by R E Swirsky
CHAPTER 40
Saturday 08:04 Heart Mountain, near Canmore, Alberta, Canada (the top of the mountain)
Lucy was the first to reach the Crux and her eyes immediately fell upon the small square marker pinned to the wall of stone.
The small arrow pointed up. Lucy ignored the marker and moved along the wall, ushering the others to follow. She knew the ragged path she continued along would lead to a dead end high around the side of the mountain, far from view of any hiker on the main trail to the top. Her first time up the mountain two years ago, she, like many others, had missed the marker and wandered for the next hour far off course, unable to find a means up to the top of the mountain.
The instructions from Slate had been very clear: take the Russian up the mountain to a place high and secluded.
“This is much better,” the Russian said, pleased to be walking almost horizontal again. His breathing was laboured and he paused to look ahead. The trail seemed to end at the cliff face. “Where are we to go now? Up there?”
It was the long scree slope that hugged the face of the mountain and rose up on the right side. The scree was steep and rose another four hundred feet, almost vertical it seemed, to an outcropping of rock further to the south.
“This is the way to the top,” Lucy replied. She paused next to the Russian and wondered how his fate had ended here.
“Keep walking,” Barney said.
He nudged Lucy. The Russian followed behind, breathing heavily with each step forward. They moved quickly along the trail until they reached the sloping scree. The rocks were sharp and of various sizes, from the size of her fist to that of a small refrigerator. All were loosely piled, having fallen from the cliffs above. The smaller rocks filled the cavities and gaps between the larger stones.
“You never did tell me what my father is guilty of.”
“Your father is guilty of many things. But that’s not the reason you are up here.”
Was he just playing it up for the Russian? She pressed him. “What things? He fights for the underdog.”
Barney laughed.
“I don’t understand you at all,” she said. “What did he do that was so bad?”
His grin hardened. “Just keep walking.”
She didn’t understand. She saw only good intentions in her father’s work. She would admit many of the outcomes of his cases were controversial, but he was arguing law, and it was up to the prosecution to prove guilt—not the other way around. His job was to see that those prosecuted received the best defence, and if the law allowed for loopholes and justifications to disregard evidence, then it was fair game.
The slope increased quickly and the stones shifted easily underfoot. It was easy to see that many hikers had come up this way by the many rocks that were now shifted and flattened, almost like steps up the slope by so many stray hikers. The loose, step-like trail was saddled close to the vertical face of the mountain, where the rocks were larger and more stable. Venture too far out from the cliff face and one wrong step could cause a shift in the tender balance, creating a giant wave of stones washing down and off the side of the mountain.
“Just tell me, please. He only did good things for people.”
Barney stopped and laughed. His foot shifted and a number of rocks tumbled down below them. “Good things? Good things for whom?”
“All sorts,” she replied.
Barney eyed the Russian. “Like you?” he asked. “Did her father do good things for you?”
He nodded quickly. “I think so. He was fair.”
Barney laughed again, but Lucy wasn’t laughing. She was annoyed. “See? He thinks my father was a good man,” she said.
Barney waved his arm, urging Lucy and the Russian to pick up the pace. “And do you think you are a good man, too?” he asked the Russian.
“I’ve had my bad days.”
“Bad days. That’s what you call them? Bad days?”
They were nearing the steeper part of the slope and it was difficult to talk and climb at the same time.
Another fifteen minutes of climbing on hands and knees near the crest brought the trio to a flat outcropping that was home to a few small trees that overlooked the valley below. On the left, the vertical wall of stone loomed above as it was still hundreds more feet up to the top.
Barney held Lucy’s cell phone out to her while pausing to catch his breath. “Let’s go,” he said. “You know the drill.”
Another faux pose was captured and the group was soon shuffling further along the cliff face. The small outcropping shrunk and the trail descended downwards, decreasing in width until it was nothing more than a small goat-sized trail hugging the side of the mountain before it rose back up in yet another scree slope that was steeper and stonier than the last. It narrowed to an even smaller chute as it crested the top of an even smaller ridge.
Lucy began to feel the effects of the climb and she made it a point to keep one hand gripped to any crack or outcropping in the wall at all times. Rocks tumbled below repeatedly as someone’s foot pushed out to the side, almost sinking in the loose stones, shovelling many loose rocks down the slope below. A few gnarly trees with roots embedded in the stone along the cliff edge helped to hold back many of the stones from cascading down over the side. Most of the crusty, grey-coloured branches were twisted and dried out, with only bits of green needles clinging to the ends. Some trees leaned out at impossible angles over the chasm below, as if hanging on in one final act of desperation to stave off their inevitable fate of falling into the valley over a thousand feet below.
“Here.” It was Barney again, hunched over this time as they all reached the safety of the next ridge. Lucy could see he was struggling as he remained hunched over and passed her the phone.
“I still want to know what it is my father did that was so bad.”
He wheezed slowly before speaking, and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Just take the picture,” he replied and slowly stood up straight. He motioned at her to move forward. “Over there. Near that tree,” he said.
The small ledge was covered in light grass where the stones didn’t poke through. One lone tree stood along the edge, leaning out precariously. The grassy edge was smooth and dipped out in a slow drop over the precipice. Lucy snatched the cell phone and shuffled over a few paces towards the tree.
“He never hurt anyone,” she said.
“But he did,” Barney countered. He looked at the Russian.
