- Excerpt
WILD ANIMUS
by Rich Shapero
INTRODUCTION
The excerpt, below, is from the new book WILD ANIMUS by Rich Shapero.
The novel is set on the West Coast of North America, from Los Angeles
through Portland and Seattle up to Fairbanks, Alaska, and the wilderness
beyond. The text reads like a naturalist's impressions of climbing Mt.
Rainier, the Cascades, Mt. McKinley, and ultimately Alaska's remote volcano,
Mt. Wrangell.
The excerpt involves a confrontation between members of
a climbing party on the icy upper reaches of Mt. Wrangell. The main
character in the novel, Ransom Altman, has financed the expedition with
money saved by his girlfriend, Lindy. The leader of the outing, Harvey
Parrish, is a veteran climber hired by Ransom. The rest of the team has
been lured with promises of reaching the summit, but now Ransom wants
to change direction and visit a hot crater instead. Who will win this
icy cold showdown?
WILD ANIMUS was written, in part,
during author Rich Shapero's 400-mile solo trek through treacherous
mountain terrain. Set in the late 1960s and early '70s, it is an acid-tinged
climb through some of the most forbidding territory on the planet,
and ultimately asks, "Which
is more precious, a person's life or his vision?"
Confrontation on Mt. Wrangell
by Rich Shapero
Ransom woke in a smaller tent to find Skimmer sitting
up, watching him. Erik was dressing, silent and distant. Gloster was
muttering outside. The occupants of the other tent were already stirring.
Ransom laced his boots and crawled out. Harvey was putting zinc on, Gloster
attaching his crampons. Bull stooped over the stove, making breakfast.
At the edge of the camp, Yank was tromping the snow.
"Set up nicely," he said.
There was rime on the wands.
"Hard, but not too hard--" He
turned back to the tents, saw Ransom, and went quiet.
Gloster nodded at Ransom. Harvey
glanced in his direction, then turned and put his harness on without
a word. "Perfect," Ransom
said, gazing around. His breath was steaming. The rising sun reflected
off every edge and nick of the dome, as if the thousand eyes of Animus
were watching.
Bull glanced at Harvey. So did Yank and Gloster. Erik emerged from the
tent, realizing instantly something was up.
Harvey flinched. "Damn thing always pinches my nuts," he
laughed, tugging at the harness. "Thought we'd run to the top."
Ransom nodded. "I'm for it."
"The group wants to go for the summit." Harvey
gave him a regretful look.
"You mean the North Crater."
Harvey didn't respond directly.
He glanced eastward, at a tangent to the icefall, to where the serac
field gave onto smooth slopes. "We'll never get up the fall. We've got a chance of making
it if we do what we originally planned." Yank gave Gloster a look
of triumph. Erik knelt beside them, watching.
"We could follow that alley," Ransom pointed. "Get through
the rest of these seracs by noon." He stepped toward the icefall. "That
alley there--"
Harvey
dove for him, grabbed his parka, and pulled him back inside the safe
area. Ransom had walked right between two wands. "There's not enough time," Harvey
said, eyeing him sadly.
Bull turned to Ransom. "Even
the direct way's a stretch."
Ransom saw the forces aligning
against him. "Maybe
we forget the icefall," he said, facing Harvey's route. "Take
your way to the crater."
Harvey glanced at the others.
"Shit," Gloster said.
Erik made a disbelieving sound.
"Come on, Harv," Yank exploded angrily. "Show
some spine."
Harvey grew morose, upset by the
decision he was being forced to make. His instincts as a climber prevailed. "We're
going for the summit," he said gently.
Gloster stiffened and rose, expecting a harangue from Ransom.
But Ransom
just nodded. Was it the conversation of the night before, or his dream?
Or something that occurred to him just then? "Alright," he
said.
Harvey tried to smile. "You're
coming."
"No."
Harvey gazed uncertainly at the others.
Yank shrugged. "Ransom--" Harvey's
expression was troubled.
"Go ahead," Ransom said, understanding. "You've
put up with a lot." He scanned their faces with sudden generosity.
"It's the least I can do."
Harvey glanced at Bull.
"Maybe it's best," Bull
murmured. The sentiment seemed to seal things.
Skimmer stepped out of the tent. "What's
up?"
Harvey saw his duty. "We're
going for the summit. Ransom's staying here. What do you want to do?"
Skimmer turned to Ransom, stunned.
"Go with them." Ransom's
eyes were gentle and forgiving.
Skimmer
was speechless.
"Maybe it's best," Ransom
said, thanking Bull with a gracious smile.
Harvey lifted his pack. "Be back in eight to ten hours," he
told Ransom, "assuming the weather holds. We'll start down tomorrow
morning."
Fifteen minutes later, the climbing team was
winding through the seracs beyond camp. From his position ahead of
Bull near the rope's end, Skimmer glanced back one last time. Then they
disappeared around a block. Ransom stood at the edge of the wanded area,
watching. His set smile faded.
It had been a simple bit of duplicity, but now that he was really alone,
the magnitude of the idea that had struck him fell heavily on him. He
wasn't really sure he was going through with it. No, by dispatching the
others, he'd only bought time to consider it. He turned and stepped back
to the tent, drawing on his mitts. He found his pack and brushed the
drifted snow off. Then, abruptly, he straightened. What was he thinking?
It would be dangerous beyond anything he'd imagined. Insane, even for
him.
He turned in a half circle in a vague effort to ground himself. The
snow beyond the wands glittered with prismatic sequins that shifted
magically, winking out and springing to light no matter where he looked.
The vacant camp seemed shabby and artificial -- the stage set of a play,
for which there was no further use. He gazed at the track of the departed
climbers, then down the flank of the dome at the lowlands and the coast,
realizing how far he'd come, how removed from humanity he was. Instead
of giving him the courage to cut loose, it made him want to crawl back,
to beg Lindy and everyone else to pardon his foolishness. Then he saw
the steam.
From a blue depression beside the icefall, a white gyre
was rising into the sky. Heat! Animus was speaking to him from inside
the dome. Calling him.
Copyright ©2004
by Rich Shapero. All Rights Reserved. Please feel free to duplicate
and distribute this file, as long
as the contents are not changed and this copyright notice is intact.
Thank you.
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