Above All Else

by Dana Alison Levy

  “Whoa! You scared me. I’ve got to go grab my—”

  “NO!” My voice is too loud in the dark hallway. “Can we talk? Now?”

  Her eyes meet mine for the first time since she arrived, and I flinch at the coldness.

  After a second she steps into the room. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

  “What do I…Why won’t you talk to me? What the hell is going on with you?”

  It’s like I turned on a fire hose. Rose slams the door behind her and steps toward me. “What’s going on with me? Are you kidding? You get into your dream college and you don’t even tell me? You decide not to bother climbing the mountain we’ve been training for our whole lives, and you don’t bother to tell me that? What the fuck is going on with you?”

  I get it, she’s angry, but God, I’m angry too, and the frustration builds until I punch the bed, again and again.

  She yanks my arm back. “No! You don’t get to be the one to throw a fit. Not this time! You kissed me! You kissed me and had sex with me, and then you disappeared! This was our trip! Remember when this was what you wanted to do more than anything?”

  I yank my arm free of her. “Yeah, well, things change! But not like you or Jordan ever fucking notice. No, the train just kept charging down the track, never mind if Tate’s a little fucked up and broken and dragging behind! You kept on going, ignoring anything but your fucking need to be the best, so that you can race up the mountain and tag it and add one more thing to the list of Rose’s Incredible Achievements—”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you actually pissed that I’m still planning to climb? That I’m doing the thing that we’ve been training to do for ten years? Because you choose to walk away means I’m supposed to feel bad and sit this one out? No! You left. You chose to leave me. So you don’t get to be an asshole because I’m still going for it.”

  “It wasn’t a fucking choice!” I scream at her. “I don’t want to disappear! I don’t fucking want any of this! I wish I’d broken my leg or hell, my neck, back on Rainier! Because then maybe you and my dad would think that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay for this poor bastard to take a break!”

  She stares at me.

  “You think you had no choice? You wish you were hurt worse? Do you have any idea—any idea at all—what Maya would do to be here, healthy and able to climb?” Her voice is rising.

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry, okay! I’m so fucking sorry that I won’t be there in my usual spot as Rose’s top cheerleader! But this isn’t all about you! Jesus, you’re selfish!” I look at her. “Did you ever think to ask why I can’t climb?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes red and her cheeks blotchy, but she doesn’t cry. “You fucking coward. You could climb. You don’t want to. And you don’t care whose hearts you break on your way back down.”

  She storms out of the room, and I slam the door behind her so hard that the walls rattle. Rage pulses through me, beating in time with my heart, but I make myself stay in the room, ignoring Dad’s knock on the door, Paul’s soft questions, everything. I am hollow, empty, nothing. I have nothing to say to any of them.

  In the morning, they head back to Base Camp, and I come out long enough to mutter goodbye before disappearing back into my room. Then they’re gone, and I’m alone again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four:

  Rose

  May 10–12

  Everest Base Camp

  17,600 feet above sea level

  Back at Base Camp, I am somehow Rose Recharged, my anger driving me like a motor. I do not think about Tate, not about his eyes when I called him a coward, not about his mouth on mine. It’s as though he was never here. Neither Luc nor Yoon Su seem too curious about why he’s not climbing, and I realize everyone here is so focused on their own summit that everything else fades into background noise. It’s only for me that his absence is an abyss.

  Paul stays close to me, sensing the hole, and tries to make me smile, sharing photos that Drew sent of their dog in a variety of ridiculous hats, and we joke and laugh and pretend everything is normal. From the other side of the table, Jordan coughs, loud and wet. As much as he tries to believe otherwise, Jordan came back from Pheriche no better than he went down.

  We all pretend we don’t hear him, and he carries on talking to Luc like nothing’s wrong. There is a lot of pretending happening.

  I make myself check email, promising myself that I will respond no matter what. Sure enough, there’s a new one from Mami.

