Go to the Hills

Leanne asked for fiction; here's fiction. It's simple, really, nothing fancy or striking, but I like it. Maybe you will, too.


Somewhere on the side of the road in the north Georgia mountains he stopped the car. He reached behind the seat to grab the last beer out of the cooler, being careful not to wake Ashley. Quietly he opened the door and stepped out of the car into the night. The crickets and tree frogs chirped their discordant symphony from the darkness as he walked over to the lookout point. A sliver of moon cast an eerie glow on the gorge that stretched out before him. The trees around him waved their leafy arms in the breeze and whispered frightening words in his ear. In the distance he could make out vague, black shapes. The warm spring breeze found its way under his shirt and he threw his head back to drink in the beauty and the eeriness of the night. His thoughts tangled together as he remembered the first time his parents had taken him up into these hills. He had been in love with them ever since. He had seen the Rockies and the Alps. He had seen the green hills of Ireland and the creamy beaches of Hawaii, but his heart always brought him back here, to the rolling blue hills of his youth.

He glanced down at the can of beer in his hand and wondered why he had brought it out here. He certainly wasn’t going to drink it. His mind wandered again, wandered to his childhood. How long ago it seemed. He tried to separate the faces in his mind, but they blurred together, melting and fading, fleeing from his grasp. And then, everything was sharp and clear, like a camera snapping into focus. He saw them all – even the ones that he had not thought of in years. He saw them all just as they had been when he knew them. One face jumped out at him and he tried to place it. He knew her… “What was her name?” he wondered aloud. He could see her face clearly but couldn’t remember her name. Funny, that, he thought. He shouldn’t have forgotten her name so easily. He let the faces fade into the background, and they took with them a part of his life so far.

He wanted to drive. He wanted to drive all through the long night and watch the sun rise somewhere in these blue hills. He wanted to forget about work and life and the cares of the world, and just get away for a little while, with Ashley by his side. But Ashley wouldn’t like that, he thought.

He popped the can of beer open and stared at it. He almost poured it over the side of the overlook, but some strange urge grasped him, and he stopped. Slowly, without really thinking about it, he tilted the can back and let the cool liquid pour down on his head. It ran over his face and down inside his shirt, soaking him. When the can was empty he stared at it, trying to figure out why he had done that. Well, it didn’t matter; he was soaked and smelled of beer, now.

Behind him he heard a step on the gravel. A hand slipped into his – a small, gentle hand that he knew well.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said.

“I was.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s eerie,” she said. “And…yes, and beautiful, too.” She laid her head on his shoulder and felt the dampness of the beer. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, I just…well,” he smiled, “I guess I just needed a little shower.”

“Of beer?” He knew the quizzical look in her eyes without having to see it.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He shrugged and slipped his arm around her waist. They stood like that for some time, saying nothing.

Finally, he squeezed her waist and walked back toward the car. She followed.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“Why?”

“I thought we could drive off into the night and watch the sun rise somewhere in these hills.”

“Why not?”

He smiled, turned the key, and – with the windows down and the wind in their hair – they did just that.