Dance Upon the Mountains

Well, it’s Wednesday!  That must mean a post about art in it’s many forms, including writing. 

I have been working on a novel with my writing partner, but we are still trying to figure out what to share or not.  So I was going to be stuck, but one of my friends said something to me that sounded cute.  I went to our title list and looked at mine, finding Dance Upon the Mountain.  It fit the idea perfectly.  It’s a bit long, but not as long as some of my posts.  😉  I just wrote it, so it is rough.

Without further ado:

Dance Upon the Mountain


                Stacey was thankful for the strength his dancing gave him as he climbed the mountain that he had grown up beside.  Of course, he’d always hated it when people told him, “Oh, I thought you were a girl.”  Apparently, most people didn’t realize that the spelling of his name was used for men and women.  Traditionally, his was the masculine spelling.  Shaking his head, he went back to climbing.  Although he didn’t need climbing gear on this section of the mountain, it was still a workout.  Now that he was up here, he might even make use of this route to keep in shape over the next two weeks while he was on break from the show.

                Looking down at the paper in his hand, he looked for the “rock shaped like a bear” that he had been told to look for.  Finally spotting it off to the right just before the trees, he walked over to it and found another piece of paper attached to it.  He’d been on a scavenger hunt for a couple hours now.  Each time he found a piece of paper, he got more excited. 

                His best friend in the world, Carl, had set this up.  Stacey had gotten to his house to go to lunch and found the first piece of paper.  They had dragged him all over town to all the places where the dastardly duo had hung out, gotten in trouble, or played together since they were in first grade and had to share the last desk in the overfull classroom.  Now he was in a place he had never gone as a child or adolescent, though.  The mountain had been owned by Carl’s cantankerous great grandfather, Wesley, until last year when the man had finally passed.  Stacey had only been able to fly in the day of the funeral and then fly out late that night.  Carl had been really upset about the man’s death, but he had been the only one.  Not surprisingly, everything had been left to Carl.

                That had been the whole aspect of that day Stacey had enjoyed.   Carl’s family had known Wesley owned the mountain, and they would never talk Carl into selling, no matter the money.  But when, right after the funeral, the family was called together, they got quite a surprise.  Uncle Wes, as Carl called him, had left Carl millions.  Carl’s family had pitched a fit!  It was entertaining since they seemed to think that Carl was still an eighteen year old kid that had given in when he was told by his parents they wouldn’t help with school unless he went where they wanted.  Anyway, Stacey had managed to find a great dance school nearby and they had managed to stick together.

                Looking down at the paper in his hand again, he looked around and saw a shimmer slightly to his left.  He walked toward it without paying much attention to what was around him except to avoid running into anything.  He didn’t want to run the risk of injury.  One of the other dancers was let go because of injuries.  Poor mick had been healthy, just accident-prone.  Stacey didn’t want to join him, though.  So watching his footing and the shimmer he was supposed to be walking toward meant that he was surprised when the trees suddenly opened up into a meadow.

                Blinking in the strong sunlight, he looked out on a perfect picture mountain meadow with a red and white checked blanket laid out.  There was even an actual picnic basket sitting on it.  Looking around, though, he didn’t see Carl.  He knew that Carl had to be there since there was no note attached to the basket.  Looking down at the note in his hand again, he saw there was another direction to it.  The shimmer he had seen was a small brook.  Looking down into its clear waters, he smiled and shook his head.  If Carl thought he was going in there, he was quite mistaken.  Since the mountain tops still had snow, he was sure that water was well beyond frigid.  Turning left, he walked alongside it for a few moments before it turned sharply.

                There at the corner of the brook was a huge boulder that hung out over the water.  Looking up, Stacey couldn’t hold back his grin.  Carl was laid out on his back in the strong sunlight that hit the stone.  The thing looked like it was almost flat on top.  Stacey thought he could get up there pretty easily, but he didn’t want to wake Carl.  His friend was tall and broad to his own short and slender.  He was also a dark redhead while Stacey had almost white-blonde hair.  They had been told more than once it made no sense for them to be friends.

                “Hey, Dancey, you coming up here?” 

                Carl was the only person that had ever called him by that ridiculous nickname.  Stacey only let him get away with it because they had been friends for so long.  “You’ll be lucky if I don’t come up there and push you in.”

                “Yeah, whatever, Dancey.  Get your ass up here already.”

                “Okay, you jackass.  Pushy, much?”  Stacey clambered up the boulder as gracefully as he could.  After the bend in the brook, it did a steep drop off.  From the boulder, they could see the entire town that butted up against the base of the mountain.  It was a spectacular view.  Carl had rolled onto his stomach so he could look out.

                “When I was a kid, I used to come up here and think.  I tried to tell Uncle Wes about it, but he told me he didn’t want to know where it was.  It was my special place.”  Carl pointed out over the small town.  “From here I could see the elementary and secondary schools.  I could look at the Dairy Queen and see who was out on Friday nights.  I could figure out who was having a hard time even if they didn’t say anything because their roof would be in bad shape.”

                Stacey didn’t know what this was about, but he realized it was very important to Carl.  When Carl turned and sat up, he followed.

                “This is where I came when I failed to make the baseball team in junior high.  This is where I came after my date with Doreen Springer, so confused about why I didn’t really want to kiss her at the end.  And sitting here, I saw you go to the Dairy Queen with Grace Varner.  I was so angry, but I had no idea why.  For weeks I sat here and thought every day after school.  Right here,” Carl ran his hand across the rough boulder fondly, “I finally figured out that I was in love with my best friend.” 

Stacey started to open his mouth, but Carl gently covered them with his hand.  “I figured that I should come back to this very special place to ask him to marry me.”

With eyes filled with tears, Stacey couldn’t speak.  Stroking Carl’s cheek, he finally found the only word that mattered.  “Yes.”


~ by theartistryofthebipolarbrain on March 21, 2012.

3 Responses to “Dance Upon the Mountains”

  1. Wow, that’s really great! No, really, I mean it! Sounds like a fun novel in the works… 🙂

  2. HI girl, I haven’t read this one yet today but I will in a bit.
    TAG YOUR IT!!!!!!!!!!!

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