A Hot Chocolate Offering

John snowshoed past white skirted firs and pines on the North Shore mountains, noting the morning light blue sky giving way to cloud and obscuring the morning sun. Below, the city of Vancouver stretched out; shiny highrises and greenery surrounded by blue sea. He located their highrise in the West End, and wondered what his girlfriend, Caroline, was doing. She’d been distant, and it bothered him. 

  “Wait up, you keep racing ahead,” Raymond called. 

John stopped and shook a nearby branch and watched the snow cascade in a mini-blizzard, catching his skin on the gap between his coat cuff and glove. Shake-up, that’s what the situation between him and Caroline needed. Taking her out to dinner last night hadn’t helped; she’d sat with her shoulders hunched and insisted everything was fine.

In the morning, when Raymond had called and suggested snowshoeing, she’d encouraged him to go. The weather forecast hadn’t been the greatest, but he’d figured she needed space. As he packed, she’d handed him a thermos of hot chocolate. He’d felt weird about accepting it. Shouldn’t they have resolved stuff first?

“I’ve got to tell you something,” Raymond said, catching up.

“Maybe later. Looks like it’s going to snow, and the wind is picking up. Could be a storm. I think we should head back,” John said, thinking of his snow goggles he’d left in the car. 

“But I’ve got to say it now. ”

John stepped back, not liking Raymond’s tone. He adjusted his toque and said, “What?”

“Caroline and I, we’re in love.”

John laughed. “You mean you’re in love with Caroline. She’s not in love with you.” 

Raymond looked pained. 

“How long?” John shouted, though he knew. No wonder Raymond had insisted on coming up in their own cars and made some stupid excuse. 

“Since last Christmas.”

“How could you do this to me?” 

“We tried really hard not to.”

“That’s lame ass, and you picked now to tell me.”

“We thought it would be best,” Raymond said.

John jabbed his poles into the bank of snow and clenched his fists. 

“Bastard. You let me discuss my relationship difficulties with you.”

Raymond nodded and hung his head. “We wanted to tell you.”

“So why didn’t you?” He hurled one of his poles, and it nicked Raymond on his cheek and an angry red mark flared up. Raymond raised his hand to protect his face. “We didn’t want to hurt you.” His voice wavered.

“You should have thought of that before you doinked my girlfriend.” John hurled the other pole, but Raymond twisted to the side and the pole grazed the material of his coat at his elbow.

What an idiot! Thinking he could fix things with Caroline. Should have paid attention to his suspicions, but he hadn’t wanted to be one of those jealous, controlling boyfriends. 

With ungainly wide snowshoe steps, he plunged towards Raymond, who stood his ground, his quivering chin thrust out. Frustrated with the lack of speed, he kicked off his snowshoes, only to sink several inches down into the soft snow. “How could you, Raymond? I thought you were my friend.”

“I didn’t mean to. It just happened.” Raymond’s eyes widened under his red toque.

“Like fuck it happened. So you and her planned this was how you’d tell me.” John grabbed both his snowshoes and hurled them one after another. Raymond twisted and blocked them with his arms. 

“We both love you, man. We didn’t want to hurt you.” 

 “Fuck off! I want to be alone.” John picked up his poles. 

“I know you’re mad, but we should stick together,” Raymond said.

“You should have thought of that before.” John jammed his poles into the ground and retrieved his snowshoes and clipped and fastened them back on. He took off, determined to distance himself. Raymond would follow for a little while, but not for long. Now that he’d delivered his news, he’d be eager to contact Caroline. 

The overcast clouds swelled and darkened into deep gray purple, and gusts of wind slanted stinging snow into his face. He welcomed the numbing sensation and pushed on, fueled with rage and irrational thoughts of staying on the mountain forever. When he got down, Caroline would have moved out. He imagined her packing the moment he’d left, tense about how it would go with Raymond, and smashed his poles against a tree, bending one of them. Why hadn’t she told him herself? Instead, they’d let him try so hard with her. 

