The Glowing Mountain

A mix of fact and fiction.

[A MESSAGE TO ALL MY READERS]

Dear Readers,

With this last story, I’ve reached the challenge I set myself - to write 200 short stories, one every week. Thank you all for keeping up with me. Next week will be the first part of a new ‘Book’, still in ‘Fantasy’, but not a ‘Story’.

Thank you all,

Georgina

 

 

 

THE GLOWING MOUNTAIN

 

The mountain had been there long before a village that had been created in the valley below, in the surrounding countryside. No one knew for sure when it had begun to glow, and yet suddenly a strange light had arisen from somewhere inside it, that beamed throughout the day, attracting people from far away. Once upon a time before the glow, there had been ice and snow during the winter months, when the mountain glowed it changed the snow from looking white to orange and pink. The locals thought that something they were unable to give a name to, was happening to the mountain. Another odd occurrence was that the mountain wasn’t hot to the touch. Even so, it had never been climbed, through fear of the unknown that just might appear in front of them. The glowing mountain remained where it had always been, and those who had spent their lives around it, knew it was best to leave it alone, although they weren’t quite sure why.

It wasn’t strictly true that no one had ever climbed it. Those who had dared to, had never returned from the mountain to tell everyone else what was up at the peak. The glow gave off less light at night, as if it wanted all those who lived near it to have a rest from the glare. Needless to say, the village enjoyed a healthy income from the tourism the mountain made, thanks to its originality. No visitor ever felt disappointed in making the trip however far away they lived, to take a look and photograph themselves with it in the background. The only problem for the keen photographers, was that when they arrived home and showed their pictures of the mountain - it wasn’t glowing. The photos revealed a typical mountain covered in small shrubs, earth, and rocks. The friends and relatives of the photographers, laughed at the incredulity of the others. As time passed, the tourists came and went, knowing they could never capture the unearthly glow of the mountain.

 

Penny was twenty years old and lived with her parents and her brothers. She knew nothing much about the world away from the village and the mountain. Her life was lived around her studies and her friends. In the autumn there was a festival in the village to celebrate the changes in nature. The trees that were in the village changed from green to reds and yellows through orange. The glowing mountain added a magical air to the proceedings. There were parades with floats, and fireworks. It was a big party where everyone could join in.

Penny was the queen of the festivities one year, and the ladies in the village had made her a lovely white dress with a sash in striped red and green. Penny was tall and slim, and had blonde hair and green eyes. Everyone said how stunning she looked in her dress. Her handmaidens were Heather and Kathleen, her two best friends, who were also dressed in white, with blue and orange stripes. The three girls were placed on the top of the last huge float, and were accompanied by three young men, Brody, Justin, and Thomas, who were long-time admirers of the girls. The floats all pictured stories and legends about the village, and people long dead. The atmosphere of autumnal colours and the floors of the floats covered with fallen leaves, gave an almost unreal air to the festival. Some of the participants on the floats threw sweets to the onlookers, and small children ran out to grab them. The night that Penny and her friends were celebrating there was a full moon, as was stipulated in the rules of the festival.

However, that year it was very different, because as the last float arrived at the end of the parade - the one that held Penny, Heather and Kathleen - there was a huge white explosion, which made everyone think the fireworks display had already started. The whiteness and length of the explosion went on for some minutes, until it began to fade, and an elderly gentleman was seen to be walking out of it. He was short, with abundant white hair, and wore a black coat with a dark suit beneath it, and a shirt with a flashy bow-tie at his neck. He carried an old-fashioned suitcase and an umbrella. He stepped forward and the mayor of the village went up to the stranger, and said, “Good evening, Sir. I’m Jeremy Jameson, the mayor. Who are you, and what are you doing here, Sir?”

“I’m known as the ‘Man of the Mountain’. That means that I spend my life going round the mountains to make sure that all is well with them.”

“Do you know of any other mountains like the one behind you?” the mayor asked.

The stranger said, “That isn’t the only one. There used to be more, but they had the misfortune to suffer from abuse and climate change.”

