Freezing in the Sun | Teen Ink

Freezing in the Sun

June 13, 2012
By Patrick8Clapper BRONZE, Avon, Connecticut
Patrick8Clapper BRONZE, Avon, Connecticut
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The plane ride was quiet. Well, It was quiet in that he didn’t say a word. She might have talked for hours, he didn’t know. He wasn’t listening. Just looking. Watching the mountain float by.
“Why are you so quiet? Will you ever talk to me? No. You just sit there and act like I am saying nothing. Do you even respect me?”
“Yes Dear.”
“No you don’t. You don’t even listen when I talk. Why don’t you listen?”
“I listen Dear, I just don’t respond.”
“That’s the problem with you, you don’t talk. You wonder why I am the only person that talks to you? It is because you do nothing but sit there and stare into invisible worlds.”
Wayne sat there, not responding, while he stared at the very visible world that lay before him. The mountain looked huge from the plane. He could see the definition of the peak. How could nature create such a mesmerizing mountain, then turn around and create his wife, Annabelle. She was not hard to look at, in fact, he always caught other men staring. Naturally he didn’t do anything but notice. She was beautiful. 5 foot 5 inches, her heels adding 4 inches. She always wore skimpy outfits to show off her proportionally perfect body, even on their way to the Himalayas. She was indeed beautiful, but at the same time, she wasn’t all his. She was not satisfied by Wayne. He was as skimpy as her outfits. He tried to work out, but the bulk never came. He inherited all his money from his very successful father, who made all the family money on the stock exchange. Though his size was small, two inches shorter than Annabelle, Wayne had excellent endurance. Probably from his swimming career. He had been a state champion swimmer in Kansas. He stopped swimming and bought a big house in Rhode Island when he graduated college, where he met Annabelle.
“Wayne, Honey, how close are we, my legs are cramping.”
“We are going to land any minute Dear.” Wayne responded
“Well that’s a relief. Could you massage my legs Honey?”
But Wayne didn’t respond. He just stared out the window, mentally preparing for this journey he was about to set out on.

A few days after landing, Wayne stood at the base camp of Mount Everest, staring at the beauty of nature’s power.
“Why is it so cold?” complained Annabelle.
“We are several thousand feet above sea level, Dear, It won’t be warm until we return to the airport in a week.”
“Well where is the bathroom? I need to reapply makeup, that hike up made me all sweaty.”
“I’m surprised you have even made it this far” he mumbled to himself.
“What Dear?”
“Nothing my love.”
“I wish you wouldn’t mumble like you do. It makes me self conscious.”
He wondered how someone who has everything, money, beauty, and opportunity, could be self conscious. Annabelle married into Wayne’s money, but was a model for Playboy before their marriage. Sometimes, Wayne looked at her, up and down, and wondered, ‘why did she marry me’? But quickly he was reminded when she would turn to him asking for some jewelry or for money so she can go “shopping” with the friends. He laughed at this. He knew that her friends didn’t like to shop. They would go and meet men at clubs and not return until the next morning. Annabelle would make up stories like the car broke down or they got lost in the city. He never believed her. But he was too big a coward to confront her, so he let her go out. He let her take his money and spend it on things she didn’t need. That is why he was here. He came to the Himalayan Mountains to climb Mount Everest. He hoped that the climb would either make him stronger, both physically and mentally, or kill him trying. It was his chance to show that she didn’t control his fate. He thought if he did this, it would earn him a new respect. Something that Annabelle hadn’t given to him since they first met.

It was the morning of the start of his climb. He woke at two o’clock in the morning to prepare. As he organized his pack, his wife awoke next to him.
“Wayne, Dear, I am really scared for you.”
“Don’t be dear, when I return, we will visit Paris.”
“Oh I love you Wayne!”
“I love you too Dear.”
Wayne got his breakfast, put on all his layers and pack, and looked to the top of the mountain. ‘Here I come’ he thought.
As he started forward, he heard Anabelle call out to him. For a split second, he felt cared for. Maybe she actually did feel for him. Maybe she wasn’t such a wh*re. Maybe she did love him.
“Dear, when we travel to Paris, may my friends come so we can go shopping?”
Shopping. The feeling of love left him.
“Yes, of course dear.”

