by Tom Calen
“Mike?” Paul called out. He shook his head at his foolishness. If the cabin did indeed belong to his old leader, the place had long since been abandoned.
“Hey guys, back here!” Erik called out.
Exiting the home and walking to its rear, Paul and Lisa joined Erik and Michelle as they stared down at a small mound of collected rocks. A large stone had been placed at the bier, unmarked save for a “G” carefully carved into it.
Paul exhaled with a small laugh. “You stayed with him ‘til the end, huh, old girl?”
“I remember when he rushed into his house to get her,” Michelle said, a tear rolling free down her cheek. “She just kept licking my face when he handed her to me.” Wiping her tears, Michelle shook her head. “This is silly. It’s been thirty years. I knew she was gone by now.”
Paul knew why she cried, though. Gazelle was a tangible symbol of a human friend they all loved and missed dearly. Faced with her death, it was no large leap to mourn for master as well as canine.
“Anything in the cabin?” Lisa asked him, twining her fingers with his.
“No. No one’s been in there for years,” he told them all.
* * *
The descent down the mountain was funereal and somber. The quartet spoke infrequently, even Erik muzzled his complaints of aches and exhaustion. When they reached the base, weary from days of hiking, Paul could identify every year that had passed since he had last trekked the mountain. You’re a grandfather now, his mind teased. What the heck are you doing hiking up a mountain!? He saw his feelings shared in the eyes of his companions. The pains of age had been worth enduring to honor an old friend.
Two black sedans waited in the nearby parking lot. Still have twin guards, he joked silently. He slowed his pace and turned back to stare at the rising rock. Steadying himself on the newly placed placard that sprung up from freshly turned earth, Paul muttered with a grin. “Goodbye, you crazy son of a bitch.”
After easing into one of the cars, he offered a final look at the bronze sign sitting atop well-carved marble. The monument was simple, he knew, and did not measure fully to the deeds. It’ll have to be enough, he thought as he read the pair of bold words raised in relief.
ALLARD’S PEAK.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue