Scott Mountain

By Bill Reamer

Scott Mountain is a sequel to Bill Reamers novel, The Dates. The story continues into the lives of the next generation with natural and supernatural ties to the past. The characters discover, as they maneuver down lifes winding path, that the path is fraught with crossroads. Each crossroad requires a decision, a choice.
In making decisions, The right thing to do is the right thing to do, no matter the cost. At times, the cost can be high. Choices always carry consequences. Love can be gained or lost. Friends made or enemies created. There can be joy or heartache, fame or shamelife or death. Once a crossroad is negotiated, lives are never the same. Lives will be better or worse, but they can never be the same.
If you believe More is Expected, reading Scott Mountain will fortify those beliefs. If youre not a believer, Scott Mountain can start you down that noble path.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496938923

Bill Reamer

I want to share a few thoughts regarding the purposes of my writings. You notice the plural form of purpose. Of course, for any publication to be read, you need a good storyline and then need to be able to relate that storyline in a captivating style. This is a common challenge for all writers and is definitely one of my goals. My other purpose is that I want my writings to impact the readers and compel them to make their lives and the lives of people they touch better and, in doing so, make our world just a little bit better place to live. Now, although I have listed these purposes in an order, they actually coexist equally. The challenge is not to sacrifice one for the sake of the other. That is the tricky part.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Confrontation Part 2

I am sitting here alone with mixed feelings. I want him to come home so that we can attempt to reconcile our differences. I know, that more than likely, there will be no reconciliation, and the wedge that is growing between us will continue to widen. Regardless of what might happen, I need to bring this to a head. I feel that it is up to me. It is my job to try and resolve this conflict. For us to survive, the tension must be removed from the air, and I must instigate it. I believe I can hear the faint rumble from the thumping bass of his car audio system off in the distance. Since he invested (and I use that word sarcastically) almost all the wealth he had accumulated on this car stereo system, sound has been the precursor to his actual arrival in the driveway. It doesn’t take long for my assumptions to be confirmed, as the sound grows more pronounced. I realize that I am now just minutes, really seconds, away from continuing a conversation that drove him to leave the house just a few hours earlier. The audio bass grows silent. I hear the tapping sound from his engine that serves as a reminder that we are going to have to have someone look at it, and then silence.

My gut tightens, and I can sense a case of the jitters taking over my whole body. I move slowly and deliberately from the living room couch to the foyer to ensure that there is a seemingly by chance, but definitely planned, crossing of our paths. I definitely don’t want him to think that this issue between us has completely taken over my whole being, my whole existence, which it has. I want it to appear that this is just a continuation of our previous conversation that is spawned out of our chance encounter in the foyer.

The front door opens and his thin, lanky, athletic body, all six foot six inches of it, appears. He notices me approaching from his right. I sense that his pace quickens as he heads directly and speedily to the staircase, which will serve handily for him as an escape path from resolution. He turns his head briefly in my direction, utters Hi! and then bounds up the stairway effortlessly negotiating three steps at a time. As determined as he was to avoid any chatting, I was equally, if not more, determined to make sure it took place.

Jake, I blurted, catching him midway in his ascent up the stairs. I need you to come down here so that we can continue our conversation. I am amazed the words came out rather calmly and did not reveal the actual turmoil that is going through my insides. I could have said, finish our conversation but continue sounded less threatening. I know I am anguishing and quibbling over word selection, but I know that anything spoken in a confrontational manner will just widen the gap.

I really have some things I need to be doing up here! He spoke without turning around or disrupting his ascent.

It can wait. Now, come back down. We need to talk.

Jake ignored my retort. I see now that my non-confrontational approach will have to be cast to the sidelines, and I more firmly state, Jake, you need to come down here, NOW!

Jake stopped, turned around, and as quick as he headed up the stairs, he moved ever so slowly down.

I don’t have any more to say. We both said what we had to say before I left earlier, and nothing has changed.

Well, things need to change. Let’s go into the living room and talk this out.

His body language provided an exaggerated indication that he was not going to be a willing partner to any conversation. As soon as we entered the living room, he lashed out.

Mom, I am 20 years old. I think I am old enough to think for myself.

Actually, you are 20 years old, and it is about time you started thinking of someone other than yourself! If I had any thought of avoiding conflict that was now out the window.

