of Redemption

Thaw

The sound of twigs snapping woke me up. I pressed my lips shut and cautiously pulled my rifle to my chest. My eyes furiously scanned the trees. Nothing. I glanced behind me. The field was empty. I waited a couple more seconds before my lungs released a hot stream of air. A cool cloud of vapor drifted into the cool morning. I watched it rise and weave into a cluster of branches from a sycamore hanging above me.
My joints were frozen and it took a moment to thaw out. I rubbed my numb fingers against my knees and, after a moment, I felt ready to move. I reached back and gripped onto the wire of the fence I'd been resting against. It was painfully cold, but it helped me pull myself up. I took an extra moment to shake my limbs before repositioning my rifle over my shoulder. Then I surveyed the barren forest ahead.
The tips of grass were painted in white frost. Bark on trees glittered. The sun still sat behind the mountains in the distance. In moments it would shine on the valley and thaw the rest of the world. By my estimate, the foot of the mountain was still a day's walk. I tightened my cap and started forward.
Along the way I spotted a pair of squirrels racing throughout the forest floor. My stomach tightened, reminding me I hadn't eaten in days. I stopped walking and took aim. The squirrels jumped onto a tree and remained still. I put the fattest one in my sights. His furry tail wagged. I cocked the hammer back. He looked down at his companion, who sat lower on the tree. I exhaled. He jumped. I fired.
Buckshot ripped into the bark. Bits of wood sprayed from the tree. I lowered my gun to gain a better view. The squirrel was standing on his hind feet, holding an acorn.
I unloaded and shoved a fresh bullet into the barrel. Then I snapped the gun shut and pulled the hammer back for a second try. The squirrel didn't move as I took aim. He was busy studying his treasure.
"We're all just looking for something to eat," came a deep voice behind me. I spun around with my gun still aimed.
My sights latched onto an elderly gentleman, standing just a few feet away. He wore a red flannel, gray coat, and tall rubber boots. In one hand he held a bundle of fish dripping water. In the other he held a thick hunting knife.
"Who are you?" I asked, not lowering my gun. The man nodded at the barrel as he sheathed his knife. He had intelligent green eyes and a face full of veins and wrinkles. Curling off his chin was an unkempt white beard.
"Hungry?" he asked, holding up the fish. My stomach growled. He raised his eyebrows.
"I could eat," I sighed, lowering the gun.

                                           XXX

The man said little as we collected sticks and prepared a fire. When the time came to light it, he asked for one of my bullets. I handed him a spare from my pocket and he set out removing the back.
Once the metal was detached, he dumped the gunpowder onto the twigs in the center. Then he pulled two rocks from his pocket and used them to create a spark. We had a crackling fire in seconds.
I helped him prepare the fish. Once they were done he handed me two of the four. Together we roasted one for each of us. Neither of us spoke. The sun still hadn't made it over the mountain. I wondered if it would ever rise.
When the fish were cooked we dug in. The man took small, delicate bites. He chewed slowly and took his time swallowing. I wasn't as mindful. I took big bites and gulped down as much as I could. When I finished my second the old man was still working on his first.
"Thanks," I said, moving to leave.
"Going so soon?" he asked.
"I'm in a hurry." I stood and balanced my rifle on my shoulder again.
"Where are you off to?"
"The other side of that mountain," I pointed. He smiled and looked up at me. His eyes were curious. No. They were sympathetic. Why?
"What?" I asked.
"You won't find it."
"Find what?"
"What you're looking for." He gestured at the mountain. "It's not on the other side."
"Who says?"
"I do."
"Well, no offense, but you have no idea what you're talking about," I chuckled.
"Okay." He frowned and turned back to his fish. I looked longingly at the mountain. I'd reach the foot if I started moving immediately. But curiosity got the better of me. I let out a deep sigh before sitting back down.
"Explain."
"Explain what?"
"How do you know what I'm looking for?"
"You think you're the first person to try scaling that mountain?" he pointed.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Probably not."
"Many have. They all searched for the same thing. But none of them found it."
"How do you know? Have you ever been to the other side?" I scoffed. The man took another bite and took his time swallowing before speaking again.
"A few times."
"Really?" I asked, shifting closer. My interest was officially piqued. "What's it like?"
"Nothing special," he frowned.
"How so? Describe it."
"Well... imagine everything you've ever wanted. Think of a world of true perfection. Filled with everything you could dream of and more."
"I'm imagining," I smiled. Every waking moment I've dreamed of it. The thoughts kept me awake deep into the night. The idea of attaining it made me get up early everyday too. I wanted it more than anything.
"Then what?" he asked, turning to me.
"What... what do you mean?"
"I mean: then what? What happens when you have it?"
"I... I'd be happy. I'd have everything I could ever ask for."
"Is that so?" he laughed.
"Yes," I said with certainty. The old man sighed and set down his fish. He put his hands over the dying flame. What did he mean 'then what'? Is that supposed to deter me? Stop me from pursuing my dream?
"No," he said suddenly.
"What?"
"You're wondering if I'm trying to deter you. That couldn't be further from the truth." His eyes turned to me and in them, I saw something. Not intelligence, curiosity, or sympathy. I saw something else. Yes. My dream. Not just my dream but... I had it. I'd finally attained it. But I wasn't jumping up and down with joy. No. I looked... depressed.
"How-How—" I stuttered. The man blinked and the vision was gone.
"If it's your wish to climb a mountain, do it. If it's your wish to find what you're looking for, find it. But happiness... well, you won't find that in either."
"How would you know?" I asked defensively.
"Is the squirrel happier to have found an acorn, or to still be living?"
"So I'm just supposed to be alive?"
"I said living. There's a big difference between being alive and living."
I frowned and looked back at the mountain. The first rays of sunlight were starting to break over the peaks. It would be warm soon. The forest would come back to life. More animals would dare to venture into the open. Birds would begin to sing. The frost would melt away. The world would thaw. I turned back to the man who'd finally started on his second fish.
"Know any good jokes?" I asked.
"A few," he grinned.
Sometime later, when the laughs crescendoed, the fat squirrel decided to join us.