Hey, I’ve completley revamped my story. If anybody wants to read it and give me a critique it would be most appreciated!!!
The title is: “Yin Yang and in Between”
The northern Alaskan winter is an entity itself, a living beast, that challenges any who traverse its frozen existence; sentencing those who fail its challenge to spend an eternity frozen as a slice of time and of man’s unquenchable thirst to conquer that which seems to be unconquerable.
This was it for Barry, the culmination of his life, all he had worked for. Since his childhood he had dreamed of the North Pole. He dreamed of the unfathomable sensation of standing atop the world. At a mere thirty four years old he had made his fortune, or rather inherited it, and was, as far as he was concerned, king of the world. It was time for him to take his throne.
Greg was one of his life long friends, and a fellow conspirator, with whom he sustained a steady streak of mischief; this was not a plan Barry meant to keep Greg out of. Greg didn’t really want to go, but as Barry’s partner in adventure, he had practically promised him his companionship. Together they trained in the mountains of Montana, bearing hundred pound packs over countless scores of miles. And in the resting period following this, they planned the final expedition; he and Greg were insistent on taking a path never before navigated by human feet. They endured three weeks of sleep deprivation, hunched over maps planning their route. They obtained permission from the local government and booked a private plane to fly them to the small town from which they would outset.
The night before they took a plane out of Montana, Barry was wide awake, sitting at a desk in his bedroom, making final checks and plans as his wife slept. He sat hunched over his maple wood desk in an undershirt and jeans. Maps and schedules and lists were spread out in front of him and he attacked them with his pencil in a maniacal fervor. The front part of his hair was plastered to his forehead and sweat accumulated in his long, thick eyebrows. Every time one furrowed, a drop would spill, falling onto the paper; Juneau was already just a big lake. Every time he thought he misplaced something, or forgot to prepare something, his heart would violently protest, thrashing about in his ribcage. Then the paper would be found and it would all subside. Around a quarter to two his body gave out and he collapsed on the desk. His mind was reeling with a copious supply of snowy images. Tears fell freely from his eyes; tears of joy no one man can contain, for a dream too great to be unrealized.
Three blocks away Greg too was wide awake, however for a very different reason. He drew deeply on his inhaler; asthma had been a lifelong problem. As his chest convulsed with spasms of breath, he went back over the nightmare. Snowflakes as large as baseballs fell like lead, quickly raising the level of the snow. Greg stared intently ahead, waiting for something; but waiting for what, he did not know. He waited and waited until the snow covered him and he could no longer see, nor breathe.
By four o’ clock both men were back asleep. At exactly seven o’ six, the sun broke through their windows, bathing each separate man in an all encompassing warmth.
They met at a small local park where family and friends gathered to bid them farewell. It was a fair day, with calm breezes and soft sunlight. A small barbeque had been organized and there were hamburgers and frankfurters enough to go around thrice. However, during the festivities Barry noticed Greg retreat to a park bench, gripping his chest. The inhaler slid from his pocket and into his mouth where he depressed the canister and slumped against the bench. His breathing was restored to normal as Barry sat next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Barry turned to Greg and consoled him and his fears. Greg’s spirits returned as the music was turned up and he went to dance with his wife.
The time for departure was an emotional one. A tear dropped from every eye as goodbye was said. Each and every person promised to see the duo again although their deepest fears could not be contained as the tiny droplets of bottled anguish turned to gushing rivers from.
The bags were loaded and Greg waited on the curb for his wife to return with the kids from school. He checked his watch, knowing he could not afford to miss the plane and knowing just as much, his own sanity could not afford not saying goodbye to his children. Then, a few blocks away he saw a black sedan racing down the strip. The car came to a screeching halt and two kids jumped out the door. They were small, just barely over three and a half feet, and each with a mess of blonde hair upon their heads. The two twin boys had darling smiles and eyes as blue as the ocean. The raced up to their father who wrapped both of them up in a tight hug. He let them go and rested a kiss on each of their foreheads. He stopped to remind them that he would return soon, and that he loved them, before rejoining Barry in the pickup truck.
The drive to the airport was silent, each one enveloped in their own thoughts. Barry drove stiffly, reverential of the fact that he was on the verge of accomplishing his ultimate dream. After a lifetime of planning, he would sit on top of the world.
2
They flew across Canada in an rickety old plane and landed in an old rickety town. After they landed, it took them less than thirty seconds to walk over to the local tavern where they were scheduled to meet their guide. They pushed open the wooden door to the din of a well occupied bar. Off in the far corner, a jukebox was blasting music that no one could hear over the cheers of poker winners, the songs of drunkards, and the everyday hubbub. They dropped their gear at the door and hung up their jackets, welcoming the warmth that the large hearth and the heat of multiple bodies provided. They ordered two drinks and sat down in a booth at the far side of the room, where it was considerably quieter and where the guide had told them to meet him. They finished their drinks quickly and ordered another round, all the while busying themselves with the numerous inscriptions carved into the table. After Barry had finished examining the table he looked at his watch and grumbled about the guide being late. Less than five minutes passed before the bar door swung open and a large snow drift fell in, followed by a heavily coated man. He bulldozed his way through the patrons and met Barry and Greg at the table. He did not sit as he informed them that their guide had fallen ill and was not predicted to recover for well over a week. The man advised them to wait it out at the local inn as it was too dangerous to try to go it alone and there was not another guide around for six hundred miles. They quietly discussed the new and unfortunate predicament. They reached a verdict and when they turned to face the man, he was no longer there.
They were an impatient bunch and marched right up to the door and gathered their gear. They grunted noisily as they hoisted their packs to their shoulders and strutted out the door. The next ten minutes were spent marching through the diminutive town. The last building to be passed was the poorly up kept and embarrassingly small City Hall. They walked around it, as it faced south and down the one and only street. Behind the rotted structure, was a white forest.
Barry removed his compass and held the leather coated circle in front of him. They struggled through the thick brush until they burst out into an open clearing. Greg fell back against the dense wall of the forest when he saw what he saw. A quarter acre of graveyard stood between those two men and the other side of the forest. Death permeated the air and they started out slowly and quietly. They moved carefully amongst the slabs of stone, sometimes pausing to read a name and figure out the age. Few were over thirty. And those who were, hadn’t far surpassed it.
They scrambled back into the forest, with their compass leading the way. After a short sprint, Barry broke out through the other side of the forest and it was his turn to loose his footing and fall back against a tree. The expanse of white washed tundra filled his eyes. Glorious mountains stood, gleaming in the sunshine, their jagged peaks perfectly capped in snow. It appeared as an infinite stretch of august natural beauty. Barry smiled broadly and raising his right leg perpendicular with his body, took an overly dramatic first step into the wild.
