Fenrir has already seen it and is walking over to the road as the small plough makes its way slowly up the hill.
Time seems to move in a strange way up here, and the plough is no exception.It’s methodical and gentle, yet ruthlessly pushes the snow to the edges of the road.
As it reaches the boundary of our land, the plough stops, the engine cutting out, the lights still flashing on the top of the vehicle.Fenrir edges closer, regarding the driver before turning to me and silently telling me to stay where I am.
The driver tugs down his beanie before swinging his door open and dropping from the cab.
“Hey there,” he calls, his black boots landing on the crisp snow that’s piled up, his jacket and trousers oversized in fluorescent orange waterproof material luminous against the white backdrop.
“Hey,” Fenrir replies as he stands taller and spreads his chest as if he’s a peacock preparing to wage war.
If the man is disturbed by Fenrir’s appearance, he doesn’t show it.He merely nods at the driveway and says, “You’ve been busy.”His navy woollen hat is pulled low to his brow, and the collar of his jacket is worn high as if he’s Elvis.What remains of his face is dark, his skin a road map of lines, as if every job he’s done has been weathered into it.
“Thought we best make a start at clearing it whilst the snow’s on hold.”Fenrir eyes the man, then looks towards the road.“What’s it looking like?”
The guy glances behind him as if to remind himself before he turns back to Fenrir.“It’s not great.The plough has cleared the bulk, but it’s frozen underneath, and what isn’t frozen now will be by nightfall.I was instructed to clear the road.God knows why.You’d be a fool to try and drive down it.”He scratches his chin and then nods at the Jeep.“You going somewhere?”
I can feel the tension coming from Fenrir.He’s not sure of the situation, and neither am I.What must this look like?Who in their right mind would plan on leaving the mountain in these conditions if there wasn’t some kind of emergency?
Fenrir takes his time before he answers.“We might have to.”
The man whistles through his teeth, shakes his head, and then raises his eyebrows.“Well, I hope you have four-wheel drive and the best tyres money can buy.If it weren’t for me needing this goddamn job to keep a roof over my family’s head, I’d have refused this suicide mission.”His eyes rise to the upper height of the mountain that looms behind us before resting back on Fenrir.
“You’ve managed to clear the road,” Fenrir points out.
“Yeah, but I gotta get back down, and I reckon we only have twenty minutes before we’re going to be in total darkness.”This time, his eyes rise to the sky before landing back on Fenrir.“Now, if you don’t mind, I have a family to try and get home to.”He claps his hands together and then grabs for the cab door.“Mind if I use the drive to turn around?”
Fenrir nods as the guy climbs back into the driver’s seat.He starts the engine and then leans out the open window.“If you’re good to go, you can follow me back down; might be the sensible thing to do.I’ll be gritting as I go, so you’ll have a better track to drive on.”
Fenrir glances at me and then looks back at the guy.“Sure thing.We’re nearly ready.”
The man leans back into the cab and appears as if he’s about to turn the vehicle around when he pops his head back out the window.“I ain’t waiting, though.We don’t have much light left, and I’m not hanging around on this godforsaken mountain any longer than I have to.If you ain’t behind me, I ain’t stopping, do you hear?”
“Yeah.”Fenrir grips the shovel, then turns and makes his way over to me.“You ready to go?”he asks as I turn and walk with him, picking up speed to match his brisk pace.
“Yeah.I was going to get changed because I’m soaking, and I need the toilet.Other than that, I’m ready.”
He doesn’t break his stride as he approaches the Jeep and flips the lid to the boot.“Scrap the change of clothes,” he says as he slides the shovel in and closes it.“The guy is right.We’re losing light, and it won’t be long before the grit he spreads will be useless.This might be our only chance to get off this mountain safely.”
“Okay.I’ll just go to the toilet.”I head back into the house, fear and dread twisting in my gut.
Needing the toilet wasn’t a lie.I should go now, because who knows how long it’ll take us to get off this mountain, and I’ll get the chance to stop and use a restroom.I’ve also forgotten something: my mother’s journal.It remains in my bedroom, discarded on the bedside cabinet after I’d finished reading it.I hadn’t packed it, thinking it belonged to this house and needed to stay here.But something is telling me to get it.I’m not sure if it’s because it was my mother’s or whether I don’t want other people finding it and reading it.Maybe it’s just because this might be the only thing of hers I have left.
We’re running from my father, and that means running from my mother.What if I never see her again?My chest tightens at the thought.
Glancing at the house as I run back inside, I note the arched windows, the grand entranceway, and then, as I bound up the stairs, the swirling banister.I try not the think that these might be the last things I see if we don’t make it off this mountain.
Darting into the bedroom, I grab the journal from the side and then duck into the en suite.I try not to think about anything as I relieve myself quickly, imagining Fenrir sitting in the Jeep, revving the engine, warming the car for whatever lies ahead.
When I’m done, I reach for the toilet roll, and that’s when the lights go out.
Shit.Not again.
This is not what I need right now.
Grabbing for the toilet paper, I tear off a piece and wipe myself quickly, hoping my eyes will adjust to the gloom, the sun not yet having fully descended.
Once I’m done, I go to stand and wobble, my balance thrown.I place my arms out, but the fading light throws shadows across the room as if trying to disorientate me.I pull my leggings up and try to ground myself by placing my feet in a solid stance as if I’m on a boat.I’ve been here before, and I’m not about to panic like I did the first time.
