Walk up the Mountain

Walk up the Mountain

Evelyn fell into a deep depression in 2025. She struggled to get out of bed in the morning, slept a good part of the day on the couch downstairs in their home in Beacon, and watched reality TV in endless doses. Crying jags that came out of nowhere accented the awful scenario that went on for the better part of three months. At the height of this period, at its very apex, Sean even invited Evelyn’s mom from Scottsdale to come live with them at the end of August. She lived in the spare bedroom of the tract house, the one they bought two years earlier, once a boarding house for migrant workers that was built in 1900, that sat just down the hill from the mountain.

Rose’s presence proved helpful to some degree, the clouds parted ever so slightly for Evelyn, and the fever mercifully ran its course before more drastic measures had to be taken to alleviate the depression. More drastic options were under discussion with a psychiatrist in the city, right before the right meds kicked in, or the illness simply gave up, and Evelyn woke up in the morning feeling better over an entire straight week.

By early November, Evelyn even mostly felt like herself. She began writing again, she drank wine at night, and she took long runs. Her mother departed, and on the night before she left, they had a big dinner at the house with a few close friends from the neighborhood to celebrate her stay. Afterward, life returned to normal or to the mostly normal state that existed before Evelyn got sick.

Exactly one week after Rose left, it was unseasonably warm on that Sunday and Sean and Evelyn decided to hike up Mt. Beacon. Sean’s twelve-year-old son from a previous relationship was with them and Josh was roped into the planned hike, and the whole thing was set into motion by 10 a.m. that morning. Throwing three bottles of water, three bananas, and three granola bars into a knapsack that Sean strapped to his back, they set out for the base of the mountain with the sun shining brilliantly for late autumn in New York. Sean had once completed the hike to the summit of the mountain. But neither Evelyn or Josh had ever made the climb before, so they didn’t know any better when the hike from the start was a lot harder than Sean had remembered, as they mounted the stairs that were at the beginning of the trail that would take them straight up the mountain.

The upshot of the auspicious start was that all three of them were severely winded before the real hike started. And the ascent they soon tackled had few switchbacks. Up it went, straight up the short, steep mountain. The climb was not only punishing, it was rocky and slick, and their feet began to slip as they maintained brave faces. But soon they began taking short breaks. On one of those breaks, they looked around, and they saw that their path hugged a defunct ski chair lift with large and rusted poles that still sprouted from the brush on the ground.

Halfway up the mountain, Sean initiated the next break, this one a much longer one. He implored Evelyn and Josh to continue on ahead as he stayed behind and checked on his phone. It was true that he was expecting a rare weekend work email but he also wanted to check some sports scores, which could be guessed at but wasn’t discussed. Evelyn and Josh looked at him askance but they climbed ahead, soon taking their own break, stepping onto a bluff to check out the eye-catching sight: the miniaturized town of Beacon below. Because the bluff was just off of the main path and not easily seen because of the wild growth, Sean missed that opening when he passed it on his own a short time later. He expected to see his wife and child at some point soon, but he then gave up on that, assuming they had decided to make their way up to the fire tower at the top of the mountain alone. So he climbed on ahead. And during this time, he also noticed that the cell reception on his phone had disappeared.

Sean got lost almost immediately on the way to the fire tower. For some time, he didn’t panic because he saw hikers on paths far off in the distance, he even heard their voices. But before too long, it dawned on him that he now had walked an extra mile, maybe more, and still he didn’t see the tower. And he stopped seeing those other hikers, he no longer heard their voices. Not long after that, his calves began to ache. And he saw that his water bottle was empty. After twenty more minutes of this, walking the whole time, he was surrounded by large trees all around him. He was now alone, really alone, and he thought on that, and some other things. He hadn’t always been nice when Evelyn was sick. Why was that? From the time that they first met in Brooklyn, and for a long time afterward, extending into the move up to Beacon, it was without a doubt that Evelyn had always been the dependable one. She was the one who booked their vacation flights, the more emotionally stable of the two, and the one who anchored their lives. She had dared disrupt that with the audacity of getting sick(!) but it was more than that. More than about Evelyn. He knew that he also felt he had spent the whole first half of his life just waiting for the other shoe to drop. His father had left them when he was little, and it was amazing what that absence had caused inside himself. If his father had been a mean SOB, or a drunkard, anything bad, it would have been better than simply not being there, which is what had happened. It led to the feeling of always waiting by that front door waiting for his father, a man he barely remembered, to return home. That feeling didn’t make him angry, which would have made sense in a way. It was much, much worse. It made him doubt life, because anything could be taken away from him at any time. The not knowing when the shoe would drop, but feeling sure it would. So he had lived a good portion of his life living like there was no tomorrow, because he believed there was no tomorrow. Evelyn had changed that, until he became if not a different person, an improved one. Someone who could finally look in the mirror and stand the sight of himself. But Evelyn had then betrayed him. And it was like his father walking out all over again. And he was older now, and this time he did feel anger. He was angry with Evelyn. The sicker she got, the angrier he got. Her sickness, while not long, was so traumatic he wondered if it hadn’t poisoned their relationship somewhat. That they’d never get completely back to where they were, because the poison was now there, and possibly never leave.

His phone started buzzing. The thing worked again and Evelyn was calling him. In an excited tone, she told him to head straight back down the mountain. She described the bluff in detail and told him they had never left it this whole time. He told her not to move, he was headed their way.

It took one hour to reach them. And by the end, his feet were badly blistered. The tops of his heels were rubbed raw and he felt warm blood. His calves began to seize up. By the time he was close to the bluff, he had to remind himself in self-reassuring whispers not to panic because that was the worst thing he could do. At the very end of it, he staggered through the green opening and there were Evelyn and Josh sitting on a rock. It hurt to do so, but he rushed to them, and they shared a group hug.

Now heading off of the mountain that day together, Sean made small jokes. And that worked for a time, making the stress of what had just happened feel like it had maybe happened to someone else. But soon they were lost on the mountain, this time, together. No doubt due to their exhaustion, they had somehow missed the stairs to take them completely off of Mt. Beacon. And the steep path they were on headed further and further downward. His calves were fully cramping, and he knew there was no way he could head back in the other direction. And he convinced his companions to continue walking, to see where it led them.

A few minutes later, they came upon the backyard of a house set back in the woods, just off the path. They saw that it was close to the main road that connected the town of Cold Spring to Beacon, a good sign. They at least knew where they were now. And suddenly a man appeared in the backyard. The figure obscured by trees and brush asked if they needed help. They yelled, “Yes!,” they were lost. “Walk through the prickers in front of you and come into my yard,” he instructed them. And they did as they were told, suffering small scratches on their arms and faces, but after that ordeal, finding themselves in the man’s backyard. “This happens all the time,” he told them. “Do you need water?” Yes, they said again.

The man told the three of them to stay put. He then disappeared into the blue house behind him, and after a few minutes, returned with three bottles of water. After drinking the man’s ice-cold water bottles and thanking him profusely, they headed out to the road that would take them back home.

Not too far into that final walk, they looked back to where they had just come from. A “FUCK BIDEN” sign was near the roadside and a mannequin burned in effigy was hanging from a tree. They said nothing and continued walking. Nighttime was approaching.