Mom, I don’t want to go there and spend my whole summer. I do that every year, and I am tired of it. I have things I need to do. I have my life I need to live!

Like what do you need to be doing that is more important than spending time with your father?

Number one, if I ever hope to get more playing time, I need to be working on my game. I need to be hanging out with the team, shooting hoops, playing, and developing my skills. I will be a junior next year. If I don’t make a move, the underclass guys will pass me up. I don’t want to look back and just say I was on a college basketball team. I want to be able to say that I played college ball and played a lot. I want to be a starter.

I know that is important, but your Dad needs you up on the mountain and looks forward to being with you. I am sure there will be time to practice some basketball.

You don’t understand. Coach Cahill has expectations about what we need to be doing during the off-season. He wants us involved in strength training, and he has each of us on the team scheduled for one-on-one skills sessions. I have two hours each week where Coach is going to instruct me on what I need to be doing to get better and to get more playing time. This is important. If I don’t do it, at best, I ride the bench, or even worse, I could be off the team.

Perhaps, I should go and talk to Coach Cahill…

Jake cut me off in mid-thought with an adamant NO!!! This was followed by a rather sarcastic I don’t need my MOMMY involved in this.

Jake, I will not allow you to talk to me like that!

Sorry, Mom, but why does this have to be my problem? You and Dad are the ones that split, and part of it was because you couldn’t live on that mountain anymore. How come I have to take all the shrapnel?

Jake, there is a lot more involved in our separating than me not wanting to live on the mountain. It involved issues with us as a couple, as individuals, and as a family. Your father and I are apart. We’re not divorced but separated. We did what we felt was best for all of us.

Make what you will of it. For all intents and purposes, you’re divorced. Now every summer since, I get dragged to that mountain. It’s the pits - no electricity, no phones, outhouses, horses and wagons, nothing to do but ‘work the timber’ and ‘clean the cabins’. There aren’t even bathtubs! I need to have a normal summer with normal, non-mountain people. You baled on living there. I don’t see why I can’t follow your lead. Besides, if it is so important to Dad to spend time together, why doesn’t he just come down here?

Jake, it is a long story, but your Dad just doesn’t do well off the mountain.

Once again Jake cut me off. Well, I don’t do well ON THE MOUNTAIN! You didn’t do well on the mountain. Plus, my being there can’t be all that important to him. I am just some sort of cheap labor. If he really cared, he would make it a point to get involved in my life. I have been playing basketball since sixth grade. Basketball is a big part of my life. How many games has he been to? In case you forgot - NONE.

Jake, he is interested in your basketball. I always send him news about your team, any articles that are in the paper. He asks about it whenever you are together.

Once a year he asks about it - occasionally in a letter. It isn’t important to him. I am not important to him. Now if you will excuse me, I really have to go study. With that, Jake bounded out of the room and up the steps. I heard a rather emphatic door slamming.

Wow! I was hoping that would have gone better. It is so hard being a parent these days and even worse being a single parent. Worse yet, it is me, the Mom, trying to raise a son! We just don’t seem to connect.

I know, when I was Jake’s age, I sure caused my parents some heartburn, but they were at least a pair, a mother and a father. I am sure that, through it all, they took turns supporting one another as I displayed my independence and strong will. I am running solo!

Kids really complicate the situation when spouses grow apart. There is a whole new dynamic. There is no equal sharing of the load. Guiltily, at times, I find myself wishing that we never had kids, but I quickly realize how selfish that is and recant. I know there are good times, but it just seems so long ago that anything was really good. Even when something bad is not happening, I find myself worrying about what is to surely come. It is truly Chinese water torture - waiting for the next drop to fall and hit me square between the eyes!

It is at times like these that I wish my parents were still alive. They didn’t always have the answer and, even when they offered something up, I did not always follow their advice. It was just comforting to know they were there to listen and interested in helping me work through whatever the issue might be. I know, even as I struggle with Jake, if Daddy was still alive, he could connect with Jake. He always did. I just feel so alone!

