We Are The Mountain

Emmet was laying on the roof and enjoying his lifeless afternoon. The weather was nice during the past few days and it was his first chance to appreciate the warm feeling of sun on his pale post-winter skin. He tried to recall the last time he had time for this, to stop and amuse himself with this spectacular view he had from up here or the previous time he did what he was doing right now - neglecting all of his problems till they were way bigger problems and he was completely in tears. It was probably Noctober, the best time of the year, the Saturday of the year so to say. Last time while he was here, the bottle of warm wine rolled off from the edge of the roof and landed in a pile of leaves, gathered by Emmet near the oak tree, standing right next to his garage. Such awful mistakes shall not be repeated. This time he took some precautions - he updated his regular nest of blankets into a little bed with higher corners, so nothing would escape his radius. The red tile clay roof was slightly tilted downwards, making laying on it risky, but still relaxing. And somewhere at the back of his mind a little voice theorized that falling down wouldn’t be worse than dealing with his duties.

In the background a silent sound of his playlist was coming from his open bedroom window and Emmet was humming to the calm tunes. There were no birds, no clouds and no planes in the sky, only endless blueness above his fluffy curls and the realisation was melancholically frightening. So he shifted a little in his nest and sat up, resting his back at the chimney and looked at the mountain standing in front of him and the city, isolating it completely from the East. The setting sun behind Emmet lightened it while the rest of the world was drowning in its inevitable darkness.

Emmet lived in a disturbingly calm street near the river. He couldn’t see it even from his current position, because it was covered with other higher buildings and trees, standing between him and the water. His apartment was in the corner-house of the street, so the only neighbours that he had, lived in the house to his left. He knew only one of them. Well, what Emmet called “knew” was knowing that this person existed. It was a girl, whose bathroom window was right in front of his bedroom. Even if the little nosy creep in his heart would come out to play, he has never had a chance to take a glance at her through the window. It was constantly covered with delicate pink curtains. Only late in the night, when she would get back from work, Emmet assumed, she would grab a shower and move in her little bathroom back and forth, giving him a little before-sleep-shadow-show. He called her The Pink Window Girl. Emmet wasn’t the most original man on the planet.

The Pink Window Girl was “sort of cute”. Under this definition Emmet had in mind an attractive girl that was a possible partner, but something in her said that it would cost him much time and effort to get her and even as romantic and classical it sounded, at the same time it was off-putting. It was 21^st century, why would he make his life more miserable meanwhile the rest of it was already collapsing. Emmet turned his head to the left, to take a glance at the window and his eyes widened - the curtains were open and he saw her, dressed in loose clothes, dancing to his playlist. Even without the pink curtains and with an opened window, she sure as hell still deserved the title of “The Girl”.

It felt as a disturbance in the force, it wasn’t supposed to happen, it felt so wrong. The Pink Window Girl was The Pink Window Girl and that’s that. She was a constant in his life on which Emmet unconsciously based his inner peace. She was as self-evident, omnipresent security in his life as his favourite tiny bakery right around the corner, the oak tree near his garage or even his beloved mountain. And now she was gone, never again to be the unreachable Pink Window Girl. Now she was The Girl and Emmet felt oh so insecure about such change.

The Girl made a twist and turned her face to Emmet, with her eyes closed and little adorable fists, put in the air while her lips, hips and shoulders were moving to the rhythm. The light from the window played on her long brown hair and while Emmet starred at her, he came to the realization that suddenly she stared back at him. She gave him a quick smile and he swiftly tuned his look away. A moment later he glimpsed back at her and since she was still looking at him, Emmet smiled at her. He was caught in the act, there was no backing up, therefore he might as well make the best out of it. He was about to say something, when she suddenly spoke:

“I really like your music.”

It was said with an intonation, suggesting an apology for her dancing, but her face was suggesting everything, but an apology. She was smirking, waiting for his reaction. She was challenging him for a witty conversation and the timing - after a few roof top drinks - couldn’t be any better. He was about to open his mouth when she spoke again:

“Having some alone time?”

“It seems to be something exquisite these days, you know.” He was baffled, not knowing what she wanted from him.

“We have been neighbours for quite some time now, you know. You do this every now and then, but afterwards you look even more depressing than before. It’s not healthy.”

