Sihpromatum - Backpacks and Bra Straps

by Savannah Grace

  “You gotta do what you gotta do,” Bree said. “Now, on the count of three. One, two, three!” Ducking out the door, one after the next, we ran like mad with icy-wet hair and steaming bodies, the last of our body heat dispersing into the thin air. Bolting across the open courtyard below the panoramic restaurant, it was hard not to notice all the guys up on the deck who, gentlemen that they were, quickly turned their heads away when we rushed out. We ran back to the cold room across the courtyard, up a narrow ladder staircase, and down a long, open-air hallway.

  Crashing into our room, I said, “Oh no, I don’t even want to think about what those guys must’ve been imagining, knowing how guys are. I’m so embarrassed. I’m skipping dinner. There’s no way I can face them.”

  “Oh, who cares?” Bree said while Steph whined, “It’s so cold. Why can’t they turn up the heat?”

  “Maybe there aren’t enough of us to justify it,” I said.

  “They’re not going to waste their precious resources on the likes of you three,” Ammon said through the wall.

  “Are you spying on us?” Steph said to the wall with an accusing expression.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. You guys are so loud, who needs to spy?”

  Jumping to keep the blood from freezing in our veins, we even tried to conserve the heat from the small candle sitting on the desk. Rummaging through the pile of clean-ish clothes we’d left out, Bree confessed in a panic, “Oh no. No, no, no. I stepped on my retainer. Oh man, it’s crushed to pieces.” Slowly sitting down on the bed, half dazed and gaping at the three broken pieces in her hand, she said, “What am I going to do now?”

  “How on earth did you manage to do that? Isn’t it supposed to be in your mouth?” I said.

  “I have to take it out to eat, and I guess I just forgot it in my coat pocket, and I stepped on it. Mom’s going to kill me.” Looking to me in desperation, she begged, “Please, Savannah, you have to take the blame for this one. Tell Mom you did it. Please???” Since forever, we had taken the blame for each other’s mishaps. For some reason, we found it a lot easier to take responsibility for something we hadn’t done. We were happy to trade taking the blame in return for a long list of IOUs to be repaid later. Bree had once taken the blame when I’d accidentally locked the car keys in the trunk and saved me from even more guilt than I felt already.

  “Fine. I don’t care. Not sure what you’re so afraid of, though. It’s you who should be upset that your retainer is broken, not Mom,” I said. Bree was missing five of her permanent teeth, and after a great deal of expensive orthodontic treatment, there was only one gap left where a right eye tooth would’ve been. The orthodontist had created a retainer especially for her with a fake tooth to replace the one that was missing, and she wore it religiously.

  When we’d dressed and gone down for dinner, I outstretched my palms and slowly opened them to reveal the three pink broken pieces to Mom. With a deep inhale and the best guilt-ridden face I could muster, I told her I’d stepped on Bree’s retainer. Her reaction was much like I’d predicted it would be.

  “Hmmm, well that’s not good. Give it to me and I’ll try to super-glue it back together. And you should really be wearing yours, Savannah,” she said. The braces and headgear I’d worn for years had to be removed prematurely before we left Vancouver. I was given a retainer to keep my teeth in place, but I’d sat on mine and bent the wire early on in the trip.

  “Yeah, Savannah,” Steph said. “Your teeth better not go back to the way they were before. Oh my God! I remember when I first met you. I thought you were a monster child because your teeth were so crooked and bucked out. You looked pretty scary.”

  “Just imagine how you would look now if you hadn’t gotten braces,” Mom said. “So make sure you wear yours, too, or they may slip back and get crooked again. Go get me the super glue and I’ll try to do something with Bree’s.” Bree and I walked back to the rooms to find Mom’s glue, which was always kept somewhere handy.

  “See? If I’d told her I did it, she would have killed me,” Bree said, shaking her head.

  “Are you serious? You worry too much. That’s so stupid. She can’t really get mad if it was an accident. You have to stop thinking that Mom likes me better.”

  “She does, though.” Bree insisted. “I sure hope her super glue does the trick.”

  I don’t think we really fooled Mom, though. She knew us well enough to know that if I really had broken Bree’s retainer, she would have had to peel Bree’s hands off my throat, a bit like Marge trying to stop Homer Simpson from choking Bart to death.

  Bree allowed the glue to dry as we laughed over a dal bhat dinner, telling Steph all of our most exciting stories thus far. The Gobi Desert experience in particular had her laughing and gasping for air until I started leaping about when I forgot to let a burning hot spoonful cool.

  “Aah, aah, hot.” I leaned over with my mouth open to show Steph, and she instinctively tried to cool it down by blowing on it. I laughed so hard that I nearly spit it out onto her face. We were saved any further embarrassment when Ammon brought his bag of shared candy to the table.

  “Can I have one of those ones?” Bree asked.

  “No way. Go get your own candy.”

  “I don’t have any left,” she confessed.

  “What? We’ve barely even started, and yours is all gone?”

  “You were supposed to pace yourself,” Mom said.