Okay, this is crazy! I am the adult here! Jake lives in my house. Although he is physically large, he is still just a kid, albeit a big one, but a kid nevertheless. I have never gotten up in the morning and declared that this day I was going to try to ruin my child’s life. I always tried to act in his best interest. I know the separation between me and his Dad is hard on him, but it couldn’t have been avoided. If we stayed together, our family would have had issues big time. I just know it. I think everyone knows it but Jake. I need to take charge here. I may not win a popularity contest with him, but I want to win on the side of doing what is right!

So, in his best interest, our best interest, I think I know what I have to do. Before I do it, I need to make sure I have covered all the bases.

CHAPTER 2

Coach Cahill

O kay, it is Armageddon Day plus one. Jake didn’t come down for dinner last night and didn’t have much to say at breakfast after our little riff yesterday. He has headed off to school, so that provides me with the opportunity to continue with a little due diligence before I implement what I feel needs to be done.

It is funny how some things just stick in your brain. I recall two years ago attending orientation for the incoming basketball freshmen. It was the second time I met Coach Cahill, but the first time I had experienced him in a group environment. I was happy that Jake was going to play for him. He seemed different from many of the other coaches Jake had played for (endured) over the years. No doubt he was interested in winning, but he also seemed to genuinely care for his players and his player’s families. Waukaka State University wasn’t the big time college that Jake always dreamed of playing for, but it was a post high school opportunity for Jake to continue playing a game that he really enjoyed - a game he really loved would be a better description.

At the end of the meeting, Coach dismissed all the players and just spoke to the parents. He talked about college ball being different from high school. He related the many demands that college athletes have. He talked about the pitfalls that are present as these young people start a dramatic transition into college/adult life. He talked about a lot of things, but the main thing I remember is that he stressed he wanted the parents to know that there was an open line of communication available to him at all times. After all he said, I am now joining with you in wanting the best for your child. He then provided us all with a hotline number should we ever need to contact him directly. The number was easy to remember, simply parents. No one but parents had access to that number, and all conversations would be held in the utmost confidence. At the time, I thought that was a nice gesture, pretty cool, but one that I certainly could never envision using. That is until today!

I pick up the phone, dial, and find myself still questioning what I am doing. I am actually hoping that perhaps he isn’t there. This is a very poorly conceived plan. After all, Jake really lashed out at me when I mentioned contacting Coach, but I do feel I need to assess firsthand what Jake’s risks are if he spends his summer on the mountain. I don’t quite know how I am going to broach the subject. The phone rings once, twice, three times. Well, he probably isn’t in yet. I am about to hang up when I recognize the rather raspy voice of Coach Cahill.

Good Morning Coach Cahill.

Coach, this is Mrs. Scott…Jake’s mother. OOH, that sounds dumb. There is only one Scott on the team, and it is not like we don’t know one another. I bet Coach thinks Jake’s mother is a complete idiot!

If he thought that, his voice did not indicate it. Hello Mrs. Scott. How are you this morning and what can I do for you?

Whoa, an opportunity to get right to the point! Coach, I need to talk to you about Jake.

There was a slight pause, and I detected a little confusion in Coach’s voice. Well, okay - is everything okay with him?

Yes, but no…I mean he is fine, but maybe not! He’s okay but…

Mrs. Scott, let’s just take a deep breath, slow down, and let me know how I can help you, Jake, or whoever needs my help.

Now I firmly believe he knows, without a doubt, that I am an idiot. I take his advice and take a couple of deep breaths and then start to speak.

Coach, you know Jake’s Dad and I are …uhhh…separated.

Yes. I know that. Don’t think I ever actually met Mr. Scott. Doesn’t he live up on the mountain, and it is kind of his mountain, isn’t it? It is called Scott Mountain!

Well, part of it is his. It has been in his family for generations.

I hear it is nice up there, very pristine.

I laughed. Well, very pristine but also very primitive.

I would think that the primitive part is what keeps it pristine.

I need to get back on topic. Coach, first off, if Jake knew I was calling you, he would blow a gasket.

Mrs. Scott, not knowing what we will be discussing, it is hard for me to guarantee that Jake won’t find out. I mean if there is something immoral, illegal or unethical going on, which would really surprise me with regards to Jake, I would be forced to get others involved.

Oh no, it is nothing like that.

Well then, we can probably keep this between ourselves. So what’s going on?

