Sihpromatum - Backpacks and Bra Straps

by Savannah Grace

  “What can we say? Travelling does things to you,” Ammon said, but Mom simply smiled.

  “I just figured if Savannah was brave enough to do it, then so was I,” Mom said. She was the last person Stephanie, or I, for that matter, would expect to do such a thing, especially after she’d ridiculed Steph for having a belly ring. Steph’s blatantly provocative ways and Mom’s conservatism had never mixed well, and the sentiment went both ways.

  As a yawn escaped her, Steph said, “Oh, I’m so tired. I look terrible. I’ve been in transit for, like, twenty-four hours.”

  I stared at her, shaking my head. “You smell like a sweet, fragrant bath.”

  She let out a laugh. “You’re such a weirdo. I love you.”

  We stuffed ourselves into a taxi and the four girls piled on top of each other in the back, making sure Stephanie had a window seat. Bree theatrically announced, “And then there were five. Dum-da-dum-dum.”

  Ammon responded appropriately and predictably. “Yep, another female to threaten my sanity. Just what the doctor ordered. But I need to make one thing clear. There’s just one rule. You are going to keep your dirty rats and bra straps off my backpack. I will not tolerate any more of that kind of abuse – from anyone.”

  Steph gave him an inquisitive look and Bree jibed, “You’re going to have to listen to us from now on, mister. We’ve got lots of ammunition, enough among all of us not only to decorate your backpack, but to stuff the entire thing, too.”

  I leaned behind Bree and whispered an explanation to Steph, “He hates having our underwear anywhere near him. If you ever want to get back at him, that’s the quickest way to do it.”

  “Oh, so it’s to be blackmail, is it?” Ammon said. “I’ve already nearly admitted myself to rehab how many times on your account?”

  “Yeah, and just what are you planning to do about it?” Bree smirked.

  “I’m going to hang you with them,” he said.

  I couldn’t contain my laughter. “First you’ll have to work up the courage to touch them!”

  “Poor Ammon,” Mom explained. “Not only has he had to put up with three women for months on end, he also has to deal with everyone thinking he’s my husband and they’re his twin daughters. I’m curious about where the locals are going to fit you into this picture.”

  Steph laughed and patted his head from behind. “Been rough on you, has it?

  “Yes. Especially with that one.” He tilted his head toward Bree.

  “Hey. You started that last fight,” she said.

  I closed my eyes in despair. “Was it even worth it? Do you guys even remember what you were fighting about?”

  “Yeah, of course. She was being even more stupid than usual.”

  “And he was pissing me off.” Oh geez, here we go again, I thought, but Steph’s infectious laugh highlighted their silly behaviour, and I heaved a sigh of relief. It was still a pretty fine line between those two these days.

  “We can be such idiots,” Bree laughed.

  “Poor girl, I would hate to be meeting up with these jokesters,” I said. “I’ve been trying to escape from them for months now, and you willingly join them? You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for.”

  “Oh, she’s safe with us.” Ammon faced forward again and said, just loud enough for her to hear, “For now, anyway.”

  “Speaking of backpacks, you’re so lucky,” I said. “Your bag is so small. You hardly packed anything.”

  “Yeah, and half of what’s in here is for you guys,” she said. “You scared me half to death, you know, saying I had to catch a taxi from the airport to the hotel on my own. I was seriously going to die if you’d left me there alone. You guys are so mean. And then you said I needed a sleeping bag. Do I really need one? ‘Cause I don’t even own one. But we’ll figure it out, I suppose. Right now, I want to know how you guys are doing. It feels like it’s been so long, but then when I see you, it’s the same as always. Except now you’re world travellers. And oh my God, I missed you so much, Bree.”

  Wrapping her arms around Steph’s neck, Bree squeezed her till she squeaked. “I missed you the most.”

  “Bree has spent as much time reading as the rest of us, which, if you know Bree, proves that we are on the other side of the world,” Ammon told her. “Though I suspect she has no idea where we are.”