  Rosalita, we follow the EVEREST news on the Mountain Adventure blog and website, and we are SOOOOO excited for you! The BIG DAY is coming. I know without your phone you are not getting email often, so I will just say we LOVE YOU so much and can’t wait to hear your voice after the summit. We will be waiting by the phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give big hugs to Paul, Jordan, and of course the amazing TATER-TOT.

  All is well here—xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxox Mami

  I don’t say anything for a minute. Guilt churns in my stomach. I should be writing more. I should be bringing Mami with me, every step of the way. I promised.

  Paul looks over my shoulder. “Everything okay? How’s Maya feeling?”

  I shrug. “She’s okay. Doing physical therapy.” I try to keep my voice level, but Paul gives me a sharp look.

  “I know it’s an enormous shift, this diagnosis, but don’t write her off. MS is a strange beast, and many people are able to live symptom-free for a long time. Your mama is one fierce woman. She’s going to find the best possible way to make her life work as well as it can, Rosie.”

  “I know.” I answer quickly, trying not to shout out the obvious: her life will never let her climb Everest or any other mountain again. But his words give me courage. I hit reply and type:

  Mami and Dad—internet very spotty, so I can’t be on for long, but I love you both so much. SO SO SO SO much. Trip has been incredible. Summit should be in the next week or so—WOW!!! A million zillion besos from your Rosalita

  Then I press send and log out. I feel better. Stronger, somehow. I can do this.

  I nudge Paul. “Hey. Thank you. You know, for everything.” I don’t bother to say what we both know, that being here without Mami or Tate would have been unthinkable without him.

  He grins. “ ‘What can I say, except…You’re WELCOME!’ ” he sings, channeling the god Maui from Moana.

  I shake my head. “How can you even remember all these songs? Do you study them at night to torment me?”

  “Come on! These are some seriously catchy tunes. You’re being a hater,” he says. “But in all seriousness, despite all the commercialism and, yeah, some problematic body image stuff, the themes of these movies are universal. Themes of identity, pushing back against parental expectations, staying strong in the face of adversity, trying to understand and accept yourself…These are big! I use them as an entry point to hard conversations with the kids I’m treating, and, trite as it may be, we can all connect with these heroes’ journeys.”

  “If you say so,” I say, shrugging. “But I think you just want a chance to channel the Rock.”

  He laughs. “Okay, that might be part of it.”

  We join Luc and Yoon Su at the big table, where they are playing Connect Four and trash-talking each other, while Bishal and some of the porters watch.

  Yoon Su looks up when I come over. “Finally! Some female reinforcement! Maybe you will convince him that the definition of insanity is repeating the same steps and expecting a different result. I’ll beat you every time we play! Haven’t you learned by now?”

  Luc laughs and shakes his head. “I am lulling you into a sense of security, chérie. You are unable to understand the higher strategy I—”

  “I win again!” Yoon Su crows, dropping a red piece into the game with a clatter, and the porters applaud.

  I can’t help laughing along with t
hem, patting Luc on the back as he drops his head in shame.

  “Ah! Wait until we are back in Kathmandu. I will challenge you to a road race. Or a tennis match. Or cycling! High jump!” He continues to think up contests where he might win while Yoon Su takes a photo of her winning board.

  Luc leans against me. “Tell the truth. Do I seem less manly now that I have been beaten in this way?” he asks, and I can’t help it, I laugh harder.

  Yoon Su walks over and squeezes me in a fast hug. “You’re on my side, right?”

  I fist-bump her. “Totally,” I say. “Sorry, Luc. Sisters before misters.”

  He whoops and repeats it, his accent rendering it hilarious. “Seesters before meesters! Alors, I can never win against such women!”

  Yoon Su winks at me, and I grin, the excitement of the room driving out all thoughts of Mami, of Tate, even of the mountain above. For a moment at least, I am right here.

  We are so close. At this point we are all on different schedules, climbing or resting based on Finjo and Dr. Celina’s assessment of our readiness, so it’s rare and wonderful to all be together for the night. It is almost time. Now we wait on the weather.

