The Island

by Daya Daniels

  I always did like to observe her when she dreams.

  When her eyes pop open, a smile creeps its way across my lips.

  She spears her fingers into my hair, combing through the strands. I take the chance to inhale the powdery scent that dusts her delicate wrist, then place a kiss there.

  “Will you stay?” Her expression is so soft, I stop breathing for a beat.

  I never stay.

  No matter what.

  I glance out the window, just behind her at the peak in the distance that I plan to conquer. It’s what I live for. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of.

  Nothing

  else

  matters.

  “Will you stay?” She repeats the question with watery eyes.

  I remain silent, offering her no reply or explanation.

  But I know she realizes my silence means everything. It speaks volumes.

  A tear slips from her eye and soaks the pillow beneath her.

  She already knows it.

  I don’t have to say it.

  In a few days, I’ll be gone.

  En Route

  Annika

  THE NEXT MORNING...

  I awoke this morning at 04:00 to find an opening in the weather. The sky had cleared, and the winds had died down overnight, allowing the glowing sun to come into view and the mountain to shine like the deceptive beauty she is.

  The three high-altitude porters within our team—Pemba, Paula, and Chaka—are ahead, walking at a steady pace as we move through the icefall section of the Baltoro Glacier.

  Before sunrise, they’d scrambled to gather up everything we needed, as much as they could carry, and put it all on the backs of the mules that won’t be able to go any farther than our next stop. The low-altitude porters in our group had stayed behind at base camp, since that’s as far as this summit party had paid them, along with how far the men and women were willing to go.

  Now, all around us there’s nothing but white. So much so, it’s almost blinding.

  The warm sun beats down on the back of my neck and sweat slicks my face, which is cooled by the cold wind each time it dusts my skin. The rucksack on my back feels comfortable even though its weight is much heavier than it should be.

  Racine walks up ahead of me in the group. I observe her pace, which seems steady and strong, but every one hundred feet or so, she stops and stares at the ice underfoot. I narrow my eyes when she does it one more time. Sebastian grips her by the shoulder and nudges her on.

  Musa is up ahead, the first in line with his fast gait. The rest of us might struggle to keep up with him on this run. He stops, lifts his cell phone, and takes a few snapshots of himself, fixing his hair into place before he does, posing.

  “My God,” I whisper to myself.

  Winston eases up next to me. He doesn’t say anything, only smiles.

  We walk in stride together for a bit.

  For an old man, he’s strong and resilient. And considering how cold it is right now not even the tip of his nose is pink, like mine. And he’s rocking just a simple short-sleeve thermal T-shirt. Not exactly winter wear out here. But, he doesn’t seem to be cold. I think this old dude might be impervious to the chill.

  “How are you doing there, my girl?” He grins.

  I’m unable to keep down my laugh. “I’m good.”

  “Good.” He stares straight ahead beneath the peak of his baseball cap, which has the Manchester United emblem on the front of it. The bright red color edged with gold catches my attention. Winston notices.

  “Are you into soccer?”

  “No, no, no.” I chuckle. “I’m American.”

  He lets out a haughty laugh. “So, Americans don’t watch soccer?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Well, what are you saying?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “I’ve just never really been into it, but I once knew someone who was.”

  “I see.” He pauses. “Did he?” He eyeballs me. “Or she?” He waits. “Have a team?”

  “He,” I clarify for him. “And yes, he had a team. In fact, it was the same team on your cap.”

  “Ah.” He smiles. “That means he has good taste.”

  Had.

  “Did you ever watch with him?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Good, good, good. Soccer teaches teamwork.” Winston points ahead. “Important for things like this excursion, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “Kai tells me you’re from Colorado.” He smiles.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Are your parents still there?”

  “No.” I keep my answer short and simple.

  Winston frowns. “Any siblings?”

  “Nope, none at all.” I smile.

  “I see.”

  “And what about you?” I wait for him to elaborate.

  “Do you have a boyfriend or a husband?” He ignores my question.

  Interesting.

  “I did,” I breathe out.

  Winston nods, keeping his eyes on me.

  “He, um, ah. We made it to the top of this very mountain, but before we could make it down, he died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Married long then?”

  “Yeah, we had a good run of years before he went away.”

  “Was it his wish to remain on the mountain after he, um, ah, perished?”

  “No.” I take in the view of the endless white ahead. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “I understand. But honestly, I don’t know if I would return to this mountain.” He wipes his face with a towel. “If I had a story like yours...”

  “I have to.”

  “I see.”

  “I have been back here a few times since,” I say.

  Winston smiles. I find his smile soothing. And funnily enough I don’t mind talking to him about the things that hurt my heart. His questions aren’t invasive. It’s as if he’s genuinely concerned and cares about my replies.

  “What was he like?” Winston glances my way.

  Exhaling, I open my mouth and start to fill him in on the details of my life. “He was kind, loving. He was the type of man who would give you the clothes off his back if you were ever cold. He’d give up his last shiny dollar to buy someone food. He had a wild soul. He backpacked around the world. He never put too much emphasis on things. He cared about people. He loved the earth and the outdoors. He taught me the importance of recycling.” I laugh. “Things like that.”

