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The Life of Mountain Hill

Mr. Mountain Hill is a Himalayan porter. He has been carrying heavy objects up the steep slopes of Mount Everest since he was a boy.

His father, also a porter, died a year earlier so Mountain has had to support his ill mother, a woman of extraordinary wisdom but feeble health. So feeble in fact that she has had to stay indoors throughout her life - the lightest breath of wind could break her.

When his father was still alive, Mountain had served as a shepherd for the family sheep. One day his father came to him and said in an inevitable voice: „If you can’t go down, you must go up.“ This thought was carved deep into little boys mind.

Another day, his father already gone, sheep lost in mist in midst of the mountains and mother as weak as ever, Mountain decided it was time to follow his fathers advice. So up he went. A backpack on his shoulders, another bag on his belly, one on his head, two attached to his arms and a sledge tied behind him, he went gorgeously. It was still a dogs work but he didn’t show it (and the pay was good). He did this for a while, for a while of 16 hard years.

It was on a cold November morning. A light breeze on his face, a glimpse of the rising sun reflecting from his retina, he finally said the deep words: „Everything that goes up, must go down.“

That was his last day as a porter. During the 16 years he had grown into a strong male – like a bull. Female bulls would have fancied her... During those 16 years he had also made some friends, made some money, lost some friends, made some more money and he was tired of it. He was dead wealthy, he was completely uneducated and he had only one friend (others had been lost like the sheep.)

The friend called herself Jane Mackidosh. She was a scientist, superimposed particle researcher to be exact. She had come to Everest because she was disappointed in urban life (and she had been fired for not superimposing the particles right.)

After arrival she had asked every Himalayan she saw what he thought about the so called superimposed particles. Not much it had seemed. Then she met Mountain. Mountain had never heard of those particles but he liked them very much. He liked all kinds of things Jane liked. She even liked Jane. Jane also thought Mountain was „interesting“ so when the icicles started to melt away next spring there was a baby crying before the fireplace in Mountain’s house.

There was also a wedding gown hanging in the bedroom. Some weeks after that sunny April day Mountain made an important decision in his life. He packed his bags. Kissed his ill mother and educated wife goodbye and descended to a school a couple of kilometres below. He was determined, determined (to learn) to read.

Down in the village, in the shabby schoolhut, enlightment struck him. Suddenly all kind of things started to make sense. He remembered the red sign from the day he had lost his sheep and he exploded to tears. Who could have thought...

Now, 80 years older than he started, lights are dim in his old house. Sitting in font of a fireplace he is writing his biography, remembering the three important steps in his life.

Now he knows why his son had to leave Himalaya…

In wrote this story in 2003 for an English Class at Tallinn School No. 21.

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