mountain

The cold war had been in effect for almost a week now. The minute Michael walked in the door, Mercy felt the chill. The temperature in the house seemed to drop below freezing. She watched him as he moved through the kitchen, stopping at the sink, drawing a glass of water from the faucet. Slowly, methodically� intentionally ignoring her as she watched. She was fascinated by his ability to turn cold and chilly at any time he wished. No emotion, no angry words, in fact, he was downright civil. That could be the most annoying part of what Mercy had dubbed �the cold war�, he never raised his voice, he never brought up the topic of the fight, he simply went about his everyday duties with a cold detachment. Mike�s long black hair fell loosely onto his thin shoulders, his dark skin was slightly wet from perspiration. The hot autumn evening didn�t penetrate the house, and it didn�t warm his icy stare.

�Everything fed?� Faith tried to start what would have been a normal conversation on any other night. Normally they would have sat back with a cup of coffee after feeding all of the livestock on their homestead and talked, sometimes for hours, about their plans for the future. The topics would range from tangible to somewhat unrealistic to downright silly, but they would laugh and talk and dream.

Not tonight though. Mike simply nodded his head and walked into the front room, knelt down by the fireplace and started to add logs to the hearth. Mercy followed him into the room and stood behind him.

�We have to talk, Michael.�

Mike ignored her and continued to pile logs high enough to create a chimney fire. Mercy knew she was getting to him; he was beginning to get aggravated. �Talk to me!� she screamed at him. If he didn�t respond she was sure she would hit him, she just couldn�t take the silence any longer. Suddenly he jumped up and whirled around to face her, his face flushed with anger. Now it would happen, they could have it out and the war would be over. It meant that someone had to win and someone had to loose, of course, but when the dust had settled, they could go back to their normal, happy, content lives.

He grabbed her and pulled her toward his wet, moist body. She could feel his shirt, drenched with perspiration penetrate her cotton t-shirt. He held her so tightly that she had her face pressed into his chest. He smelled like warm, old-spice, she loved his smell. Suddenly she broke down and cried; she couldn�t help it the tears just came like a torrent. He rocked her gently and stroked her back as she cried heavy sobs. Even as the tears started to end, she didn�t want the embrace to end. His lips touched her forehead gently and she felt herself melt. This is how it would end, there would be no words to end the war, forgiveness didn�t need to be spoken, it just was. As their embrace ended, she slowly pulled away and looked into his deep brown eyes. How she loved him. She had given up everything for him, her job in the city, that had been easy although she had had trouble getting used a life without the �things� she had been used to, life was simpler in the broad expanse of country where the simple life could be hard, but fulfilling. She had given up her family, her friends, none of the people she had known before him had understood what he had meant to her, why she would leave a life full of amenities for a life with no television, no cable, no computers and internet� most of all why she would leave it all for life with a man who had no education, and even more� why she would leave it all for life with a black man. That had been the real issue. Her parents yelled and screamed, threatened and bribed. When she turned down offers of advancement in her father�s company, and the proposal of marriage to the man they had always envisioned her with, they turned their backs. There was no communication now. That had been the most hurtful. She found out three weeks afterwards when her younger cousin had died in an accident� She and Sarah had been close growing up; they hadn�t even called to tell her of the accident. She had cried on Michael�s shoulder for an hour after she found out.
He had given up everything too, but it had been his choice, a life that had been spent in the glaring lights of publicity had finally taken their toll, he had just had it. When she had met him, he had been at the end of his rope with nowhere to go but let go or hang. When he asked her to go with him, she hadn�t even thought twice about what it would mean to disappear with someone who was known everywhere� It meant going nowhere. And that�s where they had ended up, on a cold, mountain in the Montana�s� but God, there were moments when it was the most beautiful place on earth. They had both had a lot to learn about living on a mountaintop� but it had been an adventure. His parent�s had been furious� especially when he told them there was no phone, no mailbox accept the P.O. Box in town about 45 miles away. That was their only communication with the outside world� a trip to town once a month, in the good weather.

�All I said before�� she tried once again to break into the shell he had created, to start the war so it could be over.

�Don�t!� His sharp admonishment startled her, he pushed her back away from him and glared at her.

�Michael. We need to talk about these things, we can�t just push things aside as if nothing happened.�

�Have Mercy�� he whispered. Shocked into silence, Mercy looked at the man in front of her, who suddenly seemed broken. She wondered how hard this life was for him. He had chosen it, he had wanted it, but perhaps it wasn�t exactly what he had bargained for after all. All she had said that morning was that it would be nice to go back, for a visit. See their families, regain some contact with those they had left behind. �I can�t go back, Mercy. I can�t reach out and pretend like it�s all the way it was before and then come back here again.� He sat down by the fireplace and fiddled with the logs, positioning them over and over again. Did she really see the look in his eyes she thought she had, the look of desperation, of desire� did he want to go back, for good. That was it� he was afraid to go back, to face that life. He wasn�t afraid he wouldn�t be able to come back, he was afraid he wouldn�t want to come back.

�It�s time to face our choices, Mike. We need to go back, we need to know this is right for us. If we go back, and feel like we�ve left home behind, and want to come back, then we�ll know this is the place we want to be. If we go back, and don�t feel that way� well, we can�t go on living here without knowing is all.� Bending slightly she ran her fingers down across his shoulders and felt them tensing beneath the heavy shirt. She felt him fighting inside himself and she wondered inside what fears he had. Perhaps life back �home� wouldn�t include her� she really hadn�t thought about that until just this moment. God what was she doing pushing him to go back. If he faced that life again and stayed� where would that leave her. Yes, Lord, please, have mercy.