My Fairy God Rock

By Ben Foley

            

      “Why am I here…?” 22,000 feet above sea level with absolutely no motivation to continue climbing, I was spent. After hiking for about a week, I dropped down to my knees, into my own world, as the rest of my group passed me. “I want to go home.” Played over and over again in my mind. “What the hell is that…?” I looked down to see the Tanzanian earth beneath me begin to pulsate. Melting and swirling, the earth transformed into a thick ocean of green and brown. I collapsed flat on my back, and the sight only got worse. That’s it, I decided. I’ll stay put until the rescue team shows up. Screw this.

         “Hey!” a voice echoed off the mountain. I jumped to my feet.

         “Hello…?”

        “Get up you slacker!” The voice yelled as I was about to shit my pants. I looked all around, but nobody was in sight.  

        “Where… who are you?” I whispered. But before I received a reply, I swore I could make out a face on a nearby rock… or maybe it was on that tree… What the hell? 
        The voice seemed to echo in all directions as if the wind itself was speaking to me. My head suddenly felt as if it were ready to explode, and as I held in the pain, the voice sounded again.  

        “What do you think your doing?” The voice screamed. This time I was sure of it!  It was that rock!... wasn’t it?

       “You’ve got a mountain to climb, get your ass up!” I began sprinting, forgetting my complete loss of perception, and I did not stop until I reached the front of the group.

        “Y-yes sir!” I screamed, clutching both sides of my head to numb the pain.

        As I ran, I continued to look for the source of the obscure voice. Suddenly, everything looked as though it had a face. The tree’s knots and branches formed noses and arms, and the rocks’ cracks made up mouths and eyes. As the climb went on, the voice reminded me it was watching. “You want me to make you keep climbing?!” the voice would scream whenever I began to slow down, and again, I would break into a horrified sprint to the front of the group. Soon, with the magical assistance of my mystical friend, that I named, my “fairy god rock," I found myself achieving the impossible. Adrenaline was in endless supply due to the sporadic and horrifying ways in which the voice pushed me forward, and I was practically forced to continue the hike.

   As I stood atop the monstrous mountain, I was aware that I owed all of the credit to my fairy god rock. The clouds below, complimented with the fluorescent glow of nearby glaciers, left me awestruck. I could not believe how close I was to losing such a beautiful sight. Obviously, I thought it appropriate to thank the “rock” that had helped me so much, and so I tried to find him... or it. Turning over stones, from pebbles to boulders, and examining every tree in sight, I realized that the whole group was looking at me as though I was insane. Embarrassed, I accepted that my friend had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and ended my search.

        Altitude sickness, I told myself. Obviously just an illusion from altitude sickness, yet, to this day, I am left with doubt. It was too real. For now, all I can do is be thankful for the mysterious voice. Maybe one day, I will learn what the hell happened on Mt. Kilimanjaro.