  “And you miss him?” Winston’s brows wrinkle.

  “Yeah, of course.” I swallow. “In his lifetime, he’d abandoned more than five summit attempts to rescue other climbers he came across who were in trouble. Jesse was like that.”

  “Jesse.” Winston smiles. “It sounds like you loved him a lot.”

  “I did, I do. I always will.”

  We slow a bit when the icefall section of the glacier comes up ahead.

  “It looks like you’re on...” Winston nudges me up ahead.

  Kai is already leading the summit party and the realization of that irritates me.

  Who in the fuck does he think he is?

  Why isn’t Igor up front?

  I understand that the Prince of the Peaks is an experienced climber, but this is my shop. I rush up ahead, expelling heavy breaths with every stomp I make along the frozen ground. When I get close, I find Gilda looking around, dumbfounded, as if she’s never seen such a sight, as if she doesn’t know what continent she’s standing on.

  Her mouth hangs open. “This is incredible, Annika.”

  I tap her on the shoulder. “Yes, it is.” I make my way toward Kai.

  “Hey, where you rushin’, little lady?” Tyrone tosses me a handsome smirk.

  Five other summit parties are already making their way through the “popcorn,” or the ice, that has taken such unique formations that it looks more like the popped kernel than it does the frozen w
ater it is.

  “What are you doing?” The words spill from my mouth with venom.

  Kai’s gray eyes widen. “I’m helping. What in the fuck do you think?” He points a finger to the rest of the team, who are approaching us from behind. “You were way back there.” He checks the fancy watch on his thick wrist. “We are on a tight time frame.”

  I look around, perplexed.

  Where the fuck is Igor?

  My shoulders fall when I realize he’s way behind, farther behind me than I realized, and walking as slow as a geriatric.

  I swallow back my words while Kai waits for me to say more.

  He reaches his big arm over my head and ushers Gilda up the icy section, beneath a small overhang. Musa goes next. Then the porters and everyone else. When Racine and Sebastian take the path, I step forward. Kai stops me by extending his arm in front of me, and with a long pause, his stone-gray eyes land on me for what seems like forever, then he steps in front of me and walks ahead.

  An angry huff leaves me.

  I go next.

  Winston hangs back and ushers me ahead of him with the gesture of an arm.

  Like a gentleman.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He only nods and we maintain the same pace we had earlier, but this time we watch diligently at everything underfoot. Twisting an ankle out here can kill your dreams of summiting faster than you can sneeze and you’ll be going home quicker than you can wipe your snotty nose.

  “He isn’t so bad, my girl.” Winston’s eyes smile.

  “Oh.” I wonder if he can sense my internal eye roll.

  “Yes, I think he’s very misunderstood.”

  A lopsided smile smacks my face.

  Isn’t that what they say about assholes?

  They’re misunderstood. No one gets them. You must get to know them...

  Blah, blah, blue.

  Nope, they’re just assholes.

  Simple.

  With the heave of a breath, I make my way over the last rocky section and get to a flatter area of ice. I crane my neck up to the sky, sucking in the cold air and taking in the sight of the blue sky above and the surrounding peaks.

  It’s beautiful.

  Winston leans back to face the sky. “I could never tire of this.”

  “Me neither.”

  We stop to maneuver over a crevasse. They say don’t look down, but I can never help myself. Peering into it, there’s nothing but cold black ice and I wonder how deep it extends into the earth. The magnitude of it. Where this ice fissure ends or if it ever does.

  The crack isn’t as large and deep as the crevasses I’ve encountered before that were so big they could swallow a ten-story building. They can be more than a mile deep and wide and can be hundreds of miles long.

  Crevasses are everywhere around here. Along with boulders that cover the icy expanse, some that are the size of Buicks and Hollywood mansions. They’re beautiful and formidable ice formations.

  “I was fourteen years old when I summited Mount Blanc with my father.” Winston grins. “It was such a wonderful moment. He was so proud of me.” He sucks his teeth. “After that, I couldn’t stay off the damn things.” He chuckles. “I’ve been climbing now for over sixty-five years. Every bone in my body aches from being broken at one point or another. Nothing works the way it used to.” He focuses on the hard ice beneath our boots. “But it’s all been worth it.” He sniffs the air like a greyhound. “I’ll likely die on these mountains. I wouldn’t want to go any other way.”

  I smile.

  “I used to climb with Kai’s father.” Winston looks straight ahead.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes, he’s one competitive bastard.” He laughs out loud. “A true alpinist, I guess you could say.”

  Alpinist.

  A word inspired by the Alps, which lie within the boundaries of Europe.

  Most say that if you’re serious about climbing you can consider yourself a true alpinist. But, some take it to the extreme claiming that unless you live on the flank of a mountain more than half the year and immerse yourself in tackling difficult climbs, you cannot be considered a true alpinist. Some might say you become a true alpinist as soon as your climbs move off rock and sand and graduate to ice and snow, and you’re no longer a “hill walker.” Or, maybe it’s when you summit your first eight-thousander. Who knows. But I suppose there are no real rules as to what makes one a climber or does not.

