Monday, October 1, 2012

September 2012 Creative Writing Competition entry. ? attila - My ...

From the ground below it looked for all the world as if the Witch?s Nose had acquired a ?dew-drop? as Pierre lost his single hand grip and parted company with the rock face. Just as he thought that had mastered the worst part of the climb and rounded the point of the ?nose?, a poorly placed belay cam had loosened and Pierre found himself dangling in his harness and four feet under the overhang.
?Sod it? he cried, in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and he took a moment to collect his composure as he slowly rotated on the rope.

It had been a uneventful climb until that moment of misjudgement and he cursed his stupidity. How many times had he told himself not to rely on cams placed ?blind? around corners.
?Rotten luck, are you OK?, called his companion from the safety of the small ledge eight feet below the overhanging outcrop of rock.
? No problem Bax!?, he called back reassuringly, ?Just sit tight while I sort it out?.
But quietly he was furious with himself. His predicament owed nothing to bad luck, it was simply sloppy technique brought about by uncharacteristic bravado.

Pierre rummaged through his equipment belt for an ascender to aid his climb up the rope. Once he got back up to his last firm fixing he could resume the climb. He clipped the ascender onto the rope and took a firm hold on the handgrip.
On the ledge, Baxter was busy fiddling with the belaying rope.
Suddenly, without warning, Pierre found himself once again in free fall until the rope snapped taut once again. But he was now a further five feet lower beneath the overhang. To make matters worse, the ascender had not been fully snapped on and had been lost, and his equipment belt had slipped around his knees.
?Bloody hell Bax!?, screamed Pierre, ?What are you doing ? is that rope properly anchored??
?Sorry Pierre, I was standing on the slack ? are you still OK??
Baxter sounded so casual in his tone that Pierre was beginning to wonder if his companion realised just what a predicament they were now in.
?For God?s sake man, just leave the rope be and stay still?.
Pierre twisted and reached down for his belt, but his efforts simply resulted in the belt slipping further until it was dangling on the toe of one climbing boot. As he slowly lifted his leg, the belt and aids slipped off, leaving him watching helplessly as it dropped over 300 feet and was lost in the scree.
Pierre swung silently in his harness, and this time did curse his bad luck.
From the ledge Baxter offered his commiseration.
?Oh dear?, he said ?that?s a bugger!?

Until this moment the day was going well.
Pierre, the experienced lead climber, had agreed to take Baxter, an office colleague of his wife, on a days climbing to teach him a few rock-face techniques.
Ever since he had found that climbing was Pierre?s passion, Baxter had nagged Sally, Pierre?s wife, until finally she had talked her husband into taking him on a climb. He wasn?t entirely a novice, he had told her, but would love the opportunity to climb with an expert.
The climb, a straightforward vertical route well known to Pierre, had gone perfectly. In fact, he was so impressed at how proficiently Baxter handled himself that he had decided on the spur of the moment to tackle the fabled Witch?s Nose, a landmark overhang slightly higher than he had intended to go.
And now, here they were, facing each other 10 ft. apart, one perched on a narrow ledge and the other dangling at the end of a rope.
Until the second drop and the loss of his equipment, Pierre had been pretty confident that he could handle the situation.
A short four foot climb up the rope back to the overhang, add a fresh belay, and complete the manoeuvre around the nose and the final 25 ft. of the climb. Now he was facing an almost 10 ft. unaided rope climb, with most of his equipment scattered over the slopes below.
This was suddenly a whole new ball game.

?Now listen carefully Bax.?.
Pierre felt almost comical as he rotated slowly around.
?This could get really nasty if we?re not careful, get on your mobile and alert the emergency services of our situation, we might need some assistance?.
?I didn?t have a signal last time I looked?, said Baxter casually.
?Well look again?, came the slightly irritated reply.
?Surely you have a ?phone??, said Baxter.
? For God?s sake. No I haven?t!? this time Pierre was irritated, ?It was in a pouch on my equipment belt, now stop pratting about and get on the phone?.
Baxter fished in his trouser pocket, took out a mobile, and nonchalantly swiped the screen.
?Nothing!? he said casually, ? And the battery?s low by the look of it?.
Pierre cursed under his breath, why had he ever agreed to take this useless idiot out in the first place. He reached up the rope, took a firm grip, and hauled himself up a couple of feet. Now all the weight was on his arms and he hung for a moment to rest. He took another twelve inch grip and repeated the process. As he slowly rotated, and the ledge came into view, he froze in his harness.
Baxter, a much larger and more powerful man than the agile Pierre, had put all his weight on the other end of the rope and had pulled almost three foot of slack.
?For christ sake Baxter, leave the rope alone? said Pierre agitatedly.
As much as would have welcomed assistance, this was simply putting an undue strain on the belay points, and if they started popping out he really was in trouble.
Baxter didn?t answer directly, just smiled sardonically.
?Just leave it to me?, pleaded Pierre.
?OK?, replied Baxter, and released the rope.

