A Stuck Mind and a Stuck Rock

Author’s Note: This is the sixteenth part of a series about Farren’s journey through a limbo world where everyone is trying to reach the peak of a mountain but have a rope tied to their ankle. Catch up by reading Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, and Part 15

In the shade of a half dozen trees, Farren slept through the afternoon. He’d made it out of the desert, after seeing what he could only describe as a herd of rocks. It was his second week of traveling through the forest, and Farren enjoyed not being under constant barrage from the harsh sun. The trees, which started sparsely at first, were now thick enough to make it difficult for him to travel blindly at night.
However, his body, so used to sleeping during the day and traveling at night, was still stuck in its old pattern. Afternoon naps were now more of a habit than a necessity, but it was a habit Farren enjoyed. He didn’t plan to break any sooner than he had to.
Farren woke up lazily estimating he still had a few hours of travel left in the day and was in no hurry to get up. However, when he heard someone walking past him grunting at the rope they were dragging behind them he opened his eyes in excitement. This was the first person he’d met after the solitude of the desert.

The woman passing through the patch of trees Farren was resting near had grey hair and a young, energetic face.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Farren called out. She jumped at the sound of his voice indicating she was likely as used to solitude as Farren was. Once she’d located him getting up from under a tree, she gave him a scowl of embarrassment.
“Obviously not great since I’m here,” she said while she lifted the rope in her hand. “Are you enjoying your afternoon nap?” the question sounded like mockery.
“I was,” Farren answered genuinely. He pulled a rope ball behind him as he approached her. Once he got to a conversational distance, he sat on the ball.
The grey-haired woman gawked at him, “What on earth is that?” Her tone sounded of disgust rather than the typical reverence, jealousy, or amazement, Farren received when people noticed his slack.
“It’s my rope,” Farren said casually, then he gestured to the area where he’d corralled the dozens of balls he’d been traveling with for many years. “I’ve been collecting it.”
“I see that,” she said. Wonder or at least curiosity was seeping into her voice. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Well, when they asked me what size boulder I wanted I asked for the biggest one. That seems to have been a mistake because now I can’t drag it behind me.” He gave a half-hearted tug on his rope to illustrate his problem.
The woman laughed at him. It was a cheery laugh, and it seemed that his situation had brought twisted joy to her day.

“What?” Farren asked dumbfounded.
“It’s just funny that I spend all morning for the past few days I’ve been here cursing myself, this rope, and the godforsaken rock at the end of it and then I meet you. I meet a man who can’t even drag the rock behind him. I’d feel bad for laughing at you, except you did it to yourself, so I,” she shrugged not feeling like she needed to continue to explain and laughed at the joke of it all instead.
“Thanks,” Farren said with a grin trying to be a good sport and the butt of the joke at the same time. “It’s not all bad though. I’ve learned that it’s a lot easier to move around with slack. Have you ever considered turning around to find your rock? It might make it easier to move than just dragging it behind you.” He thought of the herd of rocks that he’d seen before the end of the desert. Many of those people were likely traveling through these woods right now.
“No, I never considered it,” the woman said thoughtfully, “I haven’t had any problems moving, at least not any more than you’d expect with a 50-kilo rock tied to your ankle.”
“I’ve found it liberating,” Farren said repeating himself. “And those I know who have gotten to their rock have been rewarded with a lot of freedom.”
The woman with the grey hair shrugged, “thanks for the tip buddy, but I’m pretty dedicated to making progress towards the mountain. I’ll do it through sheer hardworking and elbow grease.” She bent over to pick up the rope attached to her ankle and began heading out of the patch of trees.
It happened to be in the direction of Farren’s rope. He quickly gathered his trail of rope balls and began to follow her.
“How do you even know this is the right way to travel?” He asked once he had caught up to her. He was looping the new slack he pulled in without even thinking about it.
The woman grunted as she pulled her rock behind her. “It’s because it’s the opposite direction of my rock.”
Farren turned over the logic in his mind. “I started at the base of the mountain. I saw it, but I couldn’t hike it because I had no way to move my rock. So I had to turn around.” He hoped that sharing more of his story would convince her to turn back

“Sucks for you,” she said putting a loose strand of grey hair behind her ear as she continued to heave her rock behind her with its leash.
“Well, what I’m getting at is that you can’t be moving in the right direction because the mountain is that way.” He pointed in the direction from which she’d come.
The woman merely shrugged and labored on sticking to her original course.
“And even if it’s not and both of us are wrong you’d at least have the freedom to move and explore to find it without having to drag that heavy weight around behind you.”
She gave him a disheartening glare. “That’s not how mass works.” She tugged at her rock gaining another foot then stopped and looked at him.
“Look, pal, if you want to pick up your rope and find your beloved rock go ahead and do it.” She gestured at his rope trail leading in the direction she was headed, “But I don’t see any reason for you to feel obligated to preach to me about why I should do the same. Just pick up your rope and get out of here. And maybe when you find your rock and engineer some way to move it, then you can pass me on the way back to the mountain and laugh at me. But for now, I’m set on getting there the way God intended. By dragging this damn thing behind me and getting to the top of the mountain with hard work and determination.”
Farren opened his mouth to add a retort but couldn’t think of anything worth saying. The woman stared at him intently, her eyes daring him to give her another reason to go off on him again. Farren declined to provide her with a reason and began picking up his slack and walking away from her, and towards his rock, at a pace, he knew she couldn’t keep up with even if she wanted to.

