Chapter Five

    As the snowflakes grew in size and fell around me, I trudged carefully along, thankful again that I’d chosen to wear my knee high leather boots.  I passed around some large, snow covered boulders to reveal, not only the other side of the mountain, but also the sun, which now appeared to be rising, making the snow and the mountains a nice lavender shade with sparkles bouncing off.  There only seemed to be one level trail, following along the mountain and climbing steadily, covered in more and more snow.  I walked on for about an hour, getting slightly out of breath due to the altitude, cold and strenuous activity.  Eventually the path widened out to create a snow covered clearing and I heard voices singing through the snowy stillness.  Yes, singing!  Very lovely voices, getting louder with each step I took into the clearing.  I searched around, squinting into the blinding white, but could not see where the singing was coming from.  It sounded like I should have been right on top of whoever was singing but no one was near, just the swirling of the snow across the clearing.  Then, suddenly, I was right on top of someone, as a woman shuffled up out of the snow where she had apparently been lying!  I jumped back with a small scream and dusting herself off she looked up at me.
 “We have a guest!  Ladies, we have a guest!”  She called out and immediately the singing stopped and two more women stood up brushing snow off of themselves.  They were all wearing long, furry coats or robes as white as the snow, the only difference between them was a variance in the colors of the crystals lining each one’s hems, cuffs and pinned throughout their white braids. All three were waving their arms up and down gracefully and continuously.
The first woman had clear sparkling crystals reflecting off all of the sunlight beaming onto the clearing.  She spoke in a lovely angelic voice.
 “Hello!  Welcome to Monday Mountain.  My name is Splenda, these are my two sisters, Glimmer,” The one with lavender crystals gave a little wave. “and Hope.” The other, with blue crystals, stopped waving for a moment and smiled walking nearer. “We’re so happy to have someone visit our mountain, what is your name and where have you come from?”
 I regained my composure from being startled by the sudden appearance of three lovely ladies.
 “M-my name is Justa Smidge.  I’ve come from the hills of Sunday.  Karo brought me to the edge of the mountain and told me I might find help from some ladies up here.  I assume he meant you?”
 At the mention of Karo’s name the ladies giggled.
 “Is Karo still down there?”  Asked Glimmer.
“No, he rode off quite quickly.  Back to the hills.”
“Pity.  Had we known he was coming we might have set off the avalanche.” said Hope.
 “Now, sisters, then you would have caught Miss Smidge in it as well and that’s no way to greet a new guest!”
“Oh, you’re so right Splenda.  We’ll have to wait for next time.  We haven’t had some fun in awhile and it’s so entertaining to see him so panicked and nearly covered in snow!” Glimmer laughed.
 “Only to tarnish his armor!” giggled Hope falling back down into the snow.
 “They do love to torment the Colonel of corn.  He’s always so serious.  Life does need a laugh now and then!”  explained Splenda.
“I did appreciate his giving me a ride over and now I’d like to ask you ladies if you could possibly help me complete my journey.  I’m trying to get to Thursday.  I have a job to finish and need to be on my way as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, I believe we’ll do what we can.  Come with us.”  Splenda said, still waving her arms up and down, causing her furry, white sleeves to flap like wings.
Splenda, Glimmer and Hope all turned and began to walk gracefully across the snow to a large rock jutting out of the mountain side.  I followed along as smoothly as I could, my boots sinking into the snow, now above my knees, with each step.   As we rounded the giant rock, a large, white, palatial house appeared.  It seemed to be made of ice and was exquisite.  I gasped.
 “Is this your palace?!” I asked.
 “Oh!  Not a palace.  Just our house.  A palace is for royals and we’re snow angels not royals.” answered Splenda.
“Do you like it though?  Come on in, we do hope guests like our house, we’ve just had it finished with the last snow!”  Hope beamed as she opened the wide, icy door. Inside was just as magnificent.  At first I thought the entire place was made of ice but it wasn’t.  There were white fur rugs covering floors and stuffed stools that looked like snow geese and the walls were covered in what looked like lacquered snow, all glittery and slightly coarse.
 “Does it stay very cold in here all the time?”  I asked looking about me amazed.
 “Snow is an excellent insulator,” answered Glimmer.   “ Now you sit anywhere you like and rest your legs a bit. Would you like anything to eat?  We’ve got,  hmmm, Hope, what have we got in the kitchen to offer Miss Smidge?”  Glimmer asked her sister.
