Selected Excerpts from
Gone but not Forgotten

   "Do you think it’s sad," Annetta asked, "that those meteorites travel billions and billions of miles through space, just to burn up and disappear in a few seconds?"
    I thought for a moment, then answered. "I’d rather be a falling star for a few seconds than a speck of dust in space forever." Annetta nodded and I continued. "It’s better to live gloriously, even if it’s only for a few moments. I learned that from wildflowers and the snowflakes I used to catch on my tongue."
    Firelight danced against the tall snow-covered pines bordering the meadow.  I held my hands toward the fire and continued thinking out loud.   "Anyway, it doesn’t really disappear, does it? The falling star turned into light and heat, those are important. And snowflakes turn to water that feeds wildflowers. And wildflowers spread seeds that fill meadows with flowers the next year. And life goes on, doesn’t it?  And that’s okay.  That’s just the way it is."
    "And we remember things," Annetta added, "and that changes us, so we’re all tied together, we’re all part of life. So I guess it’s not a waste after all."
    "You can’t save up life," I agreed. "You only get to keep what you spend."

*    *    *

    Ski laughed. "I just made up that law of the jungle thing last night 'cause Ben was bugging me." He grinned, showing that it had been rewarding. "But let's see.  The meaning of life?  Yes, it's to be great.  I'm sure of it."
    "Oh yeah?  Like by achieving a lot and changing the world?"
    "Not necessarily.  That's how most people think of it, but that's just because of competition." Ski took another bite of pizza, then continued with his mouth half-full. "See, to be great in everybody else's eyes, you just have to convince them that you're better than they are. It's just a race, a game. It's fun if you're a good player, but everyone else loses.  It's all competition.  Me, I don't care about what anybody else thinks, so for me, to be great would be to please myself as well as possible."
    "And how do you do that?" I asked. I had entirely forgotten about the paper now--I wanted to understand this for myself. Ski's ideas were unlike anything I had found in any boring, dead philosopher's writings.
    "By doing whatever I feel like.  Usually, I just feel annoyed by stupid people, so I put them in their place."
    "Kind of like Socrates?  He was always putting people in their place and everyone seems to think he was great."
    "No, I wouldn't want to be like him—that's different. He's not my hero. After all, he drank poison rather than letting his friends buy his way out of prison. Thought he had some kind of duty to some stupid law. Why should I suffer because of someone else's retarded ideas? I would have just paid off the guards, gotten out of jail, and had a glass of cold lemonade on the beach. I hear they've got some pretty nice beaches over there in Greece."
    "And that makes life worth it—just doing what you feel like?" I hoped he was right, I hoped he would convince me. I sensed that there was some key here that might free me from my own stresses and fears and limitations and let me get on with my life without it feeling like such a struggle.
    Ski looked down at the table and thought for a second, just to make sure.
    "What else is there?" he finally answered.

*    *    *

    I found a small clearing hemmed in with a few small aspens and tall pine trees and stopped in the middle. I hadn’t seen anyone else for ten or fifteen minutes. I shut off the engine to listen for the sound of their sleds and determine which direction to go next. What I heard took me by surprise.
    The silence of this little patch of sunlight stood out in calm contrast to the screaming engines I had listened to all day long. The soft powder lay unbroken around me except for my single track coming in, and blue shadows rested unmoving, unflinching on its surface. The trees stood perfectly still and straight, and it struck me that this is what they did, day in, day out, for fifty or a hundred years or more. It charmed me, and I decided to try it for just a few minutes to see how it felt.
    I took off my helmet and lay down along the snowmobile seat, staring up at the blue, blue sky, letting the peace work its way inside. Nature is my passion.
    I wanted this day to last forever. I wanted Christmas vacation to last forever. I didn’t want Annetta to move away, and I didn’t want to end up gone and forgotten. But there was no use thinking about that now. My family would be here in a few days. I’d introduce Netta to everyone and build as many ties as possible. I’d try to make this a lasting relationship. That was the best I could do.
    For now, I would simply enjoy myself as much as I could. I would breathe deep and close my eyes to better appreciate the silence.
    I don’t know how long I slept, but when my eyes opened, the scene had changed. The tree tops waved back and forth gently in a cool wind. The shadows had vanished—or taken over everything—as darkening clouds raced across the sky. I shivered and sat up.