The mayor’s councillors, who had caught up with them, were not very up-to-date on climate change, and so made nothing of it.

“Are you planning on staying long in this area?” Jameson asked.

The little man didn’t seem in a hurry to answer, but eventually said, “Time is of no importance, and the only thing I can say is, that I’ll be here till my work is done.”

“You still haven’t said what your work consists of,” Jameson insisted.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough. Can you tell me where the best hotel is, please?”

“Of course. We’ll take you there. Have you booked a room?” Jameson asked.

“Yes, I did that before setting out this morning.”

“Did it take you long to get here?”

“As long as it usually takes,” the man said, as they all moved off in the direction of the hotel.

 

That night, in the bedrooms of Jameson and the councillors, their wives kept the men up till the early hours of the morning, questioning them over and over again about the stranger who had arrived in their midst. They got no joy with their pestering, and when they couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer, they got into to bed and slept soundly.

The mayor couldn’t sleep and went into his bathroom and wrote down some notes and questions for the strange man to answer, and then rang his men to let them know that everything was under control.

 

The young people who had participated in the floats and in the street dancing, hadn’t paid much attention to the newcomer, and went about the rest of the evening eating, drinking, and having a good time. The local eateries and pubs were very lively that night, and the owners were only too happy to oblige their customers with food, drink, and music, till the next day dawned. By that time nobody remembered the arrival of the elderly man.

 

During the following days the man, whose name was Merriman, walked around the area comprising the mountain and the village. He was a welcome figure because he didn’t create any kind of bad feeling. No one knew what he was doing there, and he never said anything to indicate what his business really was. The mountain continued to glow as much as it ever had, and there was nothing to worry about. Throughout history, nobody had gone up the mountain and returned because in its own way, it commanded respect.

 

The mayor had decided to call a general meeting, to discover what Merriman was doing in their village, and if he would tell them about the local history.

The ladies of the village prepared food and drink, the men set out rows of chairs, the podium was swept, and the hall was decorated with seasonal plants and flowers, which let off a woody perfume. At eight o’clock the villagers began arriving and took up their seats. The youngsters who had been in the parade were sitting at the back, knowing that the adults would be the ones to dominate the speaking. There was a large table and chairs on the podium, and after all the chairs were occupied the mayor and councillors, plus Merriman, took up their places.

The mayor stood up and declared, “Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. As you all know, since the end of the festivities, we’ve had living among us a gentleman by the name of Merriman. Mr Merriman looks after the mountains like the one we have right here in the village. Tonight he’s going to tell us all about the mountains. Please welcome Mr Merriman.” The mayor finished his introduction.

Merriman stood up, and walked to the microphone in the centre of the podium. “Good evening to all those here present. Once upon a time many, many years ago, there was a land that was covered with glowing mountains. Nature gave the glowing mountains as a present to the surrounding countryside, for light and warmth. Some people throughout the ages had thought there had to be more to the glow than was at first assumed. In the distant past, trees and other plants that didn’t grow anywhere else, flourished on the slopes of the glowing mountains. Those who lived near the mountains were lusting to create business from whatever they could, and they grabbed the fruit and vegetables that grew on the lower slopes - to sell. There were no animals, only food that grew out of the ground. The trees had nothing to offer either. When the mountain had nothing left to give, the cold winds came, and blew the plants away from the mountains - till they were bare. Heavy rains drove the topsoil down the slopes, and then there was no glow and no vegetation. Nowadays my life is spent travelling from one glowing mountain to another, with the hope that the villagers will take care of what has been given to them. Once the glow has gone, there’s no way of getting it back. It has to be respected, otherwise disaster strikes.”

When Merriman had finished talking, it was the turn of the public to ask questions. Brody stood up and asked, “Is the mountain an extinct volcano?”

Merriman replied, “No, it isn’t. There isn’t a fire inside.”

“Where does the glow originate from?” Brody asked.

“It’s the mountain’s life force, and without it the mountain dies.”