The jerk broke Pierre?s grip on the rope and he dropped the three plus feet that he had gained and once again dangled helplessly at the end of the rope. Worse, in a shower of small debris the nearest belay point pinged out and Pierre found himself even further below the overhang. If the rope carried on unzipping he would smash against the rock wall.
The two men faced each other across the space that divided them and for the first time Pierre felt truly helpless. He was entirely at the mercy of someone who he hardly knew, how had he allowed this to happen?

Neither spoke for almost two minutes. Baxter squatted back on his small ledge whilst Pierre slowly rotated in his harness. The wind, which until now had been remarkably light, was now beginning to gust as the early evening approached, and to the rotation was added a slight pendulum effect. This, and rising fear, was beginning to make Pierre feel somewhat nauseous.
Baxter was the first to speak.
?What bloody awful luck, Pierre old chap?, he said nonchalantly, ?still, luck has two sides, good and bad, but from here it looks as if yours is the bad bit?.

*******************************

?Can I be of assistance Madame Lacombe??
Sally turned from the full length mirror in which she was studying the printed floral dress held against her body and smiled wanly at the svelte boutique owner who had crept up silently behind her.
Sally, who was really only browsing, said, ?Thanks Marion, but I really shouldn?t be here, I?ll drop in again at the weekend, Pierre?s going away for a few days on business and I shall have more time then?.
She handed the frock to Marion with a ?Must dash, Bye-ee!?
Somewhat guilty about her abrupt exit, Sally checked the time and realised that if she was going to be home in time to get something hot for Pierre and Baxter this evening, she really did need to get a move on.

*********************************

Baxter squeezed himself back against the rock face and made himself as comfortable as was possible on the small ledge. Shielding from the wind he lit a cigarette and drew deeply until it glowed.
As Pierre rotated to face him, he shouted ?
?Baxter! Don?t just sit there, get on the phone!?
Baxter appeared to ignore him, but took out his mobile phone and flicked though his text messages until he found the draft that he had prepared earlier, he smiled as he pressed the send button.

******************************

Sally?s phone vibrated against her ribs in the inside pocket of her Gilet.
Of all people, it was from Baxter Gibbs. She read the text ?

?hi sal, just approaching witchs nose, fantastic views great climb thanks for organising 4 me. Pierre a bit off color, suggested we stop but it?s like he has something 2 prove. is he always like this? looking forward 2 this evning. Luv u
Bax,?

Sally read and re-read the text three times.
What on earth was that all about, and why had Baxter sent her a text when he was half way up a cliff with her husband?
As an office colleague he was known as an odd-ball, but he wasn?t the only one in the office. OK, he?d pestered her more than most, and his constant attention could sometimes be an embarrassment when her colleague?s teased her about it . He?d also tried it on in the print room once or twice, but that was nothing that she couldn?t handle.
Right now she was beginning to wish that she hadn?t given in to his nagging and let him into her private life. Thrusting the phone back into her pocket she hurried to complete her shopping.
She?d put Baxter in his place later at home.

****************************

?I thought you said you didn?t have a signal?, shouted Pierre, watching with frustration as Baxter fingered his phone. ?Do you or don?t you??
Baxter looked at him blankly.
?Have you ever thought how lucky you have been to have a wife like Sally?? he spat out, ?People like you get all the luck, and you don?t appreciate it until it?s all too late?.
?Sally! Sally! What?s Sally to you?? shouted Pierre.
?Everything when you?re gone?, taunted Baxter, ?Of course you do know that she want?s rid of you. She?s told me often enough?.
?You?re bloody mad, man, a lunatic. Contact the emergency services or neither of us will get down from here alive? screamed Pierre.
Baxter waved his mobile mockingly at Pierre.
?Let me tell you what is going to happen, old chap!? he shouted.
?That text to Sally told her that you have not been feeling well today, sowed a few seeds you might say. I?d planned for you to have an accident on the way down, but circumstances have done the job for me, I?ll cut that rope and you?ll be done for.?
?You?re bloody crazy, you?ll never get away with killing me. And do you seriously think that Sally would have anything to do with you? You?re out of your tiny mind!?
Baxter smiled grimly as he lifted a sizable rock from the ledge.
?A few bangs with this rock will do for the rope when I?m ready?, he shouted, ?And Sally will need a sympathetic friend when you?re gone, she?ll be putty in my hands?.
Pierre grabbed the rope furiously and hauled himself up until he lost his grip and fell back swaying and twisting in his harness.
He suddenly felt very vulnerable.

********************************

Sally dropped the bags into the boot, slammed it closed, and slipped behind the wheel of the VW.
Her phone vibrated, the screen read ?Mum?.
?Hi Mum!?
?Sally!?, came the querulous voice of her mother.
Mum!?
?Sally! There you are, where are you??
Sally sighed, her mother?s tone told her that this was simply a ?I?m lonely? call ?
?Just finished shopping Mum, Pierre?s bringing a friend home later for a meal, what do you want??
Sally checked her watch. Mother certainly chose her moments.
?Just a chat dear, what are you cooking for them this evening??
Sally groaned silently.
?Look Mum, I?m terribly late, can I ring you later??
?Promise??
?Promise Mum!?
A pause ?
?I?ll speak to you later then love ? Bye!?
?Bye Mum, love you!?
Three bleeps from her phone told her the battery had run out. She switched it off, dropped it onto the passenger seat and started the engine.