  “Hey! I do too. We’re in the car,” she said, pausing on purpose to irritate him, “in Kathmandu, Nepal, Asia, with my bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

  “Yep, and now we’re on the same side of the – Oh my God! Was that a monkey?” Steph gasped and nearly knocked her head on the window. “On the roof. Look! Over there!” We’d left the somewhat calm airport and re-emerged into the real chaos of the city, where Steph quickly forgot her jet lag and came to life.

  “Why is he honking? There’s no reason for him to be honking.” She pointed and screeched at every sight as questions poured out of her. “Is there a snake in that basket?” “Why are they hanging meat outside? Don’t they have fridges?” “Do they know what side of the road they’re supposed to drive on?”

  Driving on the left side of the road enhanced her feeling that we were about to crash, especially when all the drivers here played chicken right up to the very last second as they competed for the centre of the road. Steph instinctively expected our driver to swerve to the right at the last moment to avoid collisions, so when we jolted to the left, she would scream, certain we were doomed. I was amused by her reactions, which reminded me of my own first experiences of travel. She pointed out a dozen things that we otherwise would have overlooked. We’d become so accustomed to monkeys on roofs, hanging carcasses being eaten by bees, and chaotic traffic that it was refreshing to be able to re-experience it all again vicariously through her eyes. Steph had also come just in time to break up the souring, negative feelings smouldering below the surface. Our group’s morale had been fading, especially since that night in Tibet when we’d gone for each other’s throats.

  She’d arrived with a one-way ticket, and none of us knew where the road would take us. She had talked of staying anywhere from six weeks to six months. Though we didn’t think she would last that long on the road with us, we wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that others hadn’t given us. She was fresh out of high school and could have done just about anything she wanted. She’d gotten a summer job and saved up enough money to come and travel with us. Luckily for her, she had Ammon, AKA the friendly, local budget police officer, to help make it last.

  When we brought her home to our humble abode, Ammon swung open the crooked door and said, “Home sweet home. We’ve been spending $1.25 Canadian a night per person for our rooms. With you here, Steph, we’ll be down to a new record of a dollar per person per night. You gotta love that, eh?”

  “What’s your personal record?” Steph asked him.

  “Seventy-five cents a day in Laos,” he quickly replied, not needing a second to think about it.

  “Awesome,” Bree said.

  “And with food only costing two bucks for all of us to eat as much as we want, our money’s really going a long way.”

  “Yeah, ha-ha.” Steph let out a nervous laugh. “That’s amazing. But…,” she was cautiously eying her new surroundings, “what could we get for, like, ten dollars?”

  “Are you crazy? If you spend that kind of money every day, you’ll have none left in a month. And this place is fine,” he said, waving her tentative question off.

  I whispered to Steph, “You could get a really nice place for ten bucks, with room service and everything.”

  As soon as she dropped her backpack, we insisted on raiding it.

  “Wow! You weren’t kidding when you said more than half of this is for us,” Bree said, as she reached in and found Charleston Chews, Smarties, Sour Patch Kids, Whoppers, and more. Our faces glowed as she pulled each treasure from her small red backpack. Sandra had sent a package of goodies with Steph for us, which was so exciting and also, literal
ly, sweet of her. Sandra’d sent a special gift for me which I immediately unwrapped. I was elated to find my very first matching bra and panty set and clutched them to my chest in pure joy. I hoped she could feel my gratitude as I held them out, admiring the pink lacing. The smell of the scented beads in the bottom of the La Senza bag momentarily took me away to another time.

  Sensing that I was about to run off and try them on, Ammon said, “Oh, no way. Don’t you dare even think about modelling that in here while I’m around.”

  Bree was especially particular when it came to things having to be fair so, to avoid any quarrels, she separated the candy into five Ziploc bags, even going so far as to cut the last gummy bears in pieces to even out the bags. It felt like we were in heaven to have all the great stuff from home that we’d so dearly missed.

  “I know Steph doesn’t realize how important this candy is to us right now, but she will in a few days,” I said, savouring my bag of treats.

  The grungy room she shared with us was a windowless, dank, hole but it was all for us – just Bree, Steph, and me. Having spent a week here already as we waited for Steph to arrive, it already felt like home and we girls were going to have the best slumber party ever!

