Page 128 of Red Mountain Burning
The Guardians of Red Mountain
The Guardians of Red Mountain sat on Otis’s back deck looking west toward Seattle. A full moon rose over their little get-together for Remi on the last night of his single life. It also happened to be the grand opening for Château Smooth, and a low rumbling bass thumped from a DJ’s speakers off in the distance.
Though they still hadn’t enjoyed a fall rain yet, the nights were getting cooler, and Otis had just pulled on a brown cardigan. He was doing his best to make peace with the loud music and hoped that this wouldn’t be a regular occurrence. Even if it were, Otis only had a few more weeks before he’d be saying his goodbyes anyway. Perhaps the music wouldn’t bother the new owner of Till Vineyards at all.
The man of honor held a saber in one hand and a bottle of Champagne sans the cage in the other. Since it was Remi’s first time to saber a bottle of bubbly, Brooks stood next to him and offered a few helpful suggestions.
“Don’t chop the glass, or we’ll be taking you to the hospital. Let the pressure in the bottle do all the work. All you have to do is run the saber along the seam.”
“Hold the bottle away from your body too,” Jake chimed in. “I’ve made that mistake before.”
Remi held the Champagne bottle out in front of him and placed the saber’s sharp edge on the shoulder. “Tell Margot I loved her.”
“Oh, you’ll survive,” Brooks said. “Just think more ballerina and less Bruce Lee. No chopping. You’re just guiding the saber toward the tip.”
“Brooks, you can have my motorcycles,” Remi said, continuing his joke.
“Should I get that in writing?”
“Nah, Margot will be glad to get rid of them.” Remi turned one last time toward Otis, Brooks, and Jake. “Nice knowin’ you, fellas.”
He took a step toward the end of the deck and held the bottle at a forty-five-degree angle over the vineyards. He paused, and Otis could tell he was running over the checklist Brooks had given him.
The night seemed to go quiet as Red Mountain waited for Remi’s first sabering. He committed to the act, and the steel of the blade slid across the glass. They all clapped and cheered as the cork and the severed glass tip sailed up into the air.
Remi turned with bubbles fizzing out of the cleanly cut neck.
The other guardians surrounded him with their glasses, and Remi filled them, one at a time.
Making a toast, Brooks said, “To the newest member of the Guardians of Red Mountain. Let the hazing begin.”
They moved through the Champagne in a matter of minutes, and as Jake pulled the cork on an older Barolo, Otis said to him, “You should be very proud of your daughter. I know you guys are going through a lot with Carmen, but I hope you don’t overlook what Emilia has done this summer. As we were tasting her syrah today, I was reminded of Brooks’s first year on the mountain. She shows great promise.”
The cork slid out of the Italian wine with a light pop. “I am proud of her, Otis, and appreciative of what you two have done for her. And I’m excited to know that Lacoda is in good hands. When Brooks first told me he was leaving, I strongly considered selling, but Emilia has convinced me otherwise.”
“No, no,” Otis said. “We can’t all abandon the mountain. I have a feeling Lacoda is the future here.”
Jake smelled the cork. “Have you decided what you’ll do with your property?”
Otis still hadn’t mentioned what he’d hoped would have happened. Though he didn’t want to mess with Brooks’s mind, he felt a sudden need to tell his student the truth.
He answered Jake. “Brooks doesn’t know this, but I’d planned on selling it to him.” He glanced over at Brooks and added, “Before…of course, I heard your own good news about Florida.”
“What?” Brooks said. “You wanted me to take over Till? Like I could afford it anyway.”
Otis shook his head. “How many years did you work for me?”
“Eight or so, I guess.”
“I’d say you’ve earned it.”
Brooks broke their eye contact. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Otis wished he hadn’t said anything. “Not a chance, son. We both must follow our hearts. I’ll find a good buyer, someone who will carry on our traditions. Someone crazy enough to deal with that bozo next door.”
Otis poured himself a glass of the Barolo as it was passed around. He could see he’d jarred Brooks with his confession and was relieved when Remi asked, “Do you think you’ll ever come back, Otis? The mountain won’t be the same without you.”
“I’m not sure I could ever say goodbye for good. In the meantime, I’ll be counting on you gentlemen to send me bottles so I can keep up with the vintages. I’ll surely be watching Emilia from wherever I am.”