Well, since Jake’s Dad and I have…uhhh…been separated, Jake has spent each summer up on the mountain. He doesn’t see his father during the year. Really not much communication at all - a few letters here and there, packages on special occasions, but not a lot of interaction. As I mentioned, it is rather primitive up on the mountain - no phones, not much electricity, lacking most of the modern methods of communication. Summer is the time for them to catch up.

I think I am beginning to sense your dilemma. It is about our new summer practice program we’re starting, isn’t it?

Yes, that is the conflict. It is important that Jake and his Dad have the best relationship they can, even under these…uhh…conditions.

I couldn’t agree more. Family is very important.

I was so glad to hear him say that as I continued, In talking to Jake, he tells me that if he doesn’t attend these summer conditioning and skills programs, he feels that he may be dismissed from the team or may be relegated to the practice squad and the bench. I don’t want to see that happen. Playing college basketball has been a dream of Jake’s ever since he was in grade school.

Well, to a young person like Jake, basketball is also very important.

So, I need to make a decision but don’t want to hurt the family any more than it is hurt or destroy Jake’s dreams.

I see your quandary. First, let me set the record straight. Participating in summer basketball is strictly voluntary. Now, with that being said, the chances of a young man improving his skills and gaining a better status on the team are certainly enhanced if he participates. After all, we have this program to make our players better and reach their full potential. So, if Jake does not attend, he could fall behind. In fact, most likely he would fall behind. I can only carry so many players. I have five starters. With subs, we usually go seven, or maybe eight, deep. The rest basically play on the practice squad and may play a few minutes when we get way ahead. Unlike football, basketball has a pretty short roster.

I understand all that and I know Jake falls somewhere ahead of the practice squad but is not a starter.

In the rankings, Jake is our number eight guy - the third guy off the bench. Jake is a great kid, a great team member, but he doesn’t have superior basketball skills. He has good skills but not great skills. He has room for improvement and I think he can get better, but currently there are players ahead of him. He knows all this. I have talked to him about his status several times.

If he didn’t attend summer training, what do you think would happen to his playing status?

I really don’t know. I do know that nothing would automatically happen - like don’t do the summer training and you are not on the team! We do have some good new players coming in and would expect some of the existing team to grow their skills. So, there is a chance, if Jake doesn’t continue his development, he may fall back on the roster or maybe even get cut. I certainly would hope not, but I have to give everyone on the team a fair shake.

I understand the fair part, but do you think he could improve on his own?

Oh sure, there is always that possibility. What he would be missing though would be the observing and instructing of the coaching staff and me. We spend about two hours a week for eight weeks providing one-on-one coaching.

But the conditioning is something he can do on his own.

True - if he has the discipline, although it would be helpful to have access to some of the equipment we have. It is also a lot easier when you are doing this as a group, as a team. They encourage and challenge one another. They try to outdo one another. It builds great team competitiveness and camaraderie. His conditioning on his own is certainly doable. The tougher nut to crack will be improving his skills. Skills development will be pretty hard to do without some coaching oversight.

Coach, I need a way to make this work. I know there are no guarantees, but there wouldn’t be any guarantees even if he attended the summer sessions. Right?

Mrs. Scott, you are correct. There are no guarantees either way. As a coach, I constantly weigh the probabilities, and the summer sessions, quite honestly, carry the highest probability of Jake continuing his college basketball career.

Coach, I appreciate your time and you sharing your insight with me. I think I have what I need in order to evaluate what we need to do.

Mrs. Scott, I just want what is best for Jake. Waukaka basketball will exist for a long time with or without him, as it will with or without me. In the whole scheme of things, it is just a game. That is hard for a young person to understand. I will support you and Jake any way I can, whatever the decision that you reach as a family, and you must reach it as a family. With all due respect, this isn’t your decision to make. It needs to be a resolution that the family comes to. If you don’t reach this as a family, there will be hurt!

Thanks Coach, and please, not a word of this to Jake.

I don’t see any reason why Jake needs to be told about our conversation. Thanks for calling. If you have any other questions or wish to discuss further, you can call me at any time.

I sure will, thanks again, I respond and hang up the phone.

