Spring by the Sea, the Last Snow on the Mountain

I was snow, lent to the human world by the Snow Realm. As a child, I led three lost boys out of the snowy mountains. One became my boyfriend. The other two became my closest childhood friends. The Snow Realm allowed me to stay human on one condition: Every year, before spring arrived, someone had to walk the last stretch of snow-covered trail at the summit with me. If no one came, I could no longer remain human. That first year, all three came, each trying to be the one to clear a path through the snow for me. And every year after that, they came again. Until this year, when my boyfriend Ethan’s cousin, Lily, moved to the city for school. She said she’d never seen the sea and wanted them to take her there. Before they left, I asked, “Who’s walking the snow trail with me this year?” Ethan answered first. “I am.” Noah and Lucas smiled. “Have we ever let you go alone?” But on the day we were supposed to leave, I waited at the station until dark. Then Lily sent me a photo from the beach. The three of them crowded around her, her smile as bright as a summer day. I asked, “Weren’t you supposed to come up the mountain with me?” “It’s Lily’s first time seeing the sea,” Ethan said. “I can’t just leave her here.” “You go every year,” Noah told me. “What’s the harm in skipping it once?” “We’ll go with you next year,” Lucas said. I looked toward the distant mountain. “But the snow will be gone tomorrow.” “Then we’ll go earlier next year,” Ethan replied. That night, they sent another message to the group chat. “We’re coming back to the beach next week. Want to join us?” I lowered my head. The snow on the back of my hand was slowly melting. Chapter 1 I wiped it with a tissue. Within seconds, the tissue was soaked. I tried another. That one soaked through, too. It took me a long time to realize the water wasn’t dripping from my clothes. My hand was melting. Before sending me down the mountain, the folk of the Snow Realm had warned me: If a year came when no one walked that final stretch of snow trail with me, my body would begin to melt, little by little, before the last patch of snow disappeared. But if someone reached me in time, it could still be stopped. I bought a ticket for the earliest bus to the foot of the mountain the next morning. Then I sent the route from the beach to the mountain to our group chat. “It’s a three-hour drive. I only need one of you to come before five tomorrow afternoon.” Noah replied first. “Why are you timing us now? It’s not like we’re avoiding you.” Lucas sent a comforting emoji. “Let’s talk tomorrow. Go home and get some sleep.” I stared at Ethan’s profile picture. He hadn’t said a word. Last year, halfway up the snow trail, he’d realized he’d left his gloves in the car and insisted on going back for them. I told him I didn’t need them. “I can’t stand seeing your hands get cold,” he said. He’d run all the way back to the car, then up the trail again. Now I only needed him to make one trip back to me. It was almost eleven when his message finally came. “Lily gets carsick. She needs to sleep in tomorrow. Don’t start pestering her first thing in the morning.” “I won’t,” I replied. “I’ll wait for you.” He sent me seventy-five dollars. The note read: “Get yourself something good to eat. Treat yourself.” I didn’t accept the money. Instead, I called him. “Ethan, can you come tomorrow?” In the background, someone laughed and called him over for a photo. He stepped away before answering. “Haven’t I already explained? Just tell me what you want me to bring back. I’ll get you anything.” “I don’t want a gift.” “Then what do you want?” “For you to walk part of the trail with me.” For a moment, the line went quiet. “Claire, Lily just got here. She doesn’t have a single friend. If we all leave, what’s she supposed to do?” “You don’t all have to come.” “Enough.” He went on as though he hadn’t heard me. “I’ll talk to the others tomorrow.” I looked at the empty space where two of my fingertips had been. “Don’t leave it too late.” Chapter 2 I reached the foot of the mountain at seven the next morning. Mr. Brooks, who watched over the snow trail, looked past me as soon as he saw me. “Where are those three boys? They’d usually fighting over who gets to carry your backpack. Not one of them today?” “They’ll be here later.” He glanced at the sky. “Then you’d better hurry. It’s warm today. The snow at the summit won’t last until evening.” I nodded. He hadn’t seen me head up alone in years. He gave me another look but didn’t ask anything else. A row of trail passes hung at the entrance. Every year, Ethan insisted on taking mine, saying he was afraid