Tom and Daniel's journey

1

The boys were young and full of play. Every day to them that summer was full of green grass and blue sky, the gentle heat of the sun and the cooling gust of the breeze. They liked the meadow the best. There was something about that rolling emerald lushness that made them want to run about, whooping for joy. For joy they had. Even the birds sang as they laughed, darting about their heads.2

One day they ran from one end to the other without stopping, no easy feat for two nine year olds, even though they were so full of energy. When they stopped to pant by the buttercups one of them, the one with the dark tousled hair, pointed out before them. On the horizon jutted the sharp peak of a grey mountain, laced all over with wisps of white snow and fog. 3

With a gentle carelessness and boyish roughness they tumbled to the ground in a wrestling match. The fairer of the two pinned the tousled boy beneath his hands. "I bet i could climb that mountain!" he crowed. 4

The other pushed him off, laughing good-naturedly. "I could climb it faster than you." 5

The other shook his head, his curls bobbing. "Nu-uh, I’m the better climber, Daniel!" 6

Daniel turned his dark head to scan the mountain once more. It seemed harmless enough. A challenge. "I bet i could run up it right now," he said stoutly. 7

The other giggled and started to chase a caterpillar along the ground. They would definitely add the mountain on their list of things to do, but for the time being their attention span was limited.8

Over the next few years they visited the mountain they so desperately wanted to climb, but couldn’t get up more than a few feet, let alone half way. The Daniel constantly fell and scraped his knees, and his dear friend did not have much better luck. Tired and weary yet still determined, they would go home with dirty clothes and scuffed hands, knowing they'd come back and try again, full of beans.9

Then the boys came to be 16. They still went out onto the meadow and ran and laughed in the tall grass, almost how they used to as young boys. Daniel turned to his friend. "Tom, the mountain looks smaller these days."10

Tom squinted into the distance, running a hand though his thick pale hair and idly flicking away a butterfly that kept trying to land on his shoulder. "Maybe," he admitted, "or maybe the fogs clearing up." He thought the mountain looked smaller too, easier to climb, but he didn’t know how such a thing could be. 11

They looked at each other, each knowing what was coming next. They headed to the mountain.12

But once again they only got part way up until they could go no further. Yet they had certainly got further than they had all those years ago, though the stones seemed to cut them twice as bad on their doomed journeys up the rocky slopes. Tired and filthy, with a few cuts and bruises, they made their way home very late that evening.13

"Tom."14

"Yes?"15

"Look, the mountain is smaller."16

Tom looked. It was true; the mountain was much smaller than it had looked when he was a boy. He remembered trying to climb it for so many years, until he was 19 in fact. Then he had taken a break. Daniel had too, though he suspected he still dreamt of climbing it as he did, but rather at the back of his mind now. They had decided to come to the meadow that day to revisit childhood memories. They didn’t have many of those now they were 25 years of age a piece, but it was always a pleasure to see the green grass and blue skies. 17

"Shall we climb it?" asked Daniel. He’d never had to ask before, they'd just instinctively walked over and begun. 18

Tom shrugged. "Whatever." 19

The day began to wane and still both young men stood there, watched by field mice and pheasant and wheeling sparrows. Tom put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. "We don’t need to do it today, we can always come back in a few years."20

And so they did. Again, and again.21

"You can actually see the very top now," said a balding Daniel. Unfortunately he was already beginning to loose his beautiful dark hair and grow a paunch, even at the age of only 40. Tom looked more robust, but his hearing was getting lousy. He looked at the black tip of the mountain seeming to pierce the sky. It didn’t look so friendly as it had done. Not so picturesque and inviting. 22

"We can have a look..." said Daniel with a questioning glance. Tom didn’t care. They sidled up to the mountain. 23

"The stone is lighter,” said Daniel as he eyed the base. “Drier.”24

"And it seems steeper." pointed out tom. He noticed there weren’t many good handholds anymore - not that there had been an abundance of them in the first place. 25

Daniel pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. They had a habit of slipping down. "Lets...lets leave it for a bit. I think my wife'll want me back." 26

Tom nodded. "Yes, probably." 27

They cast a look at it once more before walking back, ambling companionably across the meadow in the dying sunlight. 28

"It looks like such a short distance to the top now," said a 70-year-old tom. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. Finally the blonde had seeped from his still full head of hair and had turned to sparkly silver. Daniel had a white comb over and a moustache that fitted his kindly face. He had kept his steel rimmed glasses. He tapped his cane on the loose rocks. 29

"What happened to all the plants round here?" he asked, "there used to be lots of vegetation, grass, bushes, even a few trees. And i don't hear any animals. There’s not even a dusty little snake." 30

Tom did not know. "Everything looks frail, Daniel." he looked back at the meadow. It was no longer a bright bottle green, it was dry and yellow. The sky was no longer an eggshell blue but a mist of grey vapours.31

Daniel shook his head. "I don't like it here. Lets go back. My legs hurt."32

Tom looked up at the mountain, which would be difficult to climb because of the slopes and rheumatism plaguing his friend, but the peak looked close enough to touch. Nevertheless, he did not want to right at this moment. He began to wonder what ever had possessed him to watch to master this mountain as a small boy. Daniel was looking at him, silent agreement on his withered face. 33

Tom and Daniel stood in the middle of the meadow, stooped and coughing. It had taken much energy just to walk this far from their homes. The grass was gone now, just a plain expanse of dirt and dry weeds where it used to grow so tall and virile. The sky was still a hazy stone grey. Small patches of fog kept floating along their vision and somewhere in the distance the skeleton of a tree creaked in the haunting wind. 34

Daniel took off his glasses and rubbed them with the corner of his shirttails but said nothing. There seemed nothing to say. But there was only one place to go. 35

Arm in arm and full of pain and arthritis the two 97 year olds hobbled towards the bleak mountain. Now the top point really was close. Too close. Daniel dint like it one bit. He felt it would loom over him and swallow him up if he took his eyes off it. Tom patted his shoulder. For the past few years he'd known this day had come. 36

He reached out a hand to start climbing. 37

"No." said Daniel suddenly, breaking the unearthly hanging silence. He grabbed his friend's arm. "Don’t." 38

"Daniel," said tom softly. He knew Daniel knew this had to happen just as well as he did, but it was hard to accept. It had taken a long while for him to accept it too, nearly all his life in fact, as soon as childhood was deceased. "Daniel, look at the meadow behind us." 39

Daniel turned reluctantly, facing the place he had so happily tumbled over as a tousle haired youth. His eyes filled with tears that smudged on the thick lenses of his spectacles. It was all so blank and dead and miserable. How could it be? He even started to forget the images of leaping across all that rich green grass. 40

"It's too sad." he said and wiped at his glazed eyes. Tom nodded. He knew all too well. 41

"Now look at me, Daniel, and look at you."42

Daniel looked. His hands were gnarled with ugly splotches of dark skin and unsightly wrinkles. His limbs were bone thin and forever in deep pain. His spine was arched, bending him over like a broken puppet. Tom looked no better; his eyes that used to be so bright and playful were now set deep within the sockets. He too was thin and wrinkled and riddled with pain. Yes, Daniel understood now.43

He held out his shaking arm. He was scared, but so was tom. There were few climbed the mountain and didn’t feel at least little apprehensive. 44

The road was steep and painful, true, but it was also short. They made it together at the top and sat down, resting either side of the sharp tip, which had once seemed so far away and ready to be conquered, and then they died soundlessly. The mountain, defeated and defeater, buried itself in the earth, taking the two old men with it.45

Little had they known as curly headed children that some mountains only looked good from the right angle.46