And just like this Emmet felt attacked, since he took his depressive mood seriously. It helped him to concentrate and to work. After such long time it even became a part of him.

“Someone’s a little stalker.”

“I know you try to peek through the curtains sometimes.”

He was searching for words desperately, but the previous feeling of an emotional attack made him snappy so he looked her dead in the eye:

“If you don’t like it, you probably should put on some curtains that are not see-through.”

“I wasn’t complaining.” She blinded him with her bright smile.

The bewilderment returned and he started at the mountain for a second, trying to come up with a good answer when she shot a question:

“What are you looking at?”

“The mountain, I love how in the evening it is still colourful and bright while the city seems to be already asleep.”

“That’s a way to look at it.” She didn’t seem to be impressed.

“How do you look at it?” Even Emmet heard the bitterness in his tone and he felt guilty at once. It wasn’t her fault he was feeling down. But The Girl didn’t seem to care, she was still moving to one of his songs and while making a spin she answered:

“It’s just a mountain. Piece of earth, a part of landscape. There is nothing magical about it.”

Just like that she became just a girl to Emmet. It wasn’t just a mountain, it was something he loved, something that he admired and spent countless evenings looking at. It was a little part of him, grounded in a marvellous nature frames. How could she even dare not to notice the attachment here?

“But I wanna hear your story.”

Now Emmet was utterly lost. This girl was standing still, with her elbows put on the window ledge and hands supporting her face. She observed him as if he was the mountain for her - inspiring, endless, meaningful. He saw the reflection of the sun in her eyes, the warm blush on her skin and pretty obvious cleavage that was caused by her bending body and upper arms pressed to her breasts. Just that frame of her, looking hopefully at him, waiting for him to speak, coloured in these romantic shades of the ending day was printed in his mind for the rest of the life. Because he was proud and arrogant, he sipped on his drink and made a dramatic pause before talking to The Girl:

“I have many stories to tell. Where do you want me to start?”

“Just the one about the mountain. You sit here at least once a month, listening to music, staring into nothing and then carrying on with your life. Why?”

Emmet turned away and looked at the mountain. Even if she doesn’t understand what he is about to say, it didn’t matter. She will never be The Pink Window Girl anymore. And he could deal with one another random girl.

“I come here when I feel down.”

“According to this logic, you should be living on this roof top.” She let out a slight giggle.

“How often do you stalk me?” Emmet laughed as well.

“Not too often. But you don’t laugh as you used to.” She pointed to his bedroom window. “I could hear you laughing out loud thousand times a day, for the past six months. You used to amuse yourself, no need for any company. Now you laugh only when someone is visiting you and even that laugh is not your sincere laugh. It is as if you try to hide your sadness. And something is different about you and definitely about your music. It became so sad all of a sudden.” She narrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side like a little puppy.

“I thought you liked my music.” That girl was rolling his precious heart like a dice.

“I do, because it’s so different from mine. It’s gloomy, effortless and calm. It’s sad as well.”

“It’s not sad. It’s thoughtful.”

“It’s depressingly depressing and you know it. So why do you look at the mountain when you are feeling down?” Something in her posture suggested that she won’t let him be alone and sad anymore. Which was annoying.

“I don’t see it as a mountain. Look…” he pointed with his right hand to the direction of the city and the mountain, wanting her to concentrate on them for a second. “Both the city and the mountain will fall into darkness in about an hour. And yet, the city is already dull, meanwhile the mountain is still enjoying its happy hour. The same is with people, all of us will die eventually, it doesn’t matter whether it will happen an hour later or an hour earlier. What matters is how you spend that additional time, which is left after all wars are won, emails are answered and unfulfilled dreams are passed from generation to generation. And I don’t want to be in the city, wasting that additional hour. I don’t want to settle with the first person on my way or search for happiness between legs of women that wouldn’t even impress me with what is between their lips. I want to be on that damn mountain!” His voice rose at once and The Girl turned to him. “I want to live to the fullest. I want to find that one Girl that I will love till the rest of my life, because I am still so naive to want to believe that she exists! I wanna deep conversations late in the AM, spontaneous road trips, have sex in the elevator, to hug her on Sunday morning from behind in the kitchen while she is making us coffee, get a dog together and name it Robin, start a family, trust her with my life, read her random things I scribbled during the day, tell her my stories and just simply love her. I want to be on the top of the mountain, I want to have my own happy hour one day, even if this shall happen only one time. I need it. I deserve it. But I struggle to get there. Every time I start to climb the mountain, I get smashed right back to this dead city, as if the universe is trying to tell me that I don’t deserve to be up there. And yet I try. And fail. Often. Too often. And this…” Emmet pointed to the roof. “Is as high as I can get at this point in my life. So to conclude, it inspires me. Every time I fail miserably, I get here and admire the mountain, my main aim, trying to gather motivation to carry on.”