I’d lose it. Noah would tease him for not even letting me carry my own pass. While they bickered, Lucas would slip my backpack onto his shoulders. Today, I took just one of the four passes. Halfway up the mountain, my right index finger had melted down to the second knuckle. I pulled off my glove. The sodden fabric hung limp. There was no longer enough of my hand left to fill it. Ethan had knitted that glove. That first year, he’d only known one basic stitch. He’d made the thumb too narrow, and it squeezed painfully whenever I wore it. Still, I’d never had the heart to replace it. My phone rang. I hurried to answer with my left hand. It was a video call from Lily. She stood by the ocean, her eyes shining. “Claire, look! The water really is blue!” She turned the camera around. Noah was taking pictures of her. Lucas held her coat, and Ethan carried her shoes. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Lily asked. “It is.” “How’s it going over there? Ethan said you went hiking on your own.” I watched the wet patches spreading across my glove. “Lily, could you put Noah on?” Her smile faltered, but she handed him the phone. “You’re there already?” he said. “Didn’t I tell you last night there was no rush?” “The snow will be gone this afternoon. If you leave now, you can still make it.” “Lily just got to the beach. She’s barely had any time here.” “You can come. Ethan and Lucas can stay with her.” “Why does it have to be me?” His voice dropped. “They’re both here, too.” As a boy, he’d been afraid there were hidden hollows beneath the snow. With every step, he’d cling to the hem of my coat. Only after I’d packed the snow down beneath my feet would he dare to follow. When he grew older, he started taking the lead. Even from far ahead, he’d turn and call back to me. “Claire, step in my footprints.” “Because you’re the one who answered,” I said. He didn’t reply. After a while, he said, “I’ve got to go. Lily’s waiting for me to take more pictures.” The call ended. I stuffed the soaked glove into my backpack and kept climbing. At ten, Lucas sent me a photo. Lily sat on a rock by the water, holding a seashell. His blue scarf was draped over her shoulders. I’d knitted it for him when we were children. The stitches were terribly crooked. He’d called it ugly, but he wore it up the mountain every year. “She’s a little cold,” he wrote. “I’m letting her borrow it for a bit.” “Can you come?” I asked. His reply came almost immediately. “I need to keep an eye on her. The rocks are slippery, and she’s never been to the beach before.” “Ethan and Noah are there, too.” No reply came. The snow at the summit glistened wetly in the sun. I stopped at the fork in the trail to wait. My thumb, too, was slowly melting away. Chapter 3 At noon, I finally reached the last stretch of the snow trail. It wasn’t long. It would take less than twenty minutes to reach the pine tree at its end. But walking this stretch alone wouldn’t count. I sat on the stone steps and took four oranges out of my backpack. Lucas used to bring them every year. “The snow trail’s tough,” he’d say. “Peel an orange as you walk, and you’ll be at the end before you’re done.” This year, he’d forgotten to buy them. So I had. I peeled one with my left hand. The peel broke several times. My right hand had melted all the way to the wrist. My empty cuff kept dripping. A message appeared in the group chat. “Noah took so many pictures of me!” Lily wrote. “Claire, want to see?” “When are you coming back?” A long while passed before Noah replied. “She almost slipped on the rocks. We’re taking her to lunch first. Don’t sit there waiting for us to reply. It’s putting a lot of pressure on us.” I stared at the words "a lot of pressure," then put the peeled orange back in its container. At one thirty, I called Lucas. When he answered, someone nearby was ordering food. I heard Lily say she wanted something hot, then Ethan asking the server for a cup of ginger tea. “Lucas,” I said. “If you leave now, you can still make it.” “Didn’t Noah tell you? Lily almost fell.” “So all three of you have to stay?” “I’m the one who took her out onto those rocks. How could I live with myself if she got hurt?” “I’m waiting for you, too.” He was quiet for a moment. “Claire, she could actually fall if we don’t help her. How many times have you walked that trail since you were a kid? I thought you’d understand.” I gripped my phone, remembering the first time he’d come up the mountain. He’d sprained his ankle. Ethan had supported him from the front while I’d steadied him from behind. Together, we’d helped him all the way down. We hadn’t walked the snow trail until he could walk with us. “Lucas, I