*     *     *

    "What happened?" Amy asked, looking up with glazed eyes. "It sounded like you crashed." Her speech came out slurred and slow.
    "I did."
    "Some rescue this is," she said through chattering teeth.
    "C’mon," I said. "Ya gotta come with me."
    "I’m gonna stay here," she said slowly. "It’s warmer here."
    Amy was slipping into the later stages of hypothermia. The freezing ground and wind that wound its way through these branches had lowered her core body temperature enough to slow her thinking as well as her speech. Her body was already losing its ability to generate heat and without any real protection from the cold, I was afraid it could be too late.
    "Come with me, Amy," I said again, taking her hands and pulling her up.
    "I wanna stay here," she said again, but didn’t resist.

*     *     *

*    *    *

Preview: Chapter One of Book Three: High on a Mountain Top

    "Room 121, this is your wake up call. It's 6:30."
    6:30 was far too early to be up. I knew it couldn't be more than 20 degrees outside, so I curled up a little tighter and tried to ignore Annetta.
    "Sir? Sir?" she called through the tent, then shook it vigorously. "Sir, are you alive?"
    "Yes, I'm alive," I answered, rolling over and noticing the depression my body had made in the snow overnight. It was still dark outside the tent. "Is this room service? Could you send up some hot chocolate, please?"
    "Sorry, sir, today's special is oatmeal. Would you like apple cinnamon or brown sugar and maple?"
    Even oatmeal in bed was more than I had hoped for. "Which would you recommend?"
    "I recommend whichever one I happen to pull out of my pack in the dark."
    "Sounds excellent, I'll take that please." My eyelids drooped shut again as Annetta’s footsteps crunched through the snow toward the center of camp.
    A moment later I awoke again as the zipper of my tent opened. I thought I noticed a little more light in the sky now. I could hear the sounds of others moving around camp and the hiss of camp stoves heating more water. Annetta stepped into the tent, kicking a bit of snow in with her boots, and handed me a steaming bowl of oatmeal. I sat up in my bag, reaching out for the bowl while trying to keep the bag sealed tightly around me.
    "Thanks! If you'll sit down for a moment, I'll get your tip."
    Annetta sat down cross-legged next to my backpack and watched as I ate. I finished, scraped my bowl, and closed my eyes. It felt good to be warm inside. "That hit the spot," I said, leaning down on one elbow. "Now for my after-breakfast nap."
    "How can you sleep, Spencer?" she asked, brushing a few chunks of snow toward the door. "This is vacation, it’s beautiful outside!"
    "Jet lag, I guess."
    Annetta just shook her head. "Crossing one time zone doesn't create jet lag. And besides, you gained an hour. For you it's already eight o'clock."
    "Must be the altitude, then. Without as much oxygen, my body needs more sleep to function."
    "We're only at eight thousand feet, there's plenty of oxygen."
    "Maybe..." I was running out of excuses.
    "Maybe you're just lazy," Annetta offered.
    "Yes, that's it, that's the word I was looking for." Netta laughed, then leaned forward to give me a kiss. I was a bit surprised, after the way she had acted when she picked me up at the airport yesterday. No matter, I was glad things were getting back to normal again. "Ah, yes," I said, sitting back up, "your tip, I almost forgot."
    Just as I closed my eyes, she slipped her hand behind my neck and dropped a chunk of crusted snow down my shirt. My eyes shot open. My heart skipped a beat.
    "Get up," she said, then climbed out of the tent, zipping the door shut behind her.