At least, I am better informed now. Still don’t know what I am going to do, but, of all that coach said, one of his last phrases keeps playing over in my mind - "whatever the decision that you reach as a family". Coach is right. I probably can’t dictate on this one. I probably shouldn’t try to dictate. It can’t be what is best for me or Jake’s Dad or Jake. It has got to be what is best for the family as a whole. I don’t know what that is, but we, as a family, have got to figure it out.

CHAPTER 3

Putting a Plan in Place

S tep one; I need to get a letter off to Ian as quickly as possible. Communicating with him is so difficult. He has no phone, no Internet, no nothing. Occasionally, when he comes into town, he will call from a pay phone. I can also call and leave a message at The Mercantile, which is best described as a general store at the base of the mountain where Ian gets most, if not all, his supplies. The only problem with leaving a message is that Ian doesn’t show up on any regular basis. It could be a month or so between visits depending on if and what he needs. So, I rely on the US Post Office.

The mail is due any minute, so I am going to make it short and sweet. I’ve got to get this in the mail today!

Ian:

Need to have a family discussion. Jake and I would like to meet you at the base of the mountain on Saturday, the 13th. We could meet at The Mercantile. I will even buy lunch! If we leave early, I think we could be there by 1:00 PM or so. Please let me know as soon as you can.

Hope all is well with you. I got last month’s money. Thanks. You really need to get a checking account or send a money order. I get a little nervous with all that cash sent in the mail, but maybe I am just feeling paranoid. Hopefully, see you soon. Let me know if the date and time is all right. Thanks.

Okay into the envelope, affix my last stamp, flag up on the mailbox - whew beat the mailman. Now, I just will have to wait until I hear back from Ian. I am not even going to be looking for a response until late next week. Life will just have to go on until I hear from him. Surely he will be okay with the date. Surely he can give this meeting the priority it needs to have. Surely…I sure hope so!

A few days have passed since I sent the letter. Still don’t know if Ian got it yet or, if he has, if he has responded. I hate the unknown and the waiting. It drives me nuts. I like things to happen in a very rapid order, a chain of events with a quick cadence. Delays just increase my anxiety. It’s funny. I can stand out on our deck and see Scott Mountain. In fact, the mountain can be seen off in the distance from almost any place in town. It looks close. It is close, just a five or six-hour drive, but from a communication aspect, at least a communication with Ian aspect, it might as well be halfway around the world.

I mention to Jake that evening to keep the 13th open because there was a strong likelihood that we were going to visit his Dad. We do visit occasionally, so this isn’t something unusual. It is rare but not totally uncommon. Since this visit was arranged in such close proximity to our Armageddon discussion on where Jake would be spending his summer, I knew that he would be connecting the dots. I had braced myself for another battle, but it was not forthcoming. After I told him, he paused for a bit. I could see the wheels turning in his head, but all he said was fine. Not sure how this is all going to work out. I can see several potential scenarios. I am going to have to hold those thoughts for now. There goes the phone ringing in the kitchen.

I hate missing a call, and it always seems to ring when I am in the back of the house. As I sprint to the kitchen, I am counting the rings - two, three. I make it to the phone and pick up the receiver just as the fourth ring becomes audible. I just hope it isn’t too late.

I shout a slightly winded and rushed Hello into the receiver.

Hey, this is Ian. Is everything okay? You sound a little…hmm… flustered.

I am fine. Just had to run to catch the phone. I was in the back of the house. I assume you got my letter.

Got it last night. Didn’t know what to think, so I just decided I would come down off the mountain to The Mercantile and give you a call. I needed a few supplies anyway. So…what is going on?

Well, I am not going to beat around the bush. I am just going to come out and say it. Jake is balking at coming to the mountain this summer.

Is that all? I was worried that something really bad had happened.

I am a little disappointed in how Ian responds. No, more than a little disappointed. I am quite put off. This should be a big deal to him. I haven’t slept well for a week over this, and all he can say is Is that all?

Without checking my emotions, I exclaim, Ian, I think it is a big deal that your son doesn’t want to spend time with you. Then again, why am I worrying myself to death over this if it doesn’t bother you? I’ll tell you what. I am going to make sure that it doesn’t bother me anymore.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down now. Maybe that just came out wrong. It is not that Jake not wanting to see me doesn’t bother me. It is just that not knowing the reason for this out of the blue visit had me thinking about all kinds of horrible situations. Maybe he was sick or you were sick or maybe he got into some trouble…just all kinds of crazy thoughts.