  As soon as Mom and Ammon left to go to their room, Steph turned to me. “So, tell me about Grady.”

  I glared at Bree and, through clenched teeth, asked, “You told her? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you not to open your big fat mouth.” I’d confessed my crush to Bree only a couple of days ago when Mom had left us behind for the day to go sightseeing with Ammon. Since we’d arrived in the capital, where Internet cafes were accessible and cheap, I’d spent hours and hours online with Grady almost every day. I would have burst if I hadn’t told someone. There was no way I could hold it in when Bree started prying, as only Bree can do – it wouldn’t have surprised me if she had already snooped through my stuff and seen the endless hearts with ‘G+S’ and ‘Savannah Jones’ written in my journal.

  “Oh, we all knew anyway,” Steph barged in.

  “Knew what? There’s nothing going on.”

  “That you like him, duh!” I was a terrible liar at the best of times, and the deep blush I felt creeping up my cheeks couldn’t be blamed on the heat. I’d liked Grady for years, but we’d grown a lot closer lately (which was a bit ironic, given how far apart we were physically). I’d begun to wonder if anybody even noticed my absence until Grady started writing. Terri had been writing less and less, not because she didn’t care or still love me, but because high school and her other friends took a lot of her time and she’d sort of run out of things to say. Grady and I essentially became pen pals, waiting for each other online and talking every day that I could get online.

  He was genuinely interested in what I had to say. If I didn’t come online, he would email to ask how I was and what kinds of adventures I was getting into next. I told him about my worries, hopes, and dreams, and he was amused by my struggles when I described our family dramas, long bus rides, and days without showers. When I told him about having to poo on the side of the highway in broad daylight, he burst out laughing. When Grady helped me see the comical side of my dilemmas, I couldn’t resist laughing, too.

  He told me that he wanted to travel and wished he could be experiencing it with us. Having just graduated from high school like Stephanie, he’d gotten a job and said he wanted to save up to join us too. Oh, how I hoped he would. Grady showed me how lucky I was to be given the opportunity to travel the world with my family. He pointed out that I should take advantage of those moments and treasure every sight and smell. With his eye for detail and his naturally artistic nature, he was very convincing. He filled that empty hole of loneliness and homesickness, and he always seemed to be there for me. I’d never felt more important to anyone, and I was really happy about how close we were getting.

  Once the girls had gotten it out of me that I liked him – heck, that I might even love him – the dam was open. My feelings for him flooded out endlessly, surprising even me, but it was a relief to be able to jump up and down on the bed and admit that I wanted him after holding it in for so long.

  But then came the next problem. Did he feel the same way? And if so, how was I ever going to be with him when I was all the way over here? For three whole years I’d been crazy about him, and now that there might be a chance for us, I was on the other side of the blasphemous planet.

  “He is a really sweet guy. I already kind of talked to him on MSN,” Stephanie admitted. “I asked him if he liked you–”

  “No! You did not!” I gasped and slapped my hand over my mouth.

  “Shhh, shhh,” she said, putting up a hand to calm me as I reached for a dirty, terribly flat pillow to hug and hide under. “And he said something along the lines of, ‘Yeah, we’ll see what happens when she gets back’.” She made a waving ‘tada’ motion, as if to say, “See? No worries.”

  “No… Did he really say that?” I fell flat onto my back daydreaming, oblivious to the cobwebs and the water-stained ceiling.

  “Yes, he really did.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to allow myself to believe Steph’s story. I couldn’t stop thinking it over from a hundred different angles. Hmmmm… ‘We’ll see what happens’. Like, as in, he might consider me as more than just a friend?

  “He knew what you were asking, right? Like, if he ‘like’ likes me?” I was doing a poor job of hiding my excitement.

  “Of course he did. He’d be an idiot not to be crazy about you. Look at what you’re doing. You are way more interesting than those bimbos at home,” Steph said, and I was surprised to hear that being a bimbo was something she would criticize other girls for.

  “I’m just going to come right out and ask him,” Bree said impatiently. “He’s my best friend. He’ll tell me.”

  “No, no don’t. What if…?”

  “I already told you,” Bree said, rolling her eyes at my lack of faith. “The answer won’t be no.”

