Ramsey' s older brother, John, can' t visit because he recently finished a prison term for armed robbery. Ramsey recently called his mother, collect. Ramsey takes anti-depressants. Sometimes Turnbull, the assistant superintendent, catches a glimpse of the convicted killer with his head bent, weeping. From the narrow window in his cell, if he cranes his neck just so, Ramsey can see snow-covered spruce trees gripping an icy mountain, a sliver of Alaska' s vast wilderness.
Some days there' s a fog or mist over it.
Some days the sun is shining over a certain part of it. Ramsey takes pleasure in nature' s subtle changes, but the mountain, timeless and immovable, also taunts him. It would be a neat thing to see. But the thread that' s tethering his mind to the world outside is fraying. Ramsey rarely thinks of the shooting or of the people he killed.