“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Is anybody there?”
Silence. Only the sound of trees whipped about by the wind. And somewhere, tucked away in the deepest crevice of the forest, a crow calling out to nobody.
The man was not in distress. His situation, albeit unpleasant, could be much worse. Fear, war, loss and death had all taken their place in his soul. Hanging from the edge of a mountain was miniscule. But his muscles were not all that they used to be, and it did seem unrealistic that he could continue hanging on much longer. He called out again.
“Hello… Is anybody up there?”
Silence. Then, a rustling of leaves.
“I am up here.” a woman’s voice.
“Oh! So you are. Darling, would you mind giving me a lift?”
“I am not ‘darling.’”
A tinge of guilt plagued the man, but more prominent was his awareness of the setting sun.
“Right. My apologies, it was not my intention to offend you. I was only wondering if you could give me a quick lift up.”
“It would not be a quick lift. I possess many strengths, but muscle is not one of them. It would likely take me several moments and a great deal of heaving to drag you up. Not to mention I risk falling myself. Then where would we be.”
“I have money… only fourteen pounds, but it’s something. It’s yours if you help-”
“Money is just metal. I have no interest in it.”
“You’ve no interest in money? Money can get you anything. You don’t want anything?”
“I want nothing that money can give me.”
“Money can give you anything-”
“You cannot eat money. One day, you will realize this.”
“…Yes.” muttered the man. “Who are you anyway? What is your name?”
“Names hold no importance.”
“Alright, well so be it. Money and names are useless then. Understood.” The man sighed deeply. “Your hand, however, is of great importance to me. Could you please, please, help me up?”
“You seem to think I walk around these woods looking for men in distress. I am not in an ideal state of being either.”
“Oh?”
“You would rather not be hanging off the cliff. Yes?”
“Well-”
“I would rather not be talking to the man who is hanging off the cliff. Any possibility for interesting conversation is stunted by the topic of your predicament. You are not the only one who has suffered, although I know you think that you are. I had to hike the mountain too, you know.”
“Nobody has to do anything they do not wish to.”
The Woman laughed. There was aching in its echo.
“These trails are a part of me.”
“What does that mean?”
Silence.
“You, my dear, are being very difficult. Fine. I care not who you are, what you are, what your name is, or why you are this high up on this mountain-”
“I should be asking you why you are on top of the mountain. More specifically, why you are hanging off of it.”
The man felt a slight strain in his arms.
“I wanted to go for a walk.”
“Over the edge of a cliff?”
“I… saw a beetle. A tiny beetle, that flew around my head. It flew right down the cliff. I went to the edge to look for it… and toppled over my own head.”
The woman said nothing. The man was starting to sweat.
“Hello?”
No reply.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
He figured that she must have wandered off. She was no help, and a bit too enigmatic for his taste anyway. The burn in his arms crept in like cold air through the bottom of a doorframe. Perhaps letting go would serve him well.
“How would it serve you well?” Her voice rang out, closer and clearer than before. The man startled, almost letting himself go.
“Excuse me?”
“How would letting go serve you or anyone else well? You would lay, smushed and bloody in the dirt, decaying into a shell of who you were. I doubt anyone would find your body at all; you would probably become the crow’s supper, or the bear’s snack.”
“I… I never said it would serve me well.”
“But it is what you believe.”
The man said nothing.
“I ask you again; how did you come to be hanging off this mountain?”
Her tone had eased. She was close, closer than before. She sounded as if she could have been sitting right at the edge with him.
“When I die the world will keep turning.”
“My love; it has always been like this.” Her voice was soothing.
“I did picture myself leaping from this cliff before I hiked the mountain. But once I reached the top…” The man felt his arms grow lighter. “I couldn’t do it. The trees… the way the trees sway in the wind… you can’t tell from the streets. You can’t see it on the low ground. But here, when you’re above everything… the world moves in waves, and it moves synchronously, as one. I am small. I do not matter. But-”
“You are part of the one.”
Then she stood, and her figure loomed over the edge of the cliff, gracing the man’s vision briefly. What she looked like is of no importance to anybody.
“You, darling, do not need me. You never did.” She smiled down at him. Then she turned, and sunk away from the edge.
“No, wait!” The man’s lightness turned to a surge of strength in his arms. With barely a grunt, he pulled himself up and over the edge, collapsing onto the dirt beneath him. He felt the cool earth under his fingernails. He felt life.
“Wait…”
But She was gone. She had melted back into the woods, becoming one with the trees again.
