The Swailing

The Rockies: Seduction

I can't believe how beautiful the mountains are. The mountains in Optima, at least where I live, are low and scrubby, more like hills than these rocky, majestic things. I can't take my eyes off them as we drive into their arms.

By the time we get to Finn's friend's apartment, I'm not sure I'll ever want to leave this place. It is absolutely mesmerizing. To think that this is merely a day's drive from my house ... I wonder what other wonders the former United States holds for me. Optima is beautiful – sunny and bordered by an endless expanse of bright blue ocean. But it's always the same. It never changes. The trees here in the mountains are mostly bare, but Finn says that a month ago, the leaves were bright orange, yellow, red, and a few weeks before that they were green. I learned all about photosynthesis and the science behind it in school, but I've never really seen a tree change colors before. It sounds like magic – almost too strange to believe.

Finn's friend Aspen – a woman, which I guess I hadn't expected – welcomes us warmly into her apartment. She reminds me a little of my friends from home – pretty and fit and her hair is a striking but seemingly natural deep copper color. Her clothes are not too much different than mine. I think the only things that give her away as from the Rockies is that her skin is golden, like Finn's, and there is something different about the way she talks. There is a subtle looseness to her vowels, a gentle charming twang. She tells me that she works as a ski instructor during the winter season, but that the snow is late coming this year so she is waitressing and doing other small jobs until ski season opens for real. She tells me that she met Finn a year ago when he worked at the same resort teaching skiing classes to young children.

"You know how to ski?" I ask Finn, surprised.

Finn nods.

I still haven't asked him where he is from originally and now I wonder if maybe he is from the Rockies. But he seems to know a little bit about everywhere, so who knows? I don't know why I'm hesitant to ask him about himself. He doesn't offer much up and I guess I don't want to seem nosy. Though I am. I'm barely managing to contain all my questions for him.

While we talk I notice that Aspen rubs Finn's back familiarly. I stare at her hand as it smooths the fabric of his shirt.

"Finn's great on the slopes," Aspen says with a knowing tone. I'm not sure exactly what she means, but the way she says it in that mischievous and suggestive tone makes me think she's not really talking about skiing.

When Aspen sees my pitiful lightweight coat, she shakes her head in disbelief.

"That's a summer jacket around here. You wouldn't make it past September in that coat."

It is mid-November, now, and I understand why Finn had warned me about colder weather. Each minute the sun sinks in the sky, the temperature seems to plummet as well.

Aspen pulls a puffy purple coat out of her closet and gives it to me.

"It's not the latest fashion, but it'll keep you warm." I try to resist, but Aspen won't take no for an answer. "I have three more like it. Don't worry about it."

Three more coats? I can't get used to the idea of how much people seem to amass in other territories. And, frankly, I don't even know what is fashionable. I grew up wearing my clothes until they wore out or I outgrew them. I have never gotten rid of something simply because it has gone out of style. I'm not even sure we have "style" in Optima.

But when I try on the coat I decide that I have never felt anything so warm. I don't want to take it off and announce that I just might sleep in it. Aspen calls me "cute" and winks at Finn. I'm not sure that "cute" is meant to be a compliment in this case.