  “I couldn’t help myself. How could I possibly save them when they smelled so good? They were calling my name? Heavenly.” Ammon waved his full bag in her face and teased her for the longest time before he finally shared.

  “So, what’s your plan? Are you really coming back after a year?” Steph asked. “How long have you been out? It seems like forever. It’s just not the same without you at home.”

  “It’s only been five months,” Bree said.

  “I mean, are you coming home after India? Or where are you going next?” This was the same question we’d been hounding Ammon for an answer to but he only ever responded with, “First let me get us to India; then you can ask me again.” Now that we were nearing India, the answer wasn’t any clearer, but I knew two things for sure: We weren’t going home after India, and we weren’t stopping after a year. Where we would end up was anyone’s guess at this point.

  “We’ve seen so much. The only problem with that is, once you start travelling, you find out how much more there is to see,” Mom said. “Sorta like the more you learn, the more you find out you don’t know.” I knew she was referring to Iran and Pakistan even before she said, “I mean, look how many people we’ve met who have said how great Iran is. I never really would have expected that. Now I just want to see it all for myself and go everywhere.”

  “What?! You guys aren’t serious. You can’t go to Iran! It’s too dangerous there. Sky is going to kill you if you do that. And Pakistan? Tell me I’m not hearing this,” Steph said, plugging her ears. Before we could finish discussing our options the lodge started to fill with older Japanese tourists. Bree, Steph, and I decided to be friendly and impress them with our few Japanese phrases and show them some card tricks. They quickly dubbed Bree a Japanese magician and we indulged in simple games like Cat’s Cradle and Rock/Paper/Scissors. Once we’d run through our admittedly small bag of tricks with that crowd and they’d retired for the night, we targeted our next audience – the Sherpas.

  Because their song was still stuck in our heads and we couldn’t stop singing it, they insisted on hearing a Canadian song. Since all three of us have dual American/Canadian citizenship, Stephanie chose to sing both countries’ national anthems, but she got the biggest round of applause from the smiling Sherpas when she sang “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” and “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” and they asked if they could sing along with us. Hearing their efforts to learn the lyrics to songs we’d known since childhood was such fun that, before long, we were teaching them Bree’s temporary names; Bubble Fish and Pinocchio were pronounced ‘b
ooblefiss’ and ‘peeno-kio’, which soon had everyone laughing. Then Steph had another fun idea.

  “We want to know what Nepali dancing looks like. Can you show us?” she asked, pointing for them to demonstrate in the centre of the room. More than willing, Dendee, Pinocchio, Teak, Bubble Fish, Outcast, and D.L. instructed the staff to turn the music up and, with their arms raised high, they began jumping and spinning. We all joined in and had a riot. Steph, in turn, instructed her Nepali class on how to do the Chicken Dance. Bree and I had to sit down, lest we burst from our side-splitting laughter.

  “I always thought D.L. was so quiet and shy, but look at him go. He’s just having a great time, and he’s so funny,” I said to Bree, who was wiping tears from her sparkling green eyes. The more we laughed, the more we coughed on the thick smoke escaping the small potbellied stove in the corner. A light breeze came in through the cracks between the windows and the wall’s wooden slats, but it wasn’t nearly enough to clear the air.

  “Here, you guys. Give me the camera. Where is it? I have to take a picture,” Steph said as she got everyone to stand together. When Bree instinctively started making funny faces, Steph encouraged everyone to do the same. “Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Let’s see your funniest faces.”

  “Funny faces?” Dendee said, screwing up his face questioningly.

  “Yeah, just like that.”

  “Steph, I do not understand funny face. How you doing this?”

  “Do something silly with your face. Like this. Or like this.” Steph went on to explain ‘how to make a funny face’, a class I never thought I’d see. We helped by showing them cross-eyes and pulling our ears.

  Then we brought out the cards and taught them the simple but aggressive card game named SLAP. Our hands were already red and bruised when Bree noticed a cold breeze from the open door. “Hey look. That’s the Kiwi guys’ Sherpa, Jimmy, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is,” Steph confirmed, instantly looking around in hopes of spotting the three large men from New Zealand we’d met earlier on the trek. We hadn’t seen them for two days and assumed they were gone forever, or at least way ahead of us. The girls waved Jimmy over to join in on our card game. Despite their efforts to act casual, before long, Steph was asking about the guys and confessing that she liked them.

  “Oh, you pretty girls liking big men,” he said and smiled like the devious matchmaker he was. “I taking you. Come. We go to big, strong men.”

  “No, no,” Steph said, practically jumping over the table to stop him. “That would be way too obvious. How ‘bout you bring them here?”

  “Yes, yes. I bringing them here. I telling them, ‘Oh, Canadian lady likes you’,” he said just as he was about to take off.

  “No, no,” Bree said. “Don’t say that. Just see if you can convince them to come over here first.” The three of them made elaborate plans and had poor Jimmy rehearsing what he was supposed to say before sending him back to the lodge where they were staying.

  About an hour later, he came back and said, “Oh, big men not coming here. You go there, have some tea and I have good talking, then you play cards.”

