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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2033653-The-Start-of-a-Great-Adventure
by wint
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Personal · #2033653
Story about two brothers. This is my first attempt at not writing in the first person.
The Start of a Great Adventure



Fighting a blazing sun Lee managed only a brief glance at his brother in repose on the stiff prairie grass and rocks before resuming his search of the valley ramparts for sign of his latest contribution to their hilltop redoubt.  Though he had managed to roll a fair number of stones from their perch, Lee was unable to identify even one for which he could lay claim.  On this afternoon elk hunting had given way to more familiar activities from their childhood which, having been perfected over their many years together, were napping and playing.  Their familiar roles were, George napping and Lee playing.



Ramparts being totally unnecessary for a hilltop off the Prairie Divide in the mountains of Colorado was no deterrent to Lee, for it was childlike curiosity that drove him to roll these large stones over the side of the hill.  "How far down the hill might a bigger one get?" he thought.  "What are the odds one stone might come to rest anywhere near another?"



These questions and a myriad more flashed through Lee's mind, including the idea of pestering George out his nap.  Pestering George was a favored pastime and about as much fun as most anything else Lee bothered doing.



Napping, being one of his natural states, was something George did extraordinarily well.  No matter the activities of the day, George seemed always able to make time for napping, but on this day he was struggling to close his ears to Lee's activities.



During their youth George had always been the bigger, stronger, and the more capable brother.  That had evolved over the years as Lee grew to a full four inches taller and forty pounds heavier.  After finding his footing, Lee's proficiencies and accomplishments in life now matched that of his brother.



Between them there was no prideful competition and no shyness.  Comfortableness permeated their coexistence and a deep abiding love defied description, and perhaps even perception for folks.  Only boys who've cried openly from having shared the sting of a father's belt, boys who have saved each other from dangers real and perceived, who have known the intimacy of brotherhood, only these boys know the nature of the love between these two men, now in the last days of their prime manhood.



As peers, George and Lee knew their individual strengths, and weaknesses and they adjusted their own prosecution in life to accommodate the other.  As smoothly as a transmission transitions power from engine to drive chain, George and Lee unconsciously drew life sustenance from their shared existence.



Moving in and out of consciousness, with reality swimming in streams of his dreams, George unsuccessfully tried to drive out the nagging sounds of rocks scraping the ground, pounding their way to unseen resting place well down the hill.  Jagged rocks created piercing pressure points where his body contacted the earth and itchy grasses pried their way through clothes, further pushing him towards awareness. "How can grass get through hunting pants and long underwear?  What in the heck is Lee doing?" George pondered.



Slightly shifting his position, so as to not risk any appearance of ending his nap, George peered at Lee through slits speared by painful sunbeams.  Though conscious, his mind was not yet fully functional, and he could find no rationale to what he saw.  Lee seemed to be searching amongst the rocks, for Lord knows what.





Raising to rest on an elbow, and closing one eye to block the pain from the sun hovering in a sky so blue as to only be seen from the highest elevations, George squinted at Lee and asked, "Aye God, what the heck are you doing?



As though no one had spoken Lee continued his quest, and having found a suitable stone, rolled it off the hillside with an air of one at a tedious, but necessary, task.



Their hilltop was one of many in a meandering valley running down a range towards the foothills of Sheephead Mountain.  From their lofty perch it would take a seasoned hiker a full day to make those foothills, and Lee thought it one of his goals in life to do that very thing.  Maybe one day, but not today.  For, beyond their current activities, today they were hunting elk.



His curiosity getting the better of him, George finally asked, "What the heck you doin'?" 



Having no reasonable response, Lee gave none and continued testing boulders with his boot.  Having found a suitable one, he gave it a kick and George had to further shift to a sitting position so he might see the boulders travel.  After the stone came to rest, in a contemptuous voice George said, "You ain't makin' much change on the landscape there buddy.  Likely no one's ever gonna appreciate your effort."



Lee mildly responded, "I'm doin' this for my own selfish vanity.  You reckon Michael Angelo gave a hoot what all them romans thought about his paintings?'



While Lee gazed upon his handiwork, desperately trying to locate any one of the numerous stones he had rolled down the hill, George was suddenly on his feet, crouching like a wrestler, hissing with demanding urgency, "We're huntin'!  We got a bull!"



As in their youth, when they had been filled with excitement whilst following their father's footsteps on a track, off they went!



Such was the start of their greatest adventure!





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