  * * *

  —

  Two days later I wake up early and head into the mess tent to find out: Jordan is gone. I slide onto the bench next to Paul and Yoon Su, listening as Finjo fills them in.

  “He was bad again in the night. Dr. Celina looked him over and did not like his O2 levels. She tried the Gamwow for overnight, but this morning she decided he needed to descend.”

  Two nights ago we all slept at Camp Two, our tents bending and folding in the screaming wind. Jordan was with us, but he looked bad. I hadn’t seen him since we stumbled into Base Camp the following morning.

  Finjo is still talking. “So there is nothing we can do for Jordan. Now we must focus on our next steps, not his.”

  I glance up from the coffee one of the porters had brought me the minute I sat down. This sounds a little harsh. Paul seems to think so too, judging by his look of concern. But Yoon Su nods vigorously.

  “Yes. Now we must think about ourselves.”

  I shoot her a dirty look and she looks surprised.

  “What?” she asks. “Cameron in the weather tent says the weather window is going to open and close early this year. Much earlier than usual. There may only be one chance. We—”

  I cut her off. “Stop and let Finjo talk.”

  Yoon Su looks annoyed. “Why are you angry at me? I’m preparing for the summit. I care about Jordan, but the lungs of your friend aren’t within my control.”

  This is the part of Everest I hate. Yoon Su has been a woman possessed. She climbs mostly with Luc, and even though she weighs around a hundred pounds, she stays with him step for step. She sometimes stops to throw up but then stands and keeps climbing. I’ve never experienced a team that climbs the way this one does. Usually team members are, quite literally, holding each other’s lives in their hands. There is a kind of trust that takes years to build. Here, each climber is on her own. Unbidden, my thoughts fly to Tate, who is the most loyal partner I know. Except that he left me here.

  Before I can say anything more, Paul speaks up. “Yoon Su, Rose is concerned about a teammate’s health, which affects all of us who are supposed to climb together. Rather than listening to Cameron in the weather tent, let’s worry about today’s climb, okay?”

  Yoon Su looks annoyed, but she nods. “Fine,” she says. But she won’t look at me.

  Finjo smiles his cat smile and puts an arm around each of us, including Paul in the hug. “We are a team! All of us! Let’s make sure we get along, right? Right.”

  We all nod, sort of.

  “So. Yoon Su is right, we must keep going and take advantage when the mountain gives us a chance. In fact, Cameron wants me back in the tent to look at more weather reports. But Rose is also right. We cannot rush. We must take care, okay?”

  Again we all nod. Like a well-meaning parent, Finjo has tried to please both of us but has only managed to annoy us. I barely grunt as he tells us to meet in an hour, ready to climb, and I stalk off to get breakfast.

  I’ve been sitting for almost the whole hour, trying to lose myself in my book, when Asha walks over.

  “Big day, no?” she says.

  I am not sure what she means, but I smile and nod.

  Before she can say anything more, Yoon Su rushes back in, a brilliant gleam of the sunrise cutting through the dimness as she opens the flap of the tent.

  “Rose! Is Finjo back?” she asks. Her voice is loud and excited, her eyes flashing.

  I shake my head and she mutters something. “Stay here! I’ll find him and come right back.” She disappears again.

  I shrug, wondering what’s up now, but my mind is drifting. We are so close. An itch of anxiety runs through me, but I don’t know if it’s excitement to climb or impatience to be done: with the bloody noses that come most days, with the cough that has cracked one rib, with my bleeding fingertips, with watching my teammates’ faces get gaunter and grimmer—and knowing I look just as bad.

  Asha’s voice startles me. “So will we go?”

  “Huh? Go where?” I ask.

  “Summit push. Peak Experience and Adventure Experts are both heading up now. The weather window is good, Cameron says, and it won’t last long. This season is likely to be a short one.”

  I am stunned. A kind of vertigo sweeps over me, though I haven’t moved from my seat by the fire. Today? Is that what Yoon Su is talking about?