  Rushing to prepare ourselves to leave, Bree inspected her retainer and said, “Oh boy, am I ever glad this dried in time!” She popped it back into her mouth to test it, then took it out to show us the dark gaping hole in her smile. “I’d hate to go over there like this.”

  It was a bit of a walk down a jagged, unmarked path to the next lodge. Feeling especially attractive after two minutes each in the shower, Bree and Steph were even more flirtatious than usual. Admittedly, I was a bit annoyed that they were both drooling over every semi-attractive guy we met, but I was pretty used to it by now. Wherever Bree went the locals fell for her. Men were always complimenting her, and marriage proposals trailed in her wake. But despite being separated by thousands of miles of ocean, all I could think of was Grady. We weren’t even technically dating, not yet at least, and I had already mentally dedicated myself to him.

  Here she was rushing over to meet a few cute New Zealand guys, and yet she’d confessed only hours earlier to Steph and me that she and Dendee had kissed. As I had not yet experienced my first kiss and wanted to save it for someone special, it was hard for me to relate to her spreading her saliva around the world. It disappointed me that my supposed role model was showing so little discretion in this department.

  I don’t even look at other guys, I thought as I watched her flirt with the three Kiwis. I mean, Bree’s supposed to be in love with Fern, but look at her. Why do I even bother with her? I wanted to believe in true love and commitment and faithfulness, but that hope dwindled as I saw the way Dad, and now Bree, treated relationships.

  I watched as the sun set beyond the gorgeous mountains from the big scenic window in the lounge. On a moonless night, when dusk hit there was no middle ground; it became instantly pitch black with no light pollution at all. Naturally, thinking about the unlit walk back to our lodge made me nervous, which is why I was so relieved when Dendee and Ammon walked through the door, having come to retrieve us. They’d somehow managed to navigate their way without a flashlight, but someone kindly lent us one for the return trip.

  The endless starlight became brighter and more incredible than I could even begin to describe accurately. Stars reached out to touch the deepest measure of my soul. Unlike the usual wash of whitish flow across the sky, tonight the richness of the Milky Way sparkled like a gazillion diamonds spread across an infinite stretch of exquisite black velvet.

  Slip, Slide, Scary Ride

  39

  A layer of fresh snow carpeted the earth and moist fog caused by the chill in the early morning air made for poor visibility. The landscape around us was becoming more and more barren. For a short time the dense pine greens turned into a blanket of oranges and reds. This autumn burst of colour soon faded and as we progressed higher the trees gradually shrank down to mere bushes and tufts of golden grass. Shrubs and alpine plants had finally vanished entirely, leaving nothing more than a pit of gravel and rock surrounded by snow-capped mountains. The scenery was looking very much like the Friendship Highway’s grey rock slate but its powerful beauty was still very much in evidence.

  Along with the growing sparsity of vegetation, the family oriented, happy villages we’d come to love were now few and far between. The two or three lodges in the few high “villages” were only inhabited during the trekking season, though they were still permanent fixtures, unlike the base camp itself. The Himalayan homes we’d seen up till now had been a mix of wood, white stucco, and stone, but the higher we climbed, the more the homes blended in with their natural surroundings. My personal favourites were the ones made entirely of stones and large boulders with wooden door frames and ruffled tin roofs. Only a spot of darkness amidst the stony backdrop distinguished the doorways.

  The hiking was extra strenuous, but for once I was ahead of Bree, who was staying behind to keep the somewhat disgruntled Stephanie company. We made our way down a barely discernible path, heading toward a bridge where we could cross over a river of freshly melted snow flowing down from the mountains. The fantastic suspension bridges we’d enjoyed had long since been replaced by simple wooden planks or large rock slabs placed over rushing rivers. Handrails and side netting had vanished entirely and on slippery or rainy days, the bridges would be impossible to traverse.

  The path we were following ended at the foot of a short rocky section that led down and then up again toward the crude bridge crossing. As I stepped down onto a massive, flat boulder that tilted toward a sheer drop into the rushing river, I lost my footing on the loose gravel. The grit made the rock slick, and I began sliding toward the raging water. It sloshed audibly over the rocks below and made little white rapids splash up from the narrow riverbed. It wasn’t the short fall that threatened to do me in, but the freezing river below. I’d have been thrown about in the tumultuous waters, numbed and unable to clamber back up the steep boulders to escape its icy grip. Even if I had manage
d to get back out, or if someone were able to to help, I’d have been hours away from a lodge or a fire where I could warm up. Hypothermia was a very real danger.

  Desperately looking to Ammon and Mom for help, I saw that they’d already crossed the bridge and were entirely unaware of my plight. Even if that hadn’t been the case, there was no way they could get to me in time. I began flapping my arms in a frantic attempt to keep my balance, knowing that if I picked up one foot, I would fall down and slide even faster toward the edge. Nearly paralyzed, with no options left and the river coming up fast, my mind froze. I was completely helpless and out of options.

  I heard Bree hollering, “I got you, I got you!” as she slammed into me from behind. Hooking the crooks of her elbows forcefully under my armpits, she tugged me backward with herculean strength until we both landed with a thunk on solid ground.

  “Holy crap, Bