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was flat ground under his feet, and here the vertigo was, killing him.
Liz stepped closer, none too confident that John wouldn't push her away, nor
certain either that she even wanted to approach. But she did anyway, and John
watched. He watched himself watch. He couldn't move. "Don't worry, they'll
find him."
Before she got any closer he confessed. "I ditched him, Liz. You don't know."
So he was going to push her away. Liz stopped.
"He was sitting there. Just gotta rest, he said. But then he wouldn't stand
up. And the last thing he said was fuck yeah, John. That's it. And then I had
to go or I'd still be there."
It took a minute, but then she recognized the bones of the Andes disaster.
"You're not talking about Tucker," she said.
"Forget it," he said.
"You," said Liz. "You forget."
He drew a breath.
"Forget Tony. Forget Tuck."
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He quit pushing her away. His arms just hung there.
"Bury them," she said.
"I can't."
"You can."
"Do you know how much I hate them?" he asked.
She frowned.
"I was sick. I was dying. Just like him." Sometimes he could see it so
vividly. "Torn to shit by the mountain. And the storm, it was like a
Veg-o-Matic, ripping us down. We were getting shredded." Immense, beautiful
avalanches had blossomed on either side of their ridge. Until the sun
disappeared you could even see rainbows in the hovering avalanche powder.
"There was no hope. And he knew it. There was no reason for him to say fuck
yeah, John. What's that mean, fuck yeah, John? That's my name. John."
If he stared at the fossils hard enough, Tony's face appeared sometimes, lips
working over and over at John's name. Now there were two of them to answer to.
He'd begun hearing Tucker call to him on the long swim down.
"John," said Liz.
He was desperate.
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"I forgive you, John," she said.
"You can't."
"But I do."
She took the chance and collected him against her chest. There was a moment of
pushing away, but she held on. In the end she was right. He was not a strong
man.
Holding his scratched, brown body against hers, Liz wondered if she had any
love left for him, but that wasn't the point right now. She had forgiven him.
That was paramount. Having said it, now she had to find ways to be true to it.
When they ended up making love beneath that strange wall of fossils, Liz felt
little passion. Neither of them climaxed, which embarrassed them both because
impotence seemed like a bad way to start things all over again, if that's what
this really was. Instead of trying the sex with more energy, they fell asleep
cushioned against one another. In that way, each wordlessly hoped, when they
woke up the bad times could seem like a dream.
As it turned out, Liz had packed in gear and supplies for an overnight. The
sleeping bag and food and gas stove had nothing to do with spontaneity, even
less to do with expectation. She hadn't really expected to find John. But even
cashiered and disgraced, she was a professional, and no professional would
enter the backcountry on a search without the basics. Unable to sleep for
long, she squeezed out through the entrance-way and then manhandled her pack
back through. John woke up, and they shared some food and kept their talk
small while the horizon burned out and dusk fell. The hike out would be simple
and flat, unimpeded by trees or streams, and they could be back on the valley
floor before midnight. All the same, seeing her
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Jeff Long - Angels of Light sleeping bag, John asked Liz to stay the night.
"There's some sort of mineral in the wall," he said. "It makes the fossils
glow in the dark."
"We could," she answered dubiously.
"I want to sleep with you is what I'm saying." Because of Kresinski, Liz had
always refused to stay overnight with John in Camp Four: "Too incestuous,"
she'd say. And now, because of her trouble with the law, John guessed Liz
wouldn't want him at her cabin.
"Are you cold?" They had dressed again, and she was nestled under his arm.
"Keep me warm is all."
John had never built a fire in the cove, and he didn't offer to now. For one
thing you could never be sure who might see the glow and try to investigate.
Also, he was afraid the smoke might blacken the olive-color limestone and mute
its fluorescence.
"You know," he said, "I have some money."
To his surprise, Liz smiled in the failing light. "I'll bet you do."
"A lot of money." Her good humor warmed him. "And none of it's spent."
"And you want me to run away with you."
John decided she wasn't being sarcastic. "Yeah. I do."
"Leave the Valley?"
"We already talked about it."
"I know."
"I'm not part of it anymore. You aren't, either."
"Amen. But what about my grand jury?"
"Screw it."
"Jump bail?"
"Screw it."
"You have enough money to buy my parents a new ranch?"
He stopped. Even turning it into a game had hidden snags. His spirits sank.
"I'm just saying "
"What?"
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"Are we that stuck, Liz?"
"I am."
"But afterward, we can go, Liz."
"Afterward? You can see the future?"
"It's all bullshit. They're not going to do anything to you. You didn't do
anything."
"You're going to make a great character witness, John. Camp Four Bum. Drug
pirate." She was trying to keep it light. Trying to dodge his intent.
John plowed ahead. "I want you to go with me. Now or later. Whenever you say."
"That's a switch," Liz said. Her voice was guardedly wooden. To John's ear,
she sounded the way he felt about Tucker. As if he were tiptoeing beneath a
levee that was about to break.
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"Not really. It just took a little time, you know."
"John," she sighed. "I don't know if I can do that with you anymore."
He tried misunderstanding her. "Anywhere you want," he said.
"It might be you and I've gone everywhere we need to. Maybe it's just too late
anymore."
"No," he reacted. But of course he would react. It was a climber's mind-set.
Wherever there was a challenge, there was a fight. Wherever there was a
mountain, there was assault. Once upon a time, Liz had found that contrariness
charming. Now it was tiresome. John sensed her annoyance and tried to back
away.
"What I mean is, all of a sudden, lately, everything seems too late," he said.
"And I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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