****************************

Baxter dialled Sally?s number.
After a pause ??The person you are calling is unavailable?.
He cursed under his breath, placed the phone in a crack in the rock, and picked up the large rock. First things first.
?Time to go old chap?, he shouted, ?I?ll tell Sally you loved her till the end!?
Holding the rope flat against the vertical rock face he smashed it with the rock. Pierre?s blood ran cold, he knew that no rope would last long under such an assault.

*****************************

Sally dropped the shopping bags on the kitchen table.
Picking up the landline phone in the hall she dialled Pierre?s mobile. Nothing!
Returning to the kitchen she plugged her mobile into the charger and unpacked her shopping. She then went upstairs to change out of her outdoor clothes and once back in the kitchen she picked up her mobile and sought out the text message from Baxter.
She re-read it, frowned, and pressed ?call sender? on the screen.
Ten seconds later the phone rang out but there was no answer.

*****************************

As Baxter drew back his arm to strike the second blow his phone vibrated in the rock fissure. Startled by the unexpected interruption, he missed the rope with the rock and slammed it hard into the rock face causing it to split in two. A sharp pain shot up his arm with the force of the blow and a shard from the fractured rock speared into his eye socket.
As the slow rotation brought the ledge into Pierre?s view, he watched with horror as Baxter, clutching his arm and half blinded with pain lost his footing and fell backwards from the ledge and vanished into the gathering gloom beneath his feet.
He had gone so quietly and quickly that it was only after a shocked Pierre had completed another slow revolution, and heard the distant thud of a body hitting the scree below, that he began to realise that the immediate threat to his life had been lifted.

******************************
Getting no response from either Baxter?s or Pierre?s phone, Sally checked that her mobile was working by dialling her landline. As the home phone rang to confirm that there was nothing wrong with her mobile, she left the handset to fully recharge and started preparing the evening meal.
During the next 45 minutes she would attempt to contact both Pierre and Baxter on several occasions without success.
But it would be 10 p.m. before she rang the emergency services.

*******************************

Pierre rotated slowly below the overhang slumped in his harness. It was now dark and the cold was beginning to seep into his bones.
Anticipating that he would not be found before daybreak, he resigned himself to a long cold wait and thanked God that it was July and not January.
The phone wedged in the cleft rang on a number of occasions but it?s sound only added to his feeling of helplessness.
Whether Pierre dozed or was simply overcome by nervous exhaustion he would never know, but he was awoken in the early hours by the whap,whap,whap, of a helicopter and the beam of a search-light swept across the rock face. He was blinded by it?s glare as he was finally spotted under the overhang.
It was to be three more hours before the rescue team from below reached him, and another hour before he was in A and E. With no obvious signs of any injury, he was soon resting in a side room ?under observation?.
There had been little time since the rescue to think of anything other than relief that his ordeal was over. But after a few hours quiet reflection, he decided on a story.
An unforeseen climbing incident had led to the death of his inexperienced partner. That would be his story and no-one would ever know the truth, least of all Sally.
The police would want a statement later, but there was nothing to suggest anything other than that it was the sort of climbing accident that unfortunately happens from time to time. A stroke of bad luck!

By early evening he was pronounced fit for discharge.
Sally collected him from the hospital and within an hour or so, in the familiar surroundings of his home and fortified by a few glasses of wine, yesterday?s traumatic events were but a bad dream.
Sally was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. It had been, as she said, ?A funny day today, so I?ve found something in the freezer?.
Her voice came from the kitchen ?
?Perhaps tomorrow we?ll go into town for lunch ? you won?t be going to work will you. A few days off will do us good!?
Pierre relaxed and let it all flow over him.

The phone in the hall trilled.
?I?ll get it? called Pierre.
It was Lorraine, Sally?s friend and a work colleague of Pierre?s.
?Pierre! I?ve just heard, can you speak?? said an agitated Lorraine.
?Briefly, Sally?s in the kitchen?, Pierre lowered his voice.
?Darling!? said Lorreine breathlessly. ?I thought I would have died when I heard, Are you OK??
?I?m lucky, really, I?ll tell you all about it when I see you, is it still on for the weekend? said Pierre hurriedly.
?Oh yes darling. My god, when I think what might have happened.?
?Really must go now ? love you!? whispered Pierre.
He raised his voice to the kitchen, ?Sally!, It?s Lorraine for you, pick up!?
Sally?s clipped voice came from Pierre?s earpiece ?
?I already have, your luck?s just run out!?

Source: http://my.telegraph.co.uk/attila/atiller/15997593/september-2012-creative-writing-competition-entry/

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