Justin, who was Brody’s friend, then asked, “Is it possible to get inside it?”

“What would you want to do that for?” Merriman asked the boy.

“To see if the glow can be returned, and for everything related to the mountain to be as it was

before.”

“That’s asking a tall order of nature. I have to say, I’ve never heard of it being carried out.”

A boy called Thomas stood up, and asked, “Are you going to stay here till the mountain dies, or do you think it will stay as it is?”

Merriman looked around the local citizens, and said, “I’ll stay as long as you listen to me. When you stop listening, it will be your responsibility. I can only help you for the time being, and no longer.”

 

The sounds of chatter, and chairs being pushed back and then stacked away, showing the meeting was over.

 

The mountain was glowing with less strength than usual, and that surprised some of those who were present, but not all. What nobody understood was, that during the night when all the world was asleep, the glow diminished till dawn. In spite of there being less glow coming from the mountain, some of the villagers walked nearer to the base of the mountain, full of curiosity about the mountain itself and the glow that emanated from it. Merriman was walking towards the mountain with the mayor.

“Merriman, do think we are in danger from the mountain?”

“No, the mountain is in danger from you. All of you.”

The mayor got hold of Merriman by one of his arms. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Mr Jameson, if the mountain dies, there’s no reason why anyone should stay here. It’s as simple as that.”

“Do you think the mountain is dying?”

“Yes, it is, but there’s still time to prevent that from happening. Everyone in the village has a part to play in keeping the glow of the mountain alive. It’s the glow that’s important. So think about it, and see what ideas you come up with.”

“Why is the glow dimmer at night?” the mayor asked.

“Because the mountain is regenerating itself for the next day.”

Many of the young people were still unaware of the message Merriman was trying to tell them.

“How can a mountain be alive?” Penny asked.

“Maybe it’s not the mountain that’s alive, but the glow,” Justin said.

“How near are we going to go?” Heather asked.

“We’ll go on till we see those who are at the front stop, and then we do too,” Thomas said, who had been keeping an eye on everything that was taking place.

The sky was the darkest it had ever been, and the dimmed glow was the only light they had. There was a sense of something throbbing inside the dimmed glow. Although it shone out into the night, the mountain wasn’t transparent, it had solidity to it. Those present stood in silence waiting for something to happen - but it didn’t. A gentle breeze started up around midnight, and the glow was getting dimmer and dimmer.

“You know what they say, Merriman?” the mayor said. “The darkest hour comes just before the dawn.”

“The dawn is nowhere near yet. The night has to get darker,” Merriman responded.

Silence and the whisper of the nocturnal breeze were the dominant forces that night. In spite of everything, no one made a move to leave. They were all suspended in waiting.

Some sat on the dry ground, while others sat on rocks. However, no matter what posture they had taken, all eyes were on the mountain. At around two o’clock in the morning, Merriman said, “We ought to go to bed. The mountain isn’t going to reveal its secret now, and dawn is on the point of breaking.”

The mayor, Merriman, and the councillors turned round, and walked back to their homes. The villagers followed on behind them.

 

Penny, Heather, and Kathleen, were on their mobiles in their bedrooms. “What do you think that was all about?” Penny asked them.

“Who’s that strange elderly man that spoke at the meeting?” Kathleen asked.

“He looked like some kind of magician or wizard to me,” Heather told her friends.

“I wonder where he’s from, and if it’s true there were once many more glowing mountains,” Penny said.

“We’ll never know, and at the same time it’s rather frightening,” Kathleen added.

“I wonder if the mountain will explode,” Heather said, with a tremble in her voice.

 

Everyone in the village was caught up in the ever expanding glow, which moved upwards and outwards, and in an instance - and the mountain and the villages around had all disappeared. The land where they had lived and the mountain that had glowed were now desolate. Merriman was the witness as to what had occurred, and which he had seen so many times before.

 

Miss Coombs, the teacher, put down the reading book called, “The Glowing Mountain.”

“Well, children what did you think of the story?”

“The best part, was the cover of the book,” said one small boy.