“Old man, can I ask you something?”
The old mountain man chuckled. “Now, Smoke, would you tell me when, for as long as I have known you, you have ever needed permission to ask me a question?”
“I’ve never seen you . . . uh . . . quite like this, before,” Smoke said.
“All right, ask the question.”
“Why hasn’t Duff said anything about you or the little girl? Does he see you?”
“Duff has his own reality,” the mountain man said. “And you have yours.”
“Reality? Is that what you call this?”
“What do you call it?” the old mountain man asked.
“I don’t know what to call it.” Smoke looked at the little girl again, and thought that he had never seen a more beautiful child.
Smoke turned to Duff. “Do you see this old man and this young girl standing here before us?”
Duff was down on one knee, adjusting the cord to the sled. He gave no indication he had even heard Smoke.
“Why doesn’t he answer me?”
“He doesn’t hear you.”
“How can he not hear me? He’s right here.”
“I told you. He has his own reality.”
“Are you saying I’m not a part of his reality?
“Sometimes you are and sometimes you aren’t.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Do you think that when a caterpillar is born, he knows someday he will be a butterfly?” the old mountain man asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Then let’s leave it at that. Just because you don’t know, doesn’t mean that it isn’t real.”
“All right, let’s accept this as my reality. How are we going to get up to the train? There’s no way up the side of this mountain. It’s for sure the avalanche has closed every passage.”
“Not every passage,” the old mountain man explained. “Come along and follow me. I know a way. Have I ever steered you wrong?”
“Are you sure the avalanche has closed every passage?” Duff asked Smoke. “Or would you like to go on and see if we can find something? If you want to go on, I’m willing to go with you.”
“You heard that? You heard me say that the avalanche had closed all the passages?”
“Of course I heard it. I’m standing right here.”
“But you didn’t hear me talking to the little girl.”
“What little girl?”
“Never mind. Are you game to keep going?”
“Aye. ’Tis for sure ’n certain we can’t turn back now,” Duff said. “You know this mountain, I don’t. But I’ve got confidence you can find a way up for us.”
“He’s got faith in me, and he doesn’t even see me.” The old mountain man snickered.
“Ha. He said he has faith in
“It’s the same thing, my boy.”
“Where is the little girl? What happened to her?”
“What little girl?”
“She said her name is Becky.”
The old mountain man chuckled. “Like I said, boy. You’ve got your own reality. Now, are you ready or not?”
“I’m ready,” Smoke said.
“Good. Then I’m with you,” Duff answered. “I’ll draw the sled for a while.”
The old mountain man led the way, trudging up the hill. He wasn’t wearing snowshoes, but that didn’t matter because he wasn’t sinking into the snow. The trail became much easier as they went through areas that looked as if a channel had been dug just to clear the way.
“Smoke, have you noticed something curious?” Duff asked as they made their way up the mountain.
“Everything about this is curious,” Smoke replied. “I’m glad to see that you have finally noticed.”
“How can you not notice this trail?” Duff asked. “It’s just seems too easy to be real, and I’ve got a feeling we’re going come upon a sheer rock cliff, or something else just as impassable. I can’t actually believe we’ve found a path that leads to the top.”
“It’s all a matter of reality,” Smoke said. “Yours and mine.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Apparently we have found a good trail, at least so far. But you may be right. We might wind up somewhere that is totally impassable.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Adele declared an open house on Christmas Eve. A huge, silver bowl was filled with eggnog, and cookies, fudge, pies, and cakes were laid out on the table beside it. Several of the town’s leading businessmen were present, though she had put out the word earlier the night was to be social only. None of her girls would be available for anything more than friendly parlor conversation.
One of Adele’s girls was playing the piano in the keeping room and a group of carolers, men and women, were gathered around it.
The Social Club was well decorated for Christmas, with staircase and fireplace mantel festooned with bunting and evergreen boughs. A large tree was decorated with ornaments and red and green rope, as well as candles. The candle flames were shielded by glass globes to prevent the flames from coming into contact with the pine needles.
“This is quite a party you are putting on, Adele.” Charles Matthews was president of the largest bank in Pueblo.
“If you can’t celebrate at Christmas, when can you celebrate?” Adele replied.