As he traveled, the trees got thicker every day. At first, he was looking for patches of trees between sparse areas of grass then he found some dense grassy areas. But now a few days after arguing with the grey-haired woman he was in the full shade of trees nearly constantly. They weren’t as thick as they’d been when he was at the base of the mountain but he could tell the woods were thickening.
As he traveled in the morning, he heard a sound coming from the distance. He followed the rustling sound of leaves to find a freckled faced man tugging at his rope almost rhythmically. Despite all the noise he was making he heard Farren’s approach.
“Hey mate, can you help me with this?” He called out.
Farren shrugged and stood behind him helping the man tug at his rope. Farren quickly fell into the pattern that the man was in, and the two of them pulled against his stuck rock.
After thirty minutes of this tugging, the stone still refused to budge, but the man worked relentlessly. Farren continued to help tired but unsure of how to get himself out of the situation. Then the two men felt it give way and they toppled back with the man landing on Farren.
“Hell yeah!” The man exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet. He reached out a hand to help Farren to his feet. “Thanks for the help mate. I’m Harrower.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Farren,” he said as he massaged his tired arms. The man across from him had light red hair and a freckled face, but his arms were the size of Farren’s thighs. He had a hard time imaging that he contributed much to this man’s efforts.
“What on Jequanda is that?” Harrower said as he stared over Farren’s shoulder.
Farren jumped, expecting to see a wild animal, although he’d never seen one in his whole time on this world. “What’s what?” Farren said when he didn’t see anything peculiar.
“That rope, mate. Where the hell did you get so much? Is it all yours?” The man walked up to it dragging his rope behind him loosely. Once he got to Farren’s slack, he inspected it with wide-eyed wonder. “What possessed you to collect so much?”
Farren pulled up a rope ball and sat on it offering another one to the freckled man. Then he told the story of how he started at the base of the mountain and had to begin collecting rope. Harrower was very interested and asked dozens of questions about the logistics of it all. They spent the better part of the morning recounting Farren’s journey from the mountain to where he was today.
“You know the more you talk about this, the more it sounds like a good idea.”
“Really?” Farren asked. It’d been a long time since someone took his suggestion to return to their rock. Farren was even beginning to doubt his process as a whole.
“Yeah, every night I go to bed because I’m stuck on something or another. I can’t make progress, so I go to sleep. Then I spend the morning trying to get free. If I could carry my rock, I’d make way more progress.”
“That’s the thought,” Farren said, knowing that even if he got to his boulder, it’d be unlikely he’d be able to lift it.
They spent the early afternoon tracing back Harrower’s rope as Farren showed him how to coil it in a way that rolled easily but didn’t come undone. When most of the afternoon had passed Harrower leaned against a tree for a break. “I really appreciate you giving up some of your time to teach me. I know you’ve had to let out some of that slack you’ve collected to do it.”

Farren shrugged at the comment. Harrower was right, Farren had let out a bit, but he was going to go back and collect it. He told himself it was a small price to pay for teaching something that could change this man’s afterlife.
“I’m glad you told me about this,” he continued, “I don’t know how long it would be until I was stuck and unable to move but I’m glad I met you, and you shared this with me. I’ll make sure to tell everyone I meet. I hope you do the same. Although that seems to be your default plan.”
“I’m glad you were receptive of it. A lot of people aren’t.”
“Well don’t let them discourage you,” he said with a hearty chuckle, “they’d spoil it for the rest of us who want to hear it.” the burly red-headed man smiled at him. “Go get back to it,” he said gesturing back towards where Farren had come. Then he wrapped his muscular arms around Farren and squeezed.
Farren hugged the man back but thought he was soon going to pass out from lack of air. When the man let go Farren brought in a gasp of air.
“Thanks for everything Harrower,” Farren said.
“No, thank you.”
As Farren collected his rope and the day wound to a close he heard a noise in the distance. He hadn’t made it entirely back to where he’d met and talked with Harrower, but he had a rope trail to follow. It’s not like I’m going to get lost in these woods, he thought.
Farren set off to find the source of the noise with Harrower’s words in the back of his mind. He wondered if the person making the ruckus would be accepting of Farren’s idea to collect rope or if they’d denounce him as crazy. Either way, he would continue to share his story and not let anyone spoil it for those who need to hear it.