Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 28: The Metaphysical Shop

A bumpy, cold drive up the mountain the night before, on cold, hard leather seats, was a precursor to Tuesday.

Not a sound resonated through the massive, wood-beamed mountain home Victor slept in—at least he tried to sleep. Like his parent's bedroom, his overlooked the vast expanse of the Pikes Peak mountain range to the south, hovering in the distance above the glistening blue-black waters of the reservoir. To the West, millions of miles beyond the peak, the dim silhouette of Crimson graced the horizon, just about to set.

Victor sat in his window, nestled on a giant, red beanbag, staring at the planet. He had repeated the same position at least ten times throughout the night, unable to stay asleep for long.

"Can't sleep?"

His father, who had been standing in the bedroom doorway—God knows how long, Victor thought—leaned against the dark, oak frame, his arms crossed. Victor was startled by the sudden intrusion, but, he had left his door open.

"Curious, I suppose," said Victor, settling back down into the cozy confines of the squishy seat.

"About?"

"As curious as anyone else out there currently staring at the thing."

Victor tilted his head. The crescent of Crimson faded into the pines dotting the hills. The sun slowly brightened up the Eastern sky as night turned into day.

"Most people, like I said, will look at this with fear. Others, as a miracle, dad," said Victor.

"What do you think?" said his father, continuing to stand his ground in his blue plaid pajamas.

"Me?" blurted Victor. He had to think about this one. There were many valid answers to the questions.

Before he took his life on the mountain, he knew he would have looked at the planet with excitement, and dread, all at the same time. As Shadow said, "Nothing good would come of it." However, he had experienced a miracle—waking up to the sight of Seraph standing over him, and knowing he still had a role to play in life—, another chance.

He considered the planet Crimson as something in between an object to fear, and one to embrace for whatever its purpose was.

"I have to consider all sides," said Victor, still staring out the window as the peak brightened in the rays of the rising sun. "I think it will change the path of humankind, dad. What it is, I don't know."

Crimson wasn't alone, and his father preferred a more thorough analysis.

Victor continued. "The effects it may have on Earth are unknown and, with others due to enter the solar system, and what I think their influences can be, we're in for some major problems."

"You may be right," said Mr. Black.

A moment later, Victor's dad plopped himself down in the second beanbag, a blue suede version with white dots. He joined Victor in staring out the window at the brilliance of Pikes Peak. It had a fresh covering of snow, signaling the change in the season. It was also the first time in several months the fog and thick air didn't obscure it.

As the sun rose, an array of reds, golds, and pinks lit up the mountain top, and danced off what remained of the gold Aspen leaves still clinging to the stems of trees in patches among the pines. The only obstruction continued to be the billowing cloud hanging over the city, now dancing with the same colors as the peak.

"What do you think, dad?" said Victor. He felt so much more on his dad's level—like he was no longer sixteen, but had aged a decade, and had more to say, in the direct manner his father preferred. "Say what you think, I can take it."