 “Oh!  We’ve got a new bin of lovely ice chips, snow cones of course, plenty of icicles in the freezer, or I could whip up a nice lemon icee and, well, now we’d have ice cream if the cow hadn’t frozen.”  At that Hope’s face fell a bit.
 “That was disappointing.  The ice cream was so good, if only we’d known you only got one serving per cow!  I mean how wasteful!  They should sell them with insulators or at least a heavy down over coat!  Something to make them last a bit longer.”  Agreed Glimmer.
 “Um, you’re not meant to freeze the entire cow.”  I interjected.
 Splenda looked disapprovingly at me and said “Now Dear, if you didn’t keep it cold the ice cream would melt and no one likes soupy ice cream!”
“Noooo!” agreed Glimmer “How would you ever get it to stay in the cone?”
 “Right, of course, so you have cones then?”  I asked, hoping for something of substance.  I’d had plenty of water along my way, I wasn’t interested in any more no matter what its form.
 I stomped the snow off my boots and set down my basket.  My bottle of water was now mostly frozen.
“We’ve just got done telling you we have no more ice cream, why ever would we have cones?”  Hope said, still waving her arms up and down.  In fact, all three of them continued to wave their arms and hadn’t stopped since they’d popped out of the snow in front of me.
 “May I ask something?  I hope I’m not being rude, but I am curious.”  I ventured.
“What is it?”  Splenda sat down next to me on top of one of the stuffed snow geese.
“I’m just wondering why all of you continue to wave your arms like you are?  Is it to dry your sleeves?  Those are lovely coats by the way.”
They looked at each other a little confused.
 “Haven’t you ever met a snow angel before?”  asked Hope.
“Well, yeees, I have, I suppose.”  I answered.  “In the winter, when we get enough snow.  When I was younger.”
 “And did you ever come upon a snow angel that did not wave her arms to make her sleeves look all the more angelic?”
 “Good point.”  I responded.  “Logically speaking, although I’m not sure we aren’t a bit short on logic up here.  Perhaps it’s the altitude?”
 “Well, that’s a matter of perception isn’t it?”  asked Splenda.   “And now, how about some of that lemon ice Hope, and then we’ll get Miss Smidge on her way!”
Over the lemon icee, which was pretty good, I’ll admit, they all asked several questions about my job at the haberdashery, never having jobs themselves, which I was more than happy to answer.  Then discussion turned to how to get me back on my way to Thursday.
 “We shouldn’t make Miss Smidge climb her way back down.  She hasn’t even got a coat!”  Said Hope kindly, smiling sympathetically at me.
“Nor a snow goose or polar bear.” commented Glimmer. “Ohhhh!  We could let her take the Avalanche!”
 “As thrilling as that would be, she’d be quite a mess and I’m sure she wants to remain somewhat presentable for the job she has to complete in Thursday.”  said Splenda.  “She’ll just take the lift.”  And she stood up as though it were all final.
Glimmer and Hope stood as well, arms flapping and I did the same, minus the flapping.
We went back out the way we’d come, through the heavy, icy door and all three bent to strap snow shoes made of very thick woven ice onto their feet.  They took another pair off of the wall and asked if I might like to use them, which I told them I very much would and I strapped them onto my own boots and we trudged through, but on top of, the snow.
 Down a little rise and passing a fluffy, white mountain goat, staring at us from it’s perch on a rock, we came to a basic ski lift.  Next to it was a gigantic silver gong with a button on a post beside it.
 “What is that for?”  I asked.
 “You see that other one way off in the distance there?  And then another even further thata way?”  pointed Glimmer.
 I nodded.
“Press the button and this hammer will hit the gong which will send sound waves which will reverberate off the other gongs placed about the mountain, thus causing our avalanches!  Terrific way to clear up some snow without the use of shovel or broom!”  She seemed very pleased with herself.
“Sounds fantastic.  I’d love to see it sometime.”
 “I guess we could set it off once you’re along in the lift.  Then you could view it from the bench?”  Hope offered, looking to Splenda for approval.
“Fine.” Splenda sighed. “Miss Smidge, up you go.  Once you’ve reached the bottom, climb on out and follow the trail.  It will lead up ‘round the bend and on into Tuesday.  I do hope you have a good journey.  It was a nice surprise to have you visit today.”
Splenda opened the little gate to the lift and I climbed on, settling my basket next to me.  The motor started up and off I went, swinging slowly through the chilly mountain air.  I looked back to see Hope pressing the gong button, a hammer come up to hit it and a loud gong sound echo through the mountains.  Seconds later a rumble started and snow began rushing and sliding and bouncing down the mountain.  Snowy mist and flakes floated up at me, but by then I was clear of it’s path.  It was a magnificent thing to see.