Listening, collecting my thoughts, and now more thoroughly understanding the intent of his wording, I respond, Sorry for jumping on you, but I have been battling this for a week, and it is really getting to me.

Sorry that it has you all worked up. I am sure we can work this out. Is he mad at me about something?

No, he is not mad. It is his basketball.

Well, to a young guy like Jake, basketball is important, but I don’t get the connection between basketball and Jake spending the summer with me. I am confused.

How weird? This is like déjà vu. Those are almost the exact words that Coach Cahill said. Guys must all think alike! I continue, Jake is worried that if he spends the summer with you, he will fall behind in basketball.

Why does he think he will fall behind by coming up here? That doesn’t seem to make sense. Is the team doing something special this summer?

I don’t know the whole thing, but it is some sort of conditioning and something with skill training. I am not really sure…what that all involves.

Again, I really don’t totally understand the issue, so it was a good call by you for us all to get together and talk it through. I am sure we will be able to work something out.

I hope you are right, but I am not that sure.

Okay, let’s not over worry about it until we know we need to be worried. So, I am happy that you guys are coming, and I am looking forward to seeing both of you on the 13th. Is everything else okay with you?

Sure, I guess so. You know, just caught up in doing things, pretty busy. How about you? Are you doing okay?

Same thing here, we are keeping busy. I am trying to build a few new cabins, and we have to cut some timber. I could really use Jake’s help this year. He is actually turning into a pretty helpful woodsman.

After hearing that, I think back to Jake’s comment about the only reason Ian wanted him up there was for ‘some cheap labor’. Do I bring this up? No, I don’t think so at this time. He always has been a good worker. I think he comes by it honestly from as far back as at least two generations, you and Daddy.

He definitely does have some hard working genes in his DNA. That is going to help him no matter what he does. Hey, no more worries on this. This is something that Jake and I are going to have to work out. It is kind of a man-to-man thing. He is not a kid anymore, and maybe we need to be re-thinking some of the things we historically have done.

Ian, you and I are on opposite sides on this one. Sure, he has grown up physically but not sure that his decision-making has kept pace.

Well, we just won’t know unless we let him make some decisions. Right??

Maybe he needs to start with something smaller than deciding whether or not to have a relationship with his father! I know where Jake stands on this, and it looks like you guys will be ganging up on the only female at this meeting.

Ian laughed. Even if we do, you will still have a big advantage. I appreciate you…uhh…helping out on this and looking out for me, but please, I will be okay with whatever we work out - so no more lost sleep. I don’t see you often, and I don’t want to be looking at some zombie looking creature. You got that?

(Laughter) I’ll try but I only want, what I know in my heart, is best for all of us.

I know you do, and that is the only solution that will work for me. So, we are not on opposite sides. In fact, you, Jake, and I are all on the same team. He just might not realize it yet.

Glad to hear that. I have an appointment coming up and have to hang up. See you soon. Bye!

CHAPTER 4

Meeting at the Base of Scott Mountain

J ake, what time do I need to get you up in the morning? I want to leave about 6:30.

I need to get a run in, so you better get me up at 5:00.

Will that give you time for breakfast?

It should, but remember lots of protein and not many carbs.

I know.

Jake has become so disciplined in his daily run and diet. Here is a kid that grew up on hotdogs, mac and cheese, pizza, and playing video games all day and night on the couch. Now those foods never touch his lips, and the only thing he uses the couch for is to sit on it while he is lacing up his running shoes. He is taking this basketball thing very seriously. I am glad that he is, but the greater his seriousness, the more I fear the probability of Jake spending his summer on the mountain lessens. 5:00 is a good time though. I can get done what I need to get done and make sure I have time to prepare a protein-laden breakfast.

Once again, the alarm didn’t have to wake me up, and I noticed that Jake is already stirring.

He hurries down the stairs, putting in his earplugs and proclaims, I’ll be back in 45 minutes!

I get my tasks done, cook his egg white omelet and turkey bacon, which he ate entirely too fast, and we head to the garage.

I ask, Do you want to start out driving?

No, you had better. I have a final to study for. I can spell you down the road.