  Slowly leaning back against the cold concrete wall and squeezing the grey pillow in my arms, I thought, We’ll see, Grady, we’ll see. In a swirl of both fear and excitement, the butterflies in my stomach were practically flying out of my mouth.

  Flying High

  35

  Two days later we woke up at 6:00 a.m. to catch an early taxi back to Kathmandu’s airport. We were about to start the much-anticipated trek to Everest Base Camp. Getting through airport security involved a vigorous frisking. Luckily the examination lines were separated by gender, but having my freshly grown boobs fondled by anyone was enough to get my heart racing. I looked behind me just in time to see Stephanie’s eyes pop as the woman reached between her legs and made her jump.

  “What was all that about?” I asked, straightening my shirt.

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t want to tell you what just happened to my junk,” Ammon said. “My guess is that they’ve added extra security because the Maoist rebels have been acting up. In any case, I’m glad that part is over.”

  “Okay, everyone. Time to take one of these,” Mom said, cracking out the pills. “It should be spectacular in the Himalayan Mountains. But we’re heading for what will probably – well actually, make that definitely – be our toughest challenge yet.”

  “Ummmm, Maggie? What’s that you’re feeding us?” Steph asked with a curious smile. “Is this to get over that recent trauma?”

  “Oh c’mon, you know you liked it,” Ammon teased.

  “Oh, ha ha,” Mom laughed, looking down at her handful of pills. “It’s gingko, a natural herb to help prevent altitude sickness. We took them when we went over the high passes in Tibet, and we’ve been taking them for the last few days to help us adjust to this next hike. So far, they seem to work pretty well. Ammon came down with a mild case of altitude sickness, but the rest of us did fine.”

  We’d bought plane tickets from one of the many travel companies in our neighbourhood. The one-way, thirty-five-minute flight from Kathmandu to Lukla, the kickoff point for Everest�
�s trekking route, cost us about ninety US dollars each. Apart from our initial six hundred dollar flights to where we started in Hong Kong and our hundred dollar Russian visas, this was our biggest expense yet.

  It wasn’t long before we heard our boarding call, and a small tram took us to where we boarded from the tarmac – a new experience for me. We handed our two big backpacks over to be loaded in the under compartment of the small green-and-white Twin Otter and climbed up the rusty metal stairs. As I ducked down to get in, I saw that its small compartment had nineteen squishy passenger seats. It smelled faintly of petrol and the rickety plane reminded me of my first-ever airplane ride.

  As part of the family tour business my parents had owned before we set out on this adventure, skydiving was one of the many activities we offered to ESL students coming to Vancouver from all over the world. I’d been watching Japanese students jump from planes since I was five years old. Because we brought so much business to the small, family-owned and operated drop zone, they offered our family free jumps and lessons.

  I was thirteen and Steph and Bree were sixteen when we decided it was finally our turn to take the long-awaited plunge. It was a gorgeous fall day with an inviting blue sky, and when the three o’clock bell rang to release us from another boring day of high school, we invited Terri to join us. She had to decline because we couldn’t give her enough notice to get permission from her dad, so Bree decided to call Grady.

  “Hey. Wanna go skydiving?” Bree’d asked over speakerphone.

  “Yeah, sure. That sounds like fun. When?” Grady asked.

  “Right now! Be on the street in ten minutes with two hundred bucks and a permission note from your Mom.”

  “Umm… Okay, but my mom’s not actually home. Do you think it’d be okay if my aunt signed?” Ten minutes later we did a drive by and threw him in our van.

  Bree and Steph were inseparable friends even then and naturally went up together in the first load. Only two tandem jumpers fit in each plane, so I’d had my secret crush all to myself. The tiny four-passenger plane had no seats; we sat side-by-side on the floor in the back, strapped securely to our instructors with our knees tucked up to our chests. The plastic door flap was rolled up even during takeoff, and the engine roared and wind blew fiercely as the short runway blurred beneath us. Sitting on the ledge beside the open door, I watched as the ground became smaller and smaller – how absolutely exhilarating that was. I couldn’t believe I was going to jump out of the first plane I’d ever climbed into.