  “Now?” I ask. “What about Jordan?”

  Asha shrugs.

  I stand, my tea forgotten. Where is Paul? Are we really going to climb before Jordan gets back? He will be crushed, when he comes back, if we’re all gone. If he comes back.

  I nearly walk right into Paul, who is walking toward me.

  “Rose! You’re hearing the same rumors I am, I guess,” he says, his face tight and concerned. “I tried to find Finjo, or anyone, frankly, but people seem to have scattered.” He stares ahead, his face tight, before continuing. “According to Bishal, who got his information from Yoon Su—Jesus, this is like high school—Cam says the weather window is going to be early and short this year, due to unusually high temps in the Bay of Bengal leading to an earlier monsoon season. Or something like that. Anyway, point being that the weather often isn’t optimal until later in May, but here we are on May eleventh with an open window of a few good days, and that might be all we get.”

  “But what about Jordan?” I ask. “I’m sure he’s still hoping to recover enough to make a summit bid. He thought he’d have another week.”

  Paul is quiet for a minute. When he speaks, I lean close to hear him. “I don’t know why any of us thought we wanted to climb this mountain, but we did. And now we’re here, recognizing that we had no idea what the hell we were in for. And I’m listening to you, thinking you’re right; this is Jordan’s dream, and we would be heartless to carry on without him.”

  “You don’t want to go,” I say flatly. I don’t know if I’m relieved or horrified.

  “I do want to go,” Paul says. “I want to go more than I’ve wanted almost anything. It is literally painful to think about staying here, being the good pal, the rare all-for-one-and-one-for-all guy on the mountain, and missing the window. I want to go. I want to climb this thing. But I don’t know if I like the kind of climber…the kind of person…that makes me.”

  We’re silent for a minute. The summit pulls at me, every image I’ve ever seen flashing in my brain. My climb. Not Mami’s, not Tate’s, not even Jordan’s. I want this so much. Does that make me a horrible person?

  I try to take a deep breath, but a fit of coughing overtakes me. Finally I look up. “I want to go.”

  Paul nods. “Yeah. Me too.”

  We head out into the icy blister of the wind, the mountains
blazing glorious and white above us.

  Chapter Twenty-Five:

  Tate

  May 8–13

  Pheriche to Base Camp

  14,300 feet above sea level

  I didn’t watch Rose and the rest of them leave. Instead I locked myself back in my room after saying goodbye, trying to ignore the feeling that my vital organs were walking away from me. But after around ten minutes, I left the lodge and walked up the trail until I could see them in the distance. I stayed there, watching Rose laugh at something Yoon Su said, shove Luc when he interrupted them, walking farther and farther away. Before they rounded the trail, Rose turned, and I pressed myself into the shadows. She looked around at the jaw-dropping valley view that spread out beneath her and flashed a grin that nearly turned me inside-fucking-out. Even though it wasn’t for me. Then she turned and was gone.

  For the next two days, I’m basically a zombie, wandering around Pheriche trying to imagine a world where we’re down off this mountain, away from dust and cold and burnt-yak-shit smell, where fresh fruit and ocean breezes and electricity are once again part of my everyday life. Bo leaves me alone once he realizes that I can’t even suck it up enough to watch playoff basketball with him.

  I’m so untethered I feel like I could float away and no one would notice, like everything holding me to Earth—Rose, school, parents, music, surfing, friends, chores—has disappeared. For the first time, I miss home and Mom with an ache that feels bottomless: I realize that after this trip I’ll have only the summer before I leave for college, coming home a few times a year. Even when we get down from here, even when this is over, everything will be different. Not a climber. Not Rose’s best friend. Not a high school screwup fighting with my parents. Who the hell am I, after this?

  I’m sitting in the lodge, sketching sad homesick drawings of beaches and Rose and Rose on the beach when the door bangs open and Dad and Bishal walk in.

  This isn’t good. We stare at each other, and I try to hide my shock at how he looks.