Here it is a few minutes before 6:30, the sun is out, the sky is clear, and we have a beautiful trip to the mountain in front of us. Not that Jake is going to be taking much of it in. He immediately plugs in his earphones and pokes his head into his textbook that is opened along with his spiral notebook sitting beneath it. I know that he has completely tuned me out, but it is for the sake of studying…at least I think that is the reason.

There is no traffic. We leave the city limits and immediately start a gradual climb and get into a rhythm of negotiating all the curves as we wind our way up to Scott Mountain. I have made this trip many times, yet with all the curves and bends, it never becomes familiar except for the ever narrowing shoulder and the ever steepening drop offs at the edge of the road.

Occasionally, I briefly take my eyes off the road to look at Jake. How is it going?

He turns my way and takes one earplug out and says, What?

I was just wondering how your studying was going?

Okay, I need to go over everything a couple of times, and then, if you want, I can take over the driving.

I am planning on stopping in Milford. Maybe top off the gas, make a pit stop and get something to drink. It would be good if you could take over then. I just hate that last stretch.

How far are we from Milford?

I would say about an hour or so.

That would be fine. I should be done by then.

With that, he plugs his earphone back in and isolates himself into his studies.

I am happy to see the Milford - 5 Miles sign. I look over to Jake. Jake, we are going to be in Milford in the next 10 minutes or so. You might want to start wrapping things up.

He nods to me but doesn’t provide a verbal response. Milford is slightly more than halfway, so I am glad that, with Jake driving, we will at least be able to talk.

I pull into the same gas station that we always use and tell the gas station attendant to fill it up. Jake and I both head to the restrooms. When I emerge, Jake is surveying the drink coolers and seems to settle on some caffeine laden, non-diet, and sugar-gorged soda. His health style has not reached his drink choices as of yet. I search for a caffeine free, diet beverage. Outside of water, there is none to be found, so I compromise my desires and go for diet and caffeine. Surely, this won’t impact me sleeping tonight. With all that is going on with work and Jake, I try not to incorporate anything else into my lifestyle that will work against me sleeping.

I hand Jake the keys and inform him that I have been driving about 45.

He rolls his eyes and says, That is probably why it is taking us so long.

Just be careful. This road is narrow and winding.

Mom, do you want to drive? as he extends his hand with the keys in it to me.

No, just be careful.

Fortunately, we get back on the road and, within a few miles fall in behind a logging truck. With the road grade and all and no real place to pass, I feel like I no longer have to worry about being involved in anything resembling open wheel racing at Monte Carlo.

We chatted back and forth as we traveled along. I think we were both doing our best to appear not to think about the topic that is the purpose of this trip. If we were in a poker game, we were both playing bluffs real well.

The last part of the trip seemed to go by quickly. I can now see the crossroads ahead that make up what all the locals simply refer to as Base. There is really not much to it. There are a few non-chain hotels that cater to the summer and winter vacationers and a gas station with rather outrageous gas prices. I quickly lean over to see how our fuel is holding out, and it appears that we have enough to avoid having to fill up at Base. There is Dinah’s Café, where we will most likely have lunch, Joey’s Deli, Mama Salerno’s Pizza Haven, a multipurpose building that displays multiple business shingles like Johnson’s Real Estate, Johnson’s Insurance, Johnson’s Law Offices, Johnson’s Land Surveyors and Johnson’s Construction. If you want anything done in this area, you will be dealing with Johnson. There are a handful of cottage style residential properties and two white clapboard clad churches on opposite sides of the street which look so similar they had to be built by the same people - probably Johnson. The only brick structure is the schoolhouse that sits at the far edge of town. It is a combined grade, middle, and high school. Jake went there for a few years.

Last of all is the most dominant structure, The Mercantile, located right in the center of it all. This is the spot where we are to meet Ian. This is a large two-story structure with a porch covering the entire front. On each side of the building are ricks and ricks of firewood. We used to supply the firewood, not sure if Ian still has the business.

The Mercantile is a one-stop shop. It is a grocery, hardware, building and tractor supply, clothing (mainly work gear but a limited supply of Sunday go to meetin’ clothes), and a large two line sign out front whose first line boasts, If you need it, we can get it. The second line, the punch line states, If we can’t get it, you really didn’t need it in the first place!