  Winston continues to speak. “Alfred had to be the first with everything he did. He had to be the winner! He had to have the best time. He had to conquer the most. If you couldn’t beat him, then you were just shit.” His tone is dramatic. “It used to drive me nuts.” He laughs more. “But Alfred was an avid sportsman back in the day. A great man to be around who was successful in life both on and off the peaks. He put a lot of pressure on that boy to be just like him, and ever since then, Kai’s been begging for his approval. And I don’t think he ever got it from Alfred even until this day.” He pins his eyes on Kai who’s marching ahead with the gait and fortitude of a draft horse.

  Igor is far in front. He follows the same path as the team that’s far up ahead but hangs a left after passing the south face, which will take us to the base of the South-Southeast Spur—the Cesen Route. A route that got its name after Slovenian climber, Tomo Cesen, soloed it in 1986.

  Kai certainly doesn’t strike me as the type of man who ever stops when he wants something...

  “His father is an earl?” I find Winston’s eyes, looking for confirmation.

  “Yes, yes, yes. Alfred is a man who descends from British royalty, just like me.”

  “Wow.”

  “He’s a distant cousin of mine along with being my best friend. I am that young man over there’s godfather, and of course, since he’s sprouted up from a boy we’ve become wondrous friends.”

  We’ve covered a substantial distance while we’ve been talking. Up ahead the team slows their speed once more as we maneuver through the glacier. The sun has shifted position and the air has chilled even more. The cloud cover moves over us again, easing the sun’s burn to my cheeks.

  “Kai’s drive to conquer this mountain is borderline obsessive,” Winston growls. “He’s like that young, virile man who won’t stop bugging the pretty girl he has a crush on.” Winston makes a funny face and a spearing motion with his fingers. “He just keeps poking at her, begging, asking to look up her skirt, but she won’t let him. Never.” He laughs out loud. “But he never gives up.” Winston smiles. “Kai’s spent so many years trying to get to the top of this mountain. He’s failed over and over, but he keeps trying. Nothing will ever seem complete until he has this mountain under his belt.”

  My ears perk up. “He’s been here before?”

  “My girl, you must find out everything about the people you are leading on this expedition. What makes them tick. What makes them sad. What makes them happy. You must know everything.”

  I lick my lips. “I-I-I do.”

  I don’t.

  “But I just didn’t know that about Kai.”

  Winston inhales the air. “Yes, well, he’s been here five times already. He had such bad luck on his first few attempts. He almost died on the last try. Anyways, I vowed that if he were ever to come back to this godforsaken place, I’d accompany him. Protect him. I promised him I’d be here to make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble.”

  I resist the urge to laugh out loud at the thought of an eighty-year-old man protecting Kai, who is much younger and larger, from anything. The idea is downright ridiculous, but Winston seems convinced Kai wouldn’t get on too well without him.

  “I’m sure he’d be fine. He’s a big boy.” With a smile, I toss him a wink.

  Winston pulls his trekking poles out.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  They hit the ice with each of his steps.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “How are the living arrangements coming along?” He glances at me.

  This m
orning, my eyes had fluttered open to find Kai reading. His eyes met mine beneath the soft light coming from the tiny lamp that was clipped to the tent wall above his head. I murmured “good morning.” He said nothing back, only shoved me a thermos full of hot mint tea. I almost broke my jaw when I muttered “thank you,” but I managed to get it out. Then, we sat in the silence as Kai turned the pages of Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss.

  It’s a story about a family who gets shipwrecked and ends up on a deserted island. They learn to live in the wild, have lots of adventures, and build their home in a massive tree. And even when they have loads of endless fun, there’s always the question that hangs in the air about whether they should return to civilization.

  They decide not to.

  It’s a cool story.

  Not exactly something I expected Kai to be reading, but he seemed quite into it, even laughing a time or two when something had clearly jumped off the pages at him.

  I kept it a secret that the story is one of my favorites to read aloud.

  But still, I haven’t warmed to the Prince of the Peaks...

  Winston’s bright eyes meet mine.

  I purse my lips and scrunch my face. “Can I bunk with you, please?” I practically beg.

  Winston arches a brow, possibly flattered, I’m not sure. “I’m sorry, my girl, but I sleep naked.”

  I exhale.

  “I’m quite certain you want no parts of that.” He wiggles his brows.

  Um, no, thanks. I pass.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Advance Base Camp

  5,273 meters | 17,300 feet

  Kai

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON...

  We’re exhausted.

  The temperature has dropped even lower and we had hell erecting these tents when we arrived with the winds that had picked up. A few climbers had already started for Camp 1 to acclimatize, then will circle back. Everyone’s spirits seem to have picked up since we’re on the move and that little light deep inside me that tells me I’m closer to ascending this bitch than I was a week ago flickers.