What Lies on the Mountain Path

The children knew they mustn't go too far up the mountain. They knew their parents would be cross at their muddied boots and red noses. They knew the mountain hike was long and they'd be late for supper. And they knew most of all, the rumors of Old Binder.

But boyish curiosity prevailed over warnings of mythical beasts. The four boys, the youngest in their village, swallowed what little fear they had, put on their home-knitted caps and mittens, and began their trek up the mountain path.

"I heard Old Binder is over eight feet tall. With yellow teeth and fishlike eyes," one boy laughed.

"Well, I heard he runs on all fours, but looks human when the sun's up."

"That's kid stuff," Ruiny, the most sensible of the boys, scoffed. "Real men don't even believe in him."

"My dad said Old Binder is nothing but a bear or a big raccoon, and this whole village is full of bored nuts making things up."

"No way. Old Binder is real. My dad beat him up one night after school."

"Your dad's full of shit, Miquel!"

"Yeah, shut up!"

"It's true! My dad's super strong and the best hunter. We have Old Binder's head hanging above the fireplace!" Miquel retorted, but the other boys shook their heads, annoyed by their friend's lies.

They walked for over an hour until the slope increased and they were forced to use their hands to pull themselves higher. The rocks were slippery, but they had enough room for their feet to find grip.

The boys' hearts raced, from the exercise and the anticipation of catching a glimpse of Old Binder.

With one last tug, Ruiny nearly slipped, but Miquel held out his hand and pulled his friend up to the mountain's peak. They walked for another hour through pine trees and prickling waves of rock. Until finally, they reached Old Binder's cave.

"Shit!" One of the boys yelled, creating an echo that bounced back to the group. The boys, giddy with accomplishments, began swearing madly into the cave. That is, until a voice called out to them.

"Four children at my doorstep, what do you see?"

The boys froze. Miquel could feel for the first time the ache of his numb toes in the cold. Ruiny backed away. The other two boys, the youngest of the group, nearly began to cry.

Ruiny answered first, "Old Binder. We've come to say hello."

For minutes, nothing but the wind whisling in their ears alerted them to life on the mountain. Then, from inside the cave, the voice bellowed once more, "What do you see?"

Miquel took Ruiny's hand, but his friend had no strength to spare.

"We see...snow. Trees. Clouds. Lots of clouds," Miquel squeaked.

From within the cave came rustling, like leaves being brushed aside. Then, out into the orange light of the afternoon, stepped a man.

There were a hundred different tales of Old Binder. A hundred different boys from a hundred different families, all claiming to have witnessed an unearthly beast.

The boys were stunned silent as a handsome man, dressed in appropriate winter gear and a clean-shaven face, stepped toward them into the light.

"And you always believe your eyes?" He asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

A chuckle from the man, "Good. Remember to do so when you're old, and your countrymen reveal their true forms. Remain honest, and with certainty, your life will expand."

The boys looked at one another, feeling faint. The man stood before them and smiled. He patted the head of one of the younger boys until they felt at ease enough to laugh.

Exhilaration took over again. The boys cackled and asked the man questions about life on the mountain and the stories from their village. The man only nodded along, not having to speak before another eager question was fired his way.

"Tell me this, little ones. Here's an important question for you," he said, holding up a hand. "Do you always do what your parents tell you? Do you never lie or boast?"

In the boys' eagerness to please Old Binder, they gave him a resounding, "Yes!"

Old Binder's smile dropped as he gave one of the boys one final pat on the head.

As the boys twittered on, the man turned to reenter his cave. The boys fell silent, disappointed. He did not look back as he gave them their final warning, "There's only an hour or so before sundown. That's the time I go hunting. You've heard the stories, haven't you?"

From the darkness of the cave, Old Binder's voice hummed, "Run."

The boys tripped over themselves as they scrambled down the mountain.

The ever-changing stories of Old Binder sufficated their minds as they huffed and bolted as fast as they could to the steepest slope. The youngest boys fell, slicing their legs against the rocks.

They sobbed and refused to stand, "Mommy, Daddy!"

Ruiny tried to convince them to move, tried even to carry them for a distance. Their bloody hands made a mess of the older boy's shirt.

But when the sky darkened, and something sounding like a howl echoed down from the peak, the oldest boys abandoned them in the snow and threw their bodies with a pounding speed back home.

Once the trees cleared and the sight of their village reemerged, Ruiny began to cry.

"I left them. I left them! I'm not a man," he blubbered. Still crying, he dragged his body back into the forest.

"What are you doing!" Miquel shouted after him.

Miquel looked toward home, then back to his friend, growing smaller and smaller. Miquel let out a cry before following his friend. But he didn't get far before the howling rose, stopping him in his tracks.

Old Binder, somewhere in the darkening woods, took hold of the third boy and devoured him whole. Miquel did not need to witness this to know the truth.

Miquel ran until he reached home. He slammed the door shut and barricaded himself inside with what little there was lying around the house.

"Dad! Dad!" He shouted.

He was alone in the cottage. With only the kitchen and a sleeping space piled with quilts, there was no room to hide.

One final howl sang from outside the door.

Miquel crawled to the fireplace and took shelter under the head of Old Binder, mouth open, gnarling at the intruder stepping in from the cold.

"This is what happens to liars."