There is a huge parking lot that can accommodate large vehicles such as logging trucks, semi’s, busses, campers, as well as cars. Around back is an unpaved area that is allocated for horses. Jake turns in to The Mercantile and heads our vehicle towards a spot that provides a view of the horse area. It is about 10 minutes before 1:00, the planned meeting time, but I will be surprised if Ian is not already there. If Ian is not 20 minutes early, he is late. I immediately notice our, or I guess I should say his, wagon hitched to a gray horse.

It looks like your Dad is already here. I think that is his wagon, and it looks like he has it hitched to Mickey Mantle. Ian continued a quirky family tradition of naming their animals after famous people. Right after we were married, Ian’s Dad got a new mule that he graciously offered to name after me. I graciously passed on the honor.

Jake responded with a hint of disbelief or maybe dismay. That’s his wagon all right, but the horse is a mare - that’s Amelia Earhart!

All I know is, from my distance, it is a gray horse. I never had developed much of an ability to actually know or recognize the work animals. This definitely was not the case with Jake. From his past summers, he had much more of a working knowledge and, I guess you could almost say, a sort of friendship or camaraderie with the beasts. I just stayed away from them in most instances. I tolerated them as a necessary evil.

Jake parks the car, and we head toward the wagon. Jake walks up to Amelia Earhart who is occupied with drinking from the water trough, and I see her ears perk as he speaks, Hey, old girl, how have you been? He reaches for her halter with one hand and rubs her nose gently with the other while continuously talking to her. She appears to recognize his voice and nuzzles her nose in Jake’s hand. When Jake stops, Amelia Earhart lets out with a snort and shakes her head back and forth a few times before returning her attention to the water trough.

I hear a familiar voice, Here are a couple of faces I am happy to see.

I turn around and see Ian standing in the door of The Mercantile and starting to head our way. He looks great. His face exhibited the color of a person who spends a lot of time in the outdoors - a ruddy, tanned hue. He seems taller or maybe he is just thinner.

He is closest to Jake and gives him a combination handshake and bear hug. Jake, man you are getting tall. Will you ever stop growing? How tall are you?

Jake grins, relishing the recognition from his Dad. I’m 6'6 and now, from this vantage point, I can see that your hair is thinning a little on top."

Say, what! Ian responds while gently patting the top of his head. I am either going to have to get some lifts for my shoes or start wearing a hat.

You had better go for the hat. I don’t think lifts come that high, and you wouldn’t look good in high heels. I’ve seen your legs, and they just don’t have the look. Jake joked.

Whoa, it looks like I am going to have to take you down a few notches. With that, Ian’s hug playfully turns into a headlock, and he starts to give him a nookie - rubbing his fist into his hair. Jake breaks the headlock with ease and starts to go on the offensive to retaliate.

Ian throws up his hands in front of him feigning a defensive pose and solemnly declares, We better stop this. I don’t want to hurt you and have to haul you over to Doc’s. They both laugh.

Okay, it is obvious to me that these guys have a relationship and enjoy one another’s company. I am feeling perhaps there is a chance that we might actually be able to resolve this. I questioned an amiable resolution all along, but any friction that Jake showed toward his father at home was certainly missing here on the mountain. With their greeting over, Ian turned his attention toward me.

Mom, it is good to see you. You are looking well rested. He gave me a knowing look which I am sure was based on his comment in our earlier phone call. Jake didn’t pick up on any of it, although he was intently observing us, probably trying to assess whether Ian and my relationship could possibly rekindle. In Jake’s eyes, there could be nothing better than all of us getting back under one roof. One roof, that is, if that roof is down in the city! But I don’t see that happening.

Ian’s first few words to me also made me feel strange. I wish he had addressed me by my name and not by my family position, Mom. It was almost as if we, or at least he, had transitioned to a relational rather than a personal relationship. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me and gave me a big hug. I guess a hug is not always a HUG. I know, earlier in our relationship, there was some electricity, sparks that occurred when we hugged. This hug is so platonic. I feel nothing. Maybe that is because I am still smarting because he addressed me as Mom. I don’t know but can’t help wondering if he senses the sparks missing. He breaks the embrace off rather quickly, almost too