It was Wayne’s third day on the mountain. It was summit day. He was excited. As he slowly marched to the top, he felt strong. He knew he had the ability to complete this expedition. The day was perfect. Though temperatures were 25 below zero, the sun was out, shining down on him.

No picture, description, or even story could describe the beauty. The view was so amazing, Wayne found himself staring at the nudity of the earth. It was the most perfect day on record. He sat at the top for thirty minutes, taking mental pictures. He daydreamed about being a man. Being the man that could please Annabelle. Being the man that could keep her loyal. Being the man that was in control. But as he prepared to hike down, he left that invisible world. He became Wayne, the coward, again. Wayne the weak. Wayne the oppressed. While thinking about his unfortunate reality, Wayne didn’t think about his descent. It happened in a half of a second. He felt every nerve in his foot scream in agony, every single one of them shot their complaints up to Wayne’s brain, telling him to stop moving. Telling him to collapse. Telling him that he was in trouble. Wayne looked down at his foot as he lay on the ground, only to see it was pointing towards the spot he had tripped. His own foot was mocking him. pointing to the little divot in the ground that made his big boot miss a beat.

Wayne, sitting in pain and agony, realized that he would have to create a splint for his foot if he wanted to make it down alive. As he took off his pack, to get the necessary materials, he stopped. A line of memories flew across the front of his eyes. He saw himself watching his wife step out of some strangers car, not before giving him a kiss and putting her dress back on. He saw his wife complaining to him about how he doesn’t listen to her. He saw his wife smiling, but not at him. At the man sitting behind him, who had bought her a drink at the bar. He saw his wife leaving that same bar with the same guy, claiming he was going to show her his art collection at his home. He saw his wife telling him that he should not wait up for her and that she would meet him at home. He saw his wife, but nobody he loved. It was at this moment when Wayne felt the need to put his pack back on. He sat there, for a few hours, the sun beaming down on him. The ice collected on his cheeks. The color from his skin was gone. His eyes were milky. His jacket flapped in the wind, his goggles had started to crack. Snow was starting to cover his left side. The wind, like Annabelle, had no respect for him. It just dropped the snow right on him, trying to clean up the mess by covering it up.

A man that had gone up a day later than Wayne, by the name of Paul, returned to the base camp after reaching the summit.
“Annabelle! Annabelle!”
The two had already “met” after Wayne set out.
“Paul you can’t act like you know me. My husband will be returning soon. He can’t know of our ‘meeting.”
“Annabelle,” He said with wide eyes, “I do not think he will ever find out.”
Annabelle stared at him with a puzzled look. Her jaw slowly opened. At the same time her eyes widened and her nose crinkled. Tears started to run down her face, slowly, dramatically. There was no noise but the sound of the wind, yelling out, boasting about its cleaning job. Annabelle collapsed. She looked to the sky.
“What did I do to deserve this?” she screamed out in terror. The scream quieted the wind’s boasting. The sun shinned down on her, highlighting the tears as they dripped off her face. Then the wind continued on in its boasting. The mountain continued to act innocent. Like it had done nothing wrong. Then, the clouds came in and concealed the sun, making it useless. The mountain hid itself with the clouds, for it could not keep a straight face any longer.

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece for my English class and to my surprise, my teacher had given me a 100, read it to the class, and suggested that I send it to a teen magazine. I wrote this paper in one try and it didn't take me more than 5 hours. It just kind of flowed out of me.

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This article has 1 comment.

YeahIDK said...
on Oct. 2 2012 at 4:35 pm
Not my favorite style of writing but very good and very dramatic, keep up the good work! 

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