There was a long pause after such an exaggerated monologue. Most people forgot how to properly feel, they are too efficient, too evolved to feel so insecure. Emmet was afraid to look at The Girl, this was the first time ever that he talked about it out loud. Short before turning back to her he took a long breath and even a longer sip on his drink. After this Emmet, as usual, got hurt and disappointed. The girl was gone, she just left.

“I don’t blame her, to be honest.”

He was done with the mountain and done with the girl, sadly caused not by the fact that he reached the bottom of the bottle. Emmet got up and started to pick up his belongings and blankets, when he heard loud music, coming from his left. It was a cheerful song, definitely coming not from his bedroom.

“Hey, where are you going?” The Girl asked from her bathroom looking at Emmet a little bit confused.

“I… I thought I bored you.”

“That was the most beautiful thing I heard in a really long time.”

His heart was still rolling in his chest while he stood there, on top of his roof with a bunch of blankets in his arms, balancing on both of his feet in order not to fall down. He looked at her desperately, begging for some answers and directions.

“What’s up with the music?”

“I thought it was setting a better mood for an adventure.”

“Adventure? Where to?”

Only then he noticed that she was wearing different clothes - jeans and a white blouse, her hair were put in a sexy effortless bun. That wasn’t helping him to get any clues.

“Let’s go on the mountain. Grab some things, I’ll drive.”

“But… So many questions.” Emmet tried to start throwing them at her, but she cut off.

“You want to be on the mountain, so let’s go. Quit failing, making excuses and being so sad and miserable. It’s up to you where you enjoy that additional hour.”

“This is not how it works.”

“Of course it is. Quit concentrating on being on top of that mountain so much. You forgot how it feels to be happy, what it is to appreciate the day till that last hour. You crave for something that you don’t even remember the taste of. How about I show you how to be constantly happy, how to be the mountain all day long.” The last sentence came out as a whisper, afraid of his reaction to such suggestion.

It was the first time that Emmet was in charge of the conversation. He didn’t agree to most of what she said. He had his right to be sad and to feel down. But she had that positivity, naivety and energy which Emmet lost years ago. She believed in something bigger and it was fascinating. There was nothing bigger left for Emmet, of that he was sure. He was still chasing those glimpses of satisfaction only because it was a habit, a routine and if not for that, what was he supposed to live for?

He let the blankets fall into his room through the roof window and looked at the girl. He smiled at her with an honest smile, he will let her try to amuse him.

“I’ll be at your house in a minute.” Emmet said and climbed through the window.

“Just one quick question.”

“Anything.”

“What were you dreaming about last night? You started to laugh in the middle of the night and woke me up.”

How thin are her walls? Emmet was asking himself.

“Tonight? I don’t know, let me think… Oh, I know. I was the host of one late night show and the guests of the night were three spiders that big.” He held his hand at the height of his hips and she seemed to be disgusted.

“How is that funny?”

“You didn’t hear the best part. I was a little bit afraid of them, because they move so fast and could kill me in an instant, so I tried to avoid having them in the studio by closing the door, but they were so happy to be there that they basically broke the door to come inside. But it was cool, 'cause they were invited. Then they ran on the stage and jumped on the couch up and down, because they were so excited to be on my show, since I’m such a great host, of course. Anyhow, they had a blast and we had a terrific interview.” Both of them were smiling at each other now.

“One last quick question.”

“Sure.”

“Why would anyone invite three enormous spiders for an interview?”

“They were in a band, I guess. Imagine a spider at a drum set. How cool would that be?”

She laughed and pointed to the mountain.

“We should be going. The sun is setting. I’ll meet you at my car.”

Emmet nodded and closed the window. He grabbed his keys, one of the blankets and some snacks. He lingered in the doorway before leaving the house. It felt wrong to interfere with the mountain.