The Wall by Jeff Long Read Free Book Online

thousands of miles.
    “Finally,” she said to Hugh, and kissed him on the mouth. She gave him thirty years’ worth of a hug. Hugh was surprised by how good she felt. It was almost embarrassing. Over her shoulder, Lewis was grinning from ear to ear. She held Hugh at arm’s length, looked him over, and gathered him in for a second long, hard embrace. “Just like you were,” she said.
    She had been their gypsy spirit, forever on her feet, eyes closed, arms up, twisting and curling like smoke, ready to float off into the cosmos it seemed. Everything was so fresh and present in those days, the music, the poster art and flowers in your hair, the Conan comics, even the ancient war. He remembered driftwood campfires on Pacific nights, the ocean going in and out under the stars.
    Annie had perfected a drop-dead Janis Joplin impression, with every high, rusty, piercing note. Hugh had memorized on his harmonica a fair John Mayall riff that basically worked for any occasion. All of nineteen, Lewis would drunkenly preach the orthodoxy of the Beats, and the spontaneity of art, and the art of climbing. Between songs, he would chant his precious Ginsburg, who was, to the rest of them, already old, fat, and hairy. Hugh would argue with him as if it really mattered. Forget the elitism of the junkies, queers, anarchists, and urban hipsters. In the wilderness lay true freedom. In the stone.
    She let go of him.
    “This is Mr. Augustine,” Lewis said, and Augustine gravely shook her hand.
    “You’re going with them?” she said.
    Augustine frowned uncertainly. “El Cap, you mean?”
    “You’re not a guide?” she said. “I thought they’d come to their senses.”
    “A guide? Them?”
    Hugh was grateful beyond words. Them. They were not forgotten. Until that moment, he had not realized how profoundly he was waiting for such a judgment. He still belonged. They might actually pull it off. Lewis heard it, too. His eyes were suddenly bright.
    Rachel didn’t miss a beat. “Did you know this is where I met them?” she said. “Before you were born, I’m sure, right here, this very room. It wasn’t a bar back then, just a gathering place. It was raining. There was a fire. Some of the Camp Four refugees had come over to dry out. I was just this young thing, sixteen, all bedraggled. And here were these two boys in the corner, totally serious, totally business, the walls, you know, the walls. They saw me across the room, but I had to go up to them. Do you remember?”
    “I remember,” said Hugh.
    “And a little bit later, Annie came over, soggy as a hound, a total stranger just like me. It happened like magic, great loves, everything, our whole future born out of one wet afternoon. I ended up with Lewis. And Annie got herself the lone wolf. I can’t remember how we got all sorted out and paired up. We just followed the stars.”
    It was strange to hear Annie’s name spoken so gaily, without the solemnity people seemed to think Hugh required. Five years had passed, but because this was his first trip to the States since her death, they acted like it had happened just yesterday. Lewis was the worst in that respect. He seemed afraid to even mention her, as if Hugh might have a breakdown.
    Then Hugh noticed Augustine. He looked trapped by all the happy talk about great loves. The pain on his face was unmistakable. Rachel had no way of knowing.
    “Let’s walk outside,” Hugh said to him.
    “No need,” said Augustine. “We’ve covered it all, I guess.”
    “At least have some of your beer.”
    “Another time, that would be good.” Augustine’s big arms hung like string.
    Hugh didn’t insist. The man had a long night of the soul ahead of him. On balance, Augustine had given more than he had received. Without knowing it, he had declared Hugh and Lewis’s legitimacy. Now he was going off empty-handed. Hugh left it at that.
    “Keep the faith,” Lewis said. He looked sheepish. He knew it was lame.
    Rachel looked at the men,