Roxi's Mountain

Roxi’s Mountain

Chapter two

 

“This is us,” says O’Malley. “As for the rest of these symbols, I have no idea.”

“What about those arrows,” asks Benny. O’Malley tells him, “My guess is us choosing between walking east or west. I’m thinking west.”

Follow the path of the sun makes its way in, each nodding in agreement.

 

Leading the band of four across the carnage of skull and bone, O’Malley feels the whitecoats tinkering with him again. Thinking this is not a good time, the funny-looking whitecoat says, just a minute more. A kaleidoscope of colors bloom only to fade. What are you doing? Just a little fine tuning. Blink once, and then one more time. Good. Alright then. Sensing the whitecoats gone, eyes feel dry, burnt as if he had been out in the sun too long. Drawing a hand up to his brow, knuckles are grossly enlarged as if rheumatoid arthritis had settled in, fingernails full of grime. Here comes the funny-looking whitecoat, we made some improvements to the optic nerve. Relax your stare. He does, hand back to being normal looking. You’ll figure it out. Just like that, the funny looking whitecoat is gone.

Wondering what is next to be improved upon, not that far away is a horde of odd-looking beetles no bigger than a sugar ant crawling towards them. Focusing on the one leading the charge, its razor teeth and opaque eyeballs gives reason why many have tried and failed. Keeping his voice calm, O’Malley mentions, “There’s an army of beetles coming this way.” “Did you say beetles?

“There’s close to a million from what I have counted, the bad is that each one looks hungry. So, unless you want to stay here and be eaten alive, we should go back and have another look at those symbols.” They messed with him again, thinks Lewis. Not that the improvements are bad, it is the fact that these whitecoats are never satisfied. Looking skyward while scrambling back to the obelisk, there is not a bird in sight. Follow the blackbird she said, it will show you the way through this world. Growing impatient, hears Vincent yell out, “We should take the stairs!”

Bad idea as the pavers are slick with a fine dusting of bone. One slip may not kill them, but chances are bones will break, the ability to get away from the millions of voracious beetles has Lewis saying to Vincent, “Give O’Malley a chance.”

‘But we’ll be trapped if we stay there!”

Benny grabs Vincent’s arm, “Stick with me.” Vincent gives his lifelong friend a grimace, “Fine. This could end up bad.” Overhearing the two, Lewis looks skyward once again. Blackbird, blackbird, show yourself falls quietly from his lips. Patience is needed, comes echoing. There’s not a lot of that going around right now has Lewis keeping this to himself. Looming is the obelisk buried deep within a patch of red bone. Symbols, and four stick figures are carved upon its face. Being an unfamiliar language, O’Malley’s brain is scanning for a match while the background noise of sandpaper on wood increases in volume with every second gone by. “Stand back from the edge. Hate to have one jump on you.” Pressing his back against the side of the obelisk, Vincent pulls Benny aside him. Panic has set in and thinking this reasonable, Lewis walks up next to O’Malley, “Anything?”

“One, that wizard is a tricky devil but yeah, I believe so.”

“And?”

We each claim a stickman and then we need to touch every symbol starting from the top going left to right. Down here within this circle is where we place our thumbs at the same time. Simple, really. I’m mad at myself for not getting this right the first time. So, I mean, those beetles are pretty close.” Lewis gets what is being said, “Let’s do this.”

 

Benny goes first, and no sooner does he remove his thumb, the stick figure disappears. “Holy crap,” says Vincent as he places his thumb upon another stickman. The one chosen melts away and after stepping back, Vincent stares at his thumb in wonderment. O’Malley goes next, followed by Lewis.

With authority in his voice, O’Malley tells them, “Alright, do what I do.”

 

Copying O’Malley, each touch is deliberate and after the bottom row of symbols has come to an end, O’Malley stresses, “Alright, altogether on three. One…two…three.”

 

Barely noticeable at first, the obelisk begins to sink below the red grains of bone and looking Vincent’s way, Benny barks out, “Vincent, get away from the edge!” Heel inches away, Vincent steps lightly. “Stay close to me,” says Benny. Vincent nods and driving his fingers through his mop of black hair, does his best to still the hammering in his chest.

“I see stairs,” says O’Malley. “There’s a handrail too.”

That said, there is no hesitation as O’Malley takes the lead. Benny follows after him, Vincent right after all the while Lewis has one more look to the sky. Patience, she said. And thinking less of that and more of watching where he puts the soles of his boots, hears O’Malley ask, “Anyone got a match?”

Benny is quick with his zippo, and after sparking a flame, hands the lighter to O’Malley who lights a torch. “Here, you can have this back. Alright, let’s see where this takes us.”

Under the light of the burning torch, the band of four descend the narrow passage.