He pierced the snow with his poles and forged ahead, relishing the harsh weather. So what if he snowshoed himself to exhaustion and threw himself into a snowbank? There was nothing for him to go home to, and he didn’t like the images of violence floating in his mind.

A hazard sign blurred by snow cautioned against the trail going to the right. Better than getting drunk, he reasoned, and plowed on. Mad Raven’s Ridge took about two hours in good conditions. Now, possibly three hours if the storm kept up. A few tricky places, but nothing beyond his ability, and the thought of disappearing forever allured him. He imagined drifting into hypothermia and dying.

The trail jagged up and down, and no matter which direction he went, driven snow stung his eyes. He pulled his neck warmer high onto his cheeks and wished he had his goggles. Did Caroline, who loved long hikes, realize what a wus she’d fallen for? He should have known Raymond was up to something when he didn’t insist on going back to town the moment the sky clouded over. 

Why had Caroline fallen for Raymond? Sure, he was funny and urbane and enjoyed being a snob about wine and stuff, but he had a mealy, unattractive face. 

John wiped snow from his face and felt through his glove the coldness of his nose. The trail had leveled out, but he recalled from hiking here in the spring, a roped fence marked the edges of a rock bluff dropping into a ravine. Probably buried in snow drifts now. Sticking to the trail, he’d be okay. He slowed down and tested the ground ahead with his poles before he took each step, his bent pole at times threatening his balance.

If he perished, it would be their fault. How could Caroline do this to him? He wasn’t perfect, but he’d always tried his best, watching the shows she liked with her, and taking her out for dinners and remembering her birthday.

  The trail headed past the edges of a long abandoned heavy duty vehicle, its salient rusted parts covered in snow, which John remembered as a landmark before the trail headed away from the cliff ledge. He lengthened his stride, now out of danger until the trail turned back to the ravine.

A scream came from behind, and he staggered into his damaged pole. Raymond! What the fuck was he doing here?

He paused and then kept going. Suck it up, baby. You’ve got my girlfriend. I’m not about to carry you home to her. You can crawl out of here, you pathetic man! His words bumped into snow flying into his mouth, and he repeated them, spitting them out. He pressed on, ignoring Raymond’s continued cries for help, which diminished and blurred into the snowfall and muted. 

No sound, no Raymond, no Caroline. Just him, alone. People would believe he hadn’t heard Raymond, given the conditions. Their snowshoe prints would long be eradicated, along with his relationship with Caroline. No one would know they’d passed at the same time. He’d tell the truth; Raymond had confessed to having an affair with his girlfriend, and he’d been upset and thought they’d parted ways.

Ignoring the cramping in his calves and the signals in his brain telling him he needed fluids, he bumped into a fallen bough. He backed up and ducked to the right where there was more room to go under, but his snowshoe crampon caught on a buried branch, and he lost his balance and fell down a small incline. A small avalanche of snow disappeared over a ledge, and he recalled this was the point the trail went close to the rock face. Inches more, and he would’ve tumbled over as well. Shit, that had been close. He lay in the snow, catching his breath, and then inched himself back up to the path. 

He trudged back, calling out for Raymond, and listening. After several minutes, he heard Raymond’s voice and yelled, and with the two of them calling out, he located him. 

Raymond sprawled on the snow with his leg twisted behind him. “I think it’s broken.” 

“I’ll call emergency services,” John said, swallowing hard. 

“I already did. They said they’re busy because of the weather, but they’ll get here as soon as possible,” Raymond said, shivering.

“You’re in shock,” John said, taking off his own coat and tucking it around Raymond. He took an extra sweater out of his pack and put it on himself. At the bottom of his pack were his goggles. His hand came across his thermos and he remembered the hot chocolate Caroline had made him. He pulled it out and poured a cup and passed it to Raymond. He didn’t think they could be friends again, but it gratified him to see Raymond gulp it down. Anyway, he couldn’t have drunk it himself. He took a long drink from his water bottle.