Lucy followed his gaze. “What? Him?”
“Yes, him.”
“My father never hurt him. He defended him and kept him from going to jail.”
The Russian gaped at Lucy. “I can’t do this anymore.…” He looked forlorn, lost, as if this climb had stolen his hope. He slumped back against the stone wall and covered his eyes with his hands.
“You cry now?” Barney asked.
“My father never hurt him,” she repeated.
The way Barney’s eyes reached into her own curdled her courage. She suddenly wished she hadn’t pressed him.
“It wasn’t this man your father hurt. Allowing him to go free caused so much hurt to others. Because of your father, this man continues to roam the streets of Ottawa and Montreal drinking and living without a care in the world. He received no punishment for murdering a young woman while driving drunk.”
“I can’t do this,” the Russian said. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on his heels, his shirt stuck up high on an outcropping. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, leaving small channel-like trails in the dirt on his face.
Lucy felt for the man. He must know what’s coming. Was this the reason he was driven up the mountainside to a place like this? “Can’t you just leave him,” she said. “Don’t.…”
“And because your father helped him stay out of prison, many more have now suffered.”
Lucy didn’t understand, and a puzzled look crossed her face.
“Yes. Another young woman and a baby.”
“Stop.…” The Russian man wept in
to his hands. “Please.…”
Barney continued. “And you want me to do what? Let him free so he can do it again and again? To get sotted and climb behind the wheel to take yet another life? He belongs behind bars.”
He moved up alongside her and pointed down the valley from where they had come. He took a deep breath and smiled grandly. “Just look at the view from up here. It’s like being on top of the world.”
She didn’t share in his enthusiasm. She was worried for the Russian. She wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, but she knew it was the farthest thing from the truth and could only stare at the now broken man as he dropped his hands and shook his head at her.
Further ahead, the trail dwindled out. Only fragments of a trail existed, and what was there seem to be swallowed up in the giant grey wall that still stretched hundreds of feet above and dropped in a slow outward arc over fifteen hundred feet down through the glacial-carved valley bottom below. This was the end of the trail.
“It’s time. Get up, you bum,” Barney said.
The Russian reached out to the wall behind him and slowly pushed himself up, pulling his shirt down in the process. His eyes remained downcast at his feet. “I can’t…I just can’t. Don’t make me do this. Please.…”
Lucy desperately wanted to reach out to him. How could her father have any part in this? It conflicted with everything she knew about him. She dropped her backpack, removed one of the water bottles and reached out towards the Russian.
“No,” he said pushing the bottle away. “No, I can’t…I won’t.” He looked up at her briefly and dropped his eyes again.
“We all know why we’re up here. It ends now,” Barney said. He turned to Lucy. “And you go take that picture like I asked.” He pointed to the tree near the edge again. “Go on.” He waved his hand. “Over there.”
She did as he asked, moving away from him further out towards the edge. The bottle of water was snatched away. “And I’ll take that. You won’t be needing it.”
Lucy stood next to the tree. The backdrop of the valley below completed the scene. She stood readying the cell-phone camera, finding it difficult to smile.
“Move!”
The Russian was yanked away from the wall and shoved towards Lucy. She was worried, expecting Barney to make his move on him at any moment.
“No,” the Russian mumbled weakly as he stumbled out.
“Yes. You know why you’re here.”
“No, please no,” he pleaded again.
Lucy stared at the two as if the climax was about to happen at any moment. She wanted to step forward to stop it, but she could think only about Michael again.
“Are you ready to take that damn picture or not? Let’s go!”
Lucy nodded and posed again with the cell phone held out at arm’s reach.
“Wait! Wait!” Both Lucy and the Russian turned as Barney waved at them with his hands above his head. “One second. This is the last photo we need up here so how about we do this right. I want you to make it a good one. A nice smile, like you mean it. Something special. For your father, Lucy. Give us a smile your father will remember forever.”
She nodded. But she hadn’t been thinking of her father as she snapped each photo on the climb up. It was always Michael. She worried for him, wondered what state he was in, remembered their last moments together, and missed him dearly. But it was almost over. In a matter of hours, she would be off the mountain and would be free again to hear his voice. She would call him, and soon she would feel his gentle touch again, his soft lips, and would disappear into that safe place she always found when she was with him. She did have reason to smile.
“On three. I want you to take the picture on three.”
She faked a smile at him.
“One… two… three.”
Lucy stared deep into the tiny lens, thinking only of hearing Michael’s voice, smiled, and snapped the photo. As the click sliced through the quiet mountain air, the Russian cried out and leaped out at her with both arms and hands stretched out towards her.
Lucy didn’t know what was happening. She turned at the last moment, saw his outstretched arms fleetingly as they slammed into her shoulder and hurled her over the edge. Her world spun in circles as the wind buffeted and whipped about. She thought she screamed, but it faded quickly. It was as if she fell into a dream. She saw sky, and rocks, and sky again. A flash of trees, sky, and rock again.
Michael!
Father! Mother!
All seemed quiet, almost peaceful as she floated down, spinning and turning.
Why?
She didn’t understand. It must be a dream.
Wake up!
Wake up!
And then it all exploded in one bright flash.
Lucy’s body hit the stony outcropping, bouncing out and down in a crazy cartwheel, tumbling and shredding along the way down with each hit, leaving her skull crushed and the rest of her body broken like a limp rag doll.