can’t walk it today.” He sighed. “Then don’t. Wait until next year. Arguing with me won’t change anything. I’m already at the beach.” After hanging up, he sent me thirty dollars. “For oranges. Next year, I’ll walk it with you twice more to make up for it.” I looked at the four oranges in front of me. I didn’t accept the money. Sometime after two, my lower legs began to soften. Water slowly pooled inside my boots. Every step made a wet squelching sound. Bracing myself against a rock, I stood and went to the entrance of the snow trail to try. At my first step, the snow beside the path quickly seeped into gray water. I backed away and sent Ethan a voice message. “I know you’re with Lily. You can stay a little longer, but you have to leave by two thirty at the latest. The drive takes three hours. I can walk the trail a little faster.” More than ten minutes passed before he called. “Claire, Noah said you were pushing him pretty hard. Can we please not do this?” “I’ve worked out the timing. If you leave now, there’s still time.” “Lily hasn’t even finished lunch. How am I supposed to tell her I’m leaving?” “Tell her I’m waiting for you on the mountain.” “You make it sound so easy. It’s her first time here, and the three of us are supposed to just abandon her? Think how awkward that would be for her.” I looked at my pant legs, growing emptier by the minute. “Ethan, I really thought you’d come.” His voice softened. “I want to be there with you. Next year, okay? I won’t go anywhere else. Just up the mountain with you.” “You said that last year, too.” “And didn’t I go with you last year?” He had. He’d come every year. That was why, even though he hadn’t come this time, I’d kept waiting. Two thirty came. He was still at the beach. I put the four oranges back in my backpack and swiped past each of their chats, one after another. I didn’t ask any of them again. Chapter 4 At three, a small patch of black rock emerged in the middle of the snow trail. My boots were so loose they wouldn’t stay on. I sat down and used my scarf to secure them. When I stood again, one pant leg felt so light it might have been empty. Lily sent a photo of them at lunch. Ethan was looking down, carefully cutting her fish into bite-sized pieces. Noah held up a hand to shield her face from the camera while she chewed. Lucas had a napkin ready to pass her as soon as she turned toward him. As children, the three of them had huddled together like that when they were trapped in a snow cave. When I found them, Ethan’s first question wasn’t how I would get them out. It was, “Are you cold?” Back then, I couldn’t feel the cold. Now I could. At four, Noah sent me a message. “Are you down yet? There’s a shop here that sells candy shaped like snowy mountains. I’ll bring you a box.” “I haven’t gone down. I’m at the start of the last stretch.” He called immediately. “You’re still there? Claire, we really can’t make it back. Will you please stop waiting?” “You could have come back,” I said. “You could have left this morning.” He said nothing. In the distance, someone called him over to look at the seagulls. He called back, then spoke to me again. “I know you’re angry. Tell you what—when we’re back in the city, pick a place. You can yell at me all you want. I’ll stand there and take it.” “Did you even once think about coming today?” He hesitated. “I did. But Lily just got here. I don’t want her to feel like she’ll always be an outsider whenever the three of us are together.” The call ended. I stared at the road below. When we were children, I’d led them out of these mountains. Now they were afraid to leave Lily alone at the beach. But they left me alone here. At four twenty, my right hand was gone. Only the palm of my left remained to hold my phone. I called Lucas. “Could you talk to me for a minute?” I asked. “Go ahead. I’m listening.” “When we were little, you had a fever. I brought you out of the mountains. When you woke up, you said that once you grew up, it would be your turn to come find me.” For a while, he was silent. “I remember,” he said. “Claire, it’s not like I’m never coming to see you again.” “But I’m waiting now.” “We’re coming back to the city tonight.” His voice softened. “I’ll come see you as soon as we get home, okay?” He’d already made plans for my evening. As though, after today, I would still be home, waiting for his knock. At four forty, the sunlight fell across the roots of the pine tree. Only the last little patch of snow remained. I propped my phone against my backpack, angling it to show me and the snow trail behind me. Then I started a video call with Ethan. This time, I wanted him to see what I was waiting for. ...