Della's Library

        John stood high on the mountain surveying the land before him. He squinted in the evening light and managed to spot the trail he was looking for. The sun was just about to set, and a glorious red and purple vista greeted his eyes. He took in a deep lungful of the clean and pure mountain air before he came back to his campsite, and his dog. Charlie wagged his tail as John approached, but hardly bothered with more than that. He was tired after a long day of searching the mountain top for the elusive trail that would lead to their hearts desire. 

   John scratched Charlie’s ear and called him a lazy old toad. Charley only looked at him, huffed and rolled onto his back with an eye roll. As if to say, “alright I know what you need, go ahead, pet my belly.” John laughed and did as he was instructed.

               When the fire died down and the large nearly full moon hung in the air, John poured the last of his tea over the coals and crawled into his tent, nudging Charlie awake so he could climb in too. They nestled together in the small vinyl space; Charlie’s nose pressed wetly into John's cheek. At around midnight, John began to snore and Charlie, startled and offended by this new development, let out a large wet sounding fart. John awoke gagging, launched himself out of the tent and out into the fresh air of the night. If dogs could laugh, Charlie would have been in stitches. Instead, he curled up into a tight little ball and fell back to sleep.

               John sat by his dead fire and looked up at a blueish expanse of star lit universe. The moon had begun to set, and John let out a long satisfying yawn. He checked his watch. It would be 3 soon and he knew that he needed to get some sleep this night. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to feel some heaviness, some sign that sleep might come back, cradle his head, and whisper sweet dreams into his ears. His eyes sprang open as if in direct disapproval of his fantasy leaving him feeling awake and restless. He pulled his backpack out of the tent and picked out one of the books and a flashlight. Maybe, he thought, I could read until I got tired.

               He found a comfortable position and opened the book.

               He woke to the feel of sniffling in his face. Charlie had evidently decided that the time had come for breakfast and John was, after all, the keeper of the food.

               “All right buddy, I’m awake.” He sat up, muscle protesting after a night spent on the cold ground, with nothing but a book for a pillow. The book was a hard cover and John could feel the line it left across his cheek. He rubbed at it absently and Charlie nuzzled his way into John's arms for some morning affection.

               “Thanks a lot buddy,” He muttered as he hugged the dog. “Did you enjoy the tent all to yourself?” he asked in a mocking but kindly tone. “You little jerk.” Charlie smiled at him the way only a Keeshond can smile and tried to playfully bite his nose.

               After breakfast, John packed up the campsite and loaded his backpack. He checked twice making sure that the books were safe. He considered how lucky he was that it had not rained the night before. He would have hated to have ruined the book he was so determined to return. It had been one of her three final requests as she lay on the ground, taking in her last breaths.  

               When life got hard, John would take a camping trip. He liked to be alone, he liked the wilderness but mostly he liked to pretend that the whole world did not exist. He liked to think that the world had ended and all that was left, where the trees and the animals. No people though, he could do without those. This time, it had been a bad break up that had sent him out into the woods, his beat-up little range rover packed with everything he would need to survive for at least 2 weeks. He had been doing this since he was a kid, learning early that one need not pack too many things if one knew how to forage and find what he needed on his own.

He had been out for only three days before he came across Della and Charlie, by that time, Della had been in terrible shape and there was little John could offer but comfort. She had fallen and the damage was bad. Her best years already behind her, she looked like a wizened old apple, bruised and misshapen.

It hurt John’s heart to look at her. He crushed up some pain killers he kept for emergencies and mixed them with his remaining water. He eased her up to a sitting position and built a fire to keep her warm. When the drugs began to work she seemed a bit clearer and they talked quietly into the night.

               “How did you even get up here?” he asked, knowing the paths were difficult even for an experienced hiker. She smiled weakly and said “Don’t let my age fool you, before this accident I was as sure footed as a mountain goat. I used to come here when I was a child. My parents believed the forest was the best teacher and would let me roam for days on my own. It was a different time.” She shifted uneasily and tried to stifle the groan of pain. Charlie stirred, putting his head on her lap, and whining softly. She scratched his ear and continued.

               “You will find this hard to believe,” she said tentatively “but there is a library in these woods. John looked at her skeptically and she chuckled, though that soon turned into a racking cough. She wiped her mouth and sighed.

               “I know it sounds strange but it's true. It’s only a small thing, carved out of wood and mounted to a tree but so few people know of it. When I was young, I took three books out of that library. To my great shame I never did bother to bring them back. Until now that is. That was the whole point of this trip” she said with a sigh and nudged the bundle at her feet.

“I have cancer” she went on “and not the curable or even treatable kind, I knew this would be my last chance. Had it not been for the fall, I believe I could have made it.” She coughed again, this time red spittle flew, and she wiped at herself, embarrassed. She took a sip of tea and looked John in the eye.

“John,” she said seriously “ I need you to do three things for this dying old woman. Can you do that?” she asked. John nodded sensing that his life was about to change. It could not be helped and John already knew he would do anything to ease this lady’s suffering.

               “Bury me here.” she said simply. Her eyes pleading. “Don’t try to go for help or try to get me rescued. I love these woods and I cannot imagine a better place to rest.” She eyed him, waiting for him to object but John only nodded again. Satisfied and with a sigh of relief she went on.

               “Take these books back for me. There is a map in the bundle. You will need to find the right path, but I feel like you know how to navigate out here.” John nodded again.

               “I can do that,” he said, “what is the third request.” He asked though he thought he already knew the answer. Her eyes filled with tears for the first time since he had met her and his heart clenched with sympathy.

               “Take care or Charlie” she said, a sob escaping her for the first time. At his name Charlie wagged his tail and nuzzled closer to her. She hugged him to her though that too cost her pain. she lay back exhausted, a look of acceptance in her eyes. She smiled weakly and whispered ‘I’m ready’ before slipping into one final sleep before the end.

It took a long time to dig a hole big enough, roots and stones made life difficult, and all John had to dig with was his poop shovel. He managed it though, and when his task was completed, he gently wrapped Della’s body into her sleeping bag and lowered her into her grave. Charlie whined and tried to get in the way, but John only held him and kept repeating,

“It’s ok boy, I got you. Everything will be ok.” Soon the dog quieted and together they spent one last night at what would be known as Della’s clearing. In the morning John rolled the largest stone he could find onto Della’s resting place and wrote her name and date of death on it. He knew the rain would wash the ink away eventually but felt he needed to do something. He scratched Charlie behind the ear and together they set off deep into the woods to find Della’s Library.