The Great Ski-Lift. Anton Soliman

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СКАЧАТЬ was a strong determination in her eyes. Clara wanted to be with him but seemed reluctant about staying in the valley.

      - I thought you liked living here.

      - Yes, in a way. When alone, I prefer being back here where I was born. It's different if married though...doesn't seem right to live here in isolation.

      He smiled briefly, amused that Clara was thinking of marriage:

      - You said that when you first saw me I looked like a beaten man... Well, I arrived here totally drained because I was not living well in the City.

      - I would keep you company though!

      Oskar found the woman's effortless sincerity unsettling.

      The two remained silent a few minutes. That desolate sensation felt on that first day in the empty forecourt returned: the kitchen turned into a barren landscape.

      - What's so strange about my idea? You're a fully-grown man who is afraid of being alone. I could keep you company. You looked so lost when I first saw you in the dining room. I felt like helping you, so I introduced you to my family, even used my grandparents to make you comfortable. Can't you see I've helped create a welcoming environment for you? One full of familiar objects to help you not feel so alone. I've been good to you, playing an important role; only one women with their innate empathy can really do.

      There was no faulting her logic but Oskar still felt a key element was missing. Her smile turned lopsided: - It's good to be honest in relationships. There is nothing magical about living together; I have outlined the situation in a practical manner.

      Clara was no doubt right, but her candid speech embedded in the conditioning of Tradition was something he was trying to break free from.

      - What you said about solitude is true and you know perfectly where I'm coming from. It's not just about being alone though. It's something worse: I live in isolation.

       - What do you do in the City? If that's not too indiscreet...

      Oskar paused before replying. He had never been very coherent in that regard. With hesitant voice, he tried to explain it in a sentence: My work serves no meaning.

      He got up for the beer mug on the mantelpiece, and returned to his seat adding: - Sometimes I think my work is not even used. Pieces of paper filed away only to be burnt a few months later.

       Oskar noticed the woman looked tired, - When I first arrived, I felt I'd made a mistake. When I saw you at the hotel though, I imagined you could save me.

      - Save you from what?

      - It's not easy to explain. Maybe I thought you had the solution at your fingertips ...

      - Strange, I thought the same thing too! - gasped Clara.

      The Connection

      Oskar stood facing the cable car's forecourt, a mountain bag and skis in hand. A light cold wind from the north had swept away the clouds overnight.

      The manager had happily met his request, after handing over the multi-year pass for the Great Ski Lift. He asked for a few hours to make some final checks on the plant. Oskar would use a guide to reach the plateau bordering the slopes. The guide was a local lad with a stocky build, also shouldering a sleeping bag and doffing a woollen cap.

      - Morning, my name is Mario and the manager said I was to climb with you until the plateau.

      - Great, when can we leave?

      - The operator has phoned the office to confirm everything is ready. We can already get in the cabin.

      From the booth's tiny window, a man gestured with his hand. The sound of whirring motors could be heard. The plant looked like a carousel that stretched upwards out of sight. The two climbed into an oval cabin and sat facing each other, on two plastic seats. The driver slammed the door shut and the cabin started to climb.

      - If I understood correctly, this plant reaches the plateaus – said Oskar to break the silence.

      - Yes sir.

      - How far is the Great Ski-lift?

      - We need to cross the plateau at the pass and then descend. On the other side runs one of the peripheral lines of the Great Ski Lift. We need to leave at dawn tomorrow to reach the Circuit's border roughly after midday.

      Oskar looked up at the last visible pylon, which was glistening with a particular light. As the cabin gradually ascended, the valley's landscape was revealed in its full imposing glory. From above, the village had blurred into a brown smudge of houses with thin tendrils of smoke rising.

      At altitude, the smoke seemed to form an evanescent halo hanging over the whole valley. A vast coniferous forest started slowly emerging until it filled the entire field of vision. The village was reduced to a small irregular rectangle. The panorama was breath-taking. His friend must have been awestruck heading downhill after leaving the Great Ski Lift.

      The cabin reached the last visible pylon, then the curtain of mist drew back, revealing a pristine world made of vivid colours. Oskar had entered a high resolution, incredibly bright universe. Higher the perennial ice formed a white band.

      Below, Valle Chiara had condensed into a reddish smudge in a sea of winter. On the other side, as the cablecar continued to rise, the great Sierra massifs rose slowly over the horizon. Underneath the cabin raged an increasingly uniform snowstorm, the conifers gradually grew scarcer until all vegetation disappeared completely, melting into a pitch white canvas.

      Oskar finally saw the plateau. High mountain summer pastures that rose gently to the two pointed peaks, between them another mast, perhaps the last, glinted faintly in the distance. He pointed to the spot on the horizon: - Is that the arrival?

      - Not yet. We are crossing the first plateau, which ends under those peaks. Behind that pylon, begins the second. At the end of that is our arrival base – answered the guide.

      He watched the landscape unfold behind the fast approaching pass. The first plateau rolled beneath them with a jarring shudder. The cabin passed over a snow covered bowl shape. The sky was striking, with a blue so vivid it seemed unreal. He perceived the yawning distance between him and the City, the places and sites of his penance, the malicious faces of his acquaintances. Memories of Clara were decisively blotted out by an immense green splurge, which was being smudged by the rising horizon.

      The world belonging to the innkeeper's daughter was only one of imaginary figurines: simple caricatures in a juvenile landscape, with a grazing cow, the pig, chickens and little plumes of smoke rising from chimneys on houses with every balcony proudly displaying flowers... That was all.

      The cable car ride ended after what seemed an eternity. The light breeze had turned crisp, biting at him. A man, supposedly the operator, came forward to meet the pair.

      - Morning, Engineer Zerbi. They phoned and told me you would be coming with a guide.

      - Good morning – said Oskar looking around – It seems you get plenty of peace and quiet up here!

      The man shook his head: - Mustn't grumble in terms of peace and quiet. I'd rather be down valley at home with my family. During winter the nights are pretty long here.

      Oskar СКАЧАТЬ