Encounter on Snowy Mountain – Part 1

ENCOUNTER ON SNOWY MOUNTAIN

Part 1

A Short Story By Golden Keyes Parsons

Mike peered out the window at the street lamp. A hazy halo of light illuminated his truck through the swirling snow. Pulling his jacket from the back of his chair, he slammed the door of his office and hurried toward the back door of the church. Late again. I should have left 30 minutes ago. Kim’s not going to be happy.

It was nights like this he wished he had taken the job offer at the large church in a city farther south. A freezing blast of wind and snow surged into the hallway as he pushed the door open. He stepped back into the warm shelter of the foyer while he dug in his pockets for his hat and gloves. Ducking his head, he opened the door once more and plunged into the cold toward his pickup. Something moved in the shadows. He shielded his eyes against the biting snow. “Hello? Who’s there?”

A dark figure, huddled against the wind, stepped into the halo of light from the street lamp. “Can you tell me how far it is to Virginia City from here?”

The young man, his scraggly beard sporting white crystals of ice and snow, pulled the collar of a long, tattered, gray coat around his neck. He wore no gloves. A dirty muffler covered his head.

“There’s no place named Virginia City around here.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure of it—just over the pass.” The stranger thrust his hands into his pockets. “How far is it to the pass?”

“I’ve lived in these mountains for over twenty-five years, and I’ve never heard of Virginia City.” Mike opened the door on the driver’s side. “And besides that, you’ll never get over the pass tonight in this storm.” He scooted into the seat and started the engine.

            You can’t leave this man out here in a storm like this.

Mike hung his head over the steering wheel. Stepping out on the running board, he looked over the top of the cab.

“Get in, my friend, and I’ll see what we can find out.”

“Thank you, but I just need to know how far it is to Virginia City.”

“Sir, I don’t know, but however far or near it is, you can’t go anywhere tonight in this weather. Why don’t you come home with me for the night?”

The young man hesitated and looked around the parking lot at the mounting snow. The bass guitar of a band from a nearby bar punctuated the late night cold air. “Well, uh, okay. Thank you.”

Mike got in the truck and pushed the passenger door open from the inside. He turned the heater fan on full blast. “The cab will be warm shortly. Doesn’t take long.” He smiled at the stranger.

The young man returned his smile, revealing missing teeth on the side. “I’m much obliged.”

Mike wrinkled his brow and chuckled at the antiquated language. He put the truck in four-wheel drive, backed out of his parking place and crept cautiously onto the road. “Better buckle up.”

The stranger appeared bewildered.

“Your seat belt—buckle it.” Mike touched the receptacle. “Pull the shoulder strap over and put it in here. Better safe than sorry.”

The young man fumbled with the strap and finally got it buckled.

“What’s your name?”

“Folks call me ‘Sonny’.”

“Okay, Sonny. Where are you from?”

“Virginia City.”

“Oh.”

Mike sighed and decided he wasn’t going to debate anymore tonight on the location of Virginia City. He wanted to get home and out of the blizzard. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to see the road through the “whack-whack” of the windshield wipers. The wind blew the snow almost horizontal into the headlights of his pickup.

“Where are the snow plows? I can’t see the road.” Although he had driven up and down the mountain road for years, a sudden snowstorm that blinded one’s vision and hid the road always unsettled his nerves.

“We’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

Mike stared at the confidence of the young man who just moments before had been uncertain which direction to go. Sonny began to hum an old folk tune.

“You have a nice voice. I’m in charge of the music at our church.”

“I know.” He continued to hum.

Ice began to collect at the base of the windshield. Mike turned the defrost gauge to full blast. A small semi-circle began to clear over the frosted glass.

Mike knew Kim would not be happy about the unexpected visitor. Their guestroom was always ready, but Kim liked to be prepared, and this stranger was—well—strange.

Sonny didn’t talk much. He responded respectfully to Mike’s questions, but offered no additional information about himself. His eyes were distant, and he would not look directly at Mike. He appeared emaciated and hungry and had no bags with him.

“Are you hungry? My wife has probably already eaten, but I could rustle something up for you.’

“No suh, I’m fine.” He had a definite southern accent.

“When was the last time you had anything to eat?”

“Really, I’m fine. Isn’t the pass back the other way?”

“Uh, yeah, but I don’t live much farther. I’ll be glad to take you to the bus station tomorrow, or I’ll even drive you over the pass and show you—there really is no Virginia City around here.”

“Thank ya kindly.”

They started down the steepest part of the long, winding road before it flattened out at the base of the mountain. Suddenly, the truck began to fishtail from one side of the road to the other. Headlights from an oncoming car poked through the blowing snow. Mike fought to gain control, but the truck careened toward the edge of the cliff. Branches of pine trees slapped against the windshield as they spun around. “Hold on! Looks like we’re going for a ride!”

Sonny raised his hand toward the windshield. Abruptly the truck righted itself and stopped, facing the opposite direction, beside a tall pine tree. The advancing car whooshed by, spraying snow over the hood of the truck.

“That was close.” Mike put the truck in park and turned to stare at Sonny. “It’s almost as if you commanded the truck to stop. What did you do?”

“Nothing, really. Just prayed.” He stared at Mike. “You do believe in prayer, don’t you? You being a pastor and all.”

“Yeah, sure I do.” Mike muttered, put the truck in gear and pulled back onto the road. “That was some mighty, powerful prayer. I thought we were going down the side of the mountain.”

Silence settled in the cab for the rest of the ride. They turned down the road where Mike lived. “This is it. See, I told you it wasn’t very far, although it seems like it in a storm. Everything will look different in the morning.” Mike pulled up to the front door. “Get out and wait for me on the porch. I’ll pull the car into the garage.”

The young man got out of the truck and followed Mike’s instructions, stomping the snow from his old boots. After parking the car in the garage, Mike ran up the walk and took off his hat, showering snowflakes down. “Lookee there. It’s snowing so hard, it’s already covered up your tracks.”

The stranger ignored Mike’s comment. “Nice house.”

(Come back and visit next week to read PART TWO on the blog.)

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