At the bottom, I opened the little gate and clumsily jumped off to the ground, landing on the snow shoes made of ice which had partially melted due to the warmer air at the bottom of the mountain.  Grabbing my basket, I set off walking along the trail until all of the snow and my snow shoes had completely melted and I only had leather straps hanging around my ankles.
       
          Remembering Splenda’s directions to follow the trail, up and ‘round the bend, I kept my eyes focused ahead waiting for the trail to curve.  Instead,  I saw ahead of me, a small building off to the right of the trail.  As I got closer I noticed it looked like a public sort of building. A store or eatery of some kind but without any door or windows.  I stepped off the trail and followed the building around one side and then to what should have been the back, except that is where I found a door and large windows and a big sign above the door saying “The Bend”, so then I assumed this was actually the front and went in.
As I entered the building, bells tinkled at the door and immediately a roundish old man, in brown pants, white shirt and a black apron, threw down a towel and rushed over to meet me.
 “Yes! There you are!  You’ve brought the buns!  I thought you’d never arrive!”  He said hastily, taking my basket.
“What?” I took my basket back. “ What buns?  Is this Tuesday?”  I asked the man.
“What?  Tuesday?  Of course not.  This is The Bend in Monday.”  He replied.
“Still Monday!  My but Monday takes an awful long time to get through!”  I said tiredly.  “I’m now really hungry and it looks like this might be a place to eat?”
 “Do you mean to say you haven’t brought the buns?”  The man asked gruffly.
 “I do.  I mean, I don’t.  I mean, I haven’t”  I answer.
 “But you’ve come from Sunday?”  He asks.
 “I have.”  I answer.
“But brought no buns?”  He asks again.
“Should I have?  Have you got anything here to eat?”  I ask in return.
 “Well now, how could I if you say you haven’t brought the buns from Sunday?  I’ve been here waiting and waiting and you’ve brought no buns!” he shouts.
“Er, right, well, I did make some but gave most of them to Mr. Curmudgeon, then there was tee dotting and the well to tour, the Mayor sent me on to Sunday where there was a joust you see and it didn’t end well and then...”
“I’m completely un-convinceable! So don’t even try!”   He cuts me off.
“Are you?  Ah, well, I haven’t got them.” I say. “So... so there Sir!”
 His shoulders slump and he resigns to go back to the counter at the far end of the room.  I look around and note four small wooden tables, each with four chairs stacked upon them.  A dusty piano sits in a corner and a large stone fireplace on the opposite wall, roaring and crackling, with two large rockers in front of it.
 I feel things have started off wrong and my feet inside my boots are wet and cold from the melted snow and I’ve not had a proper rest since, well, I’m not sure when.
The man is wiping down the counter with his towel trying to ignore me.  I set down my basket and take off my gloves from Karo and walk over to the counter.
 “I’m Justa Smidge.” I introduce myself holding out my hand.  He eyes my tableware rings, sighs, puts down his towel and grasps my hand in a friendly shake.
 “Solomon Swear.  I own the place.”
 “Well, Solomon Swear, have you by any chance got any cinnamon sitting in your cupboards?”
He narrows his eyes at me and answers “I have.”
“And do you have any flour?”  I ask.
“I do!”  He replies.
“Well, then, if you’ll allow me to sit and dry out my boots by your nice fire over there, I believe I can help you with the bun situation.  You see, I make an excellent cinnamon bun.”  And I might actually get something to eat around here! I think to myself.
 “I accept!”  Solomon very happily pulls forward one of the rockers and gestures for me to sit in it and then rushes off to the back of the building, no doubt to rustle up the ingredients I’ll be needing.
As we sat by the fire, waiting for the buns to rise, we got to talking about how Solomon had come to own ‘The Bend’.  Apparently he’d been a judge for many years but as he grew older he found he was allergic to powdered wigs and had acquired carpal tunnel from all of the swinging of his gavel.  So it was then he decided to quit the courts and retire to a life of leisure and eatery ownership.
A couple of hours later, my boots are dry and my cinnamon buns are hot out of the oven.  After eating one and taking another in my basket for the road, I thank Solomon Swear and exit The Bend, leaving my gloves behind, as they are men’s gloves after all and will probably suit Solomon much better, especially since he’s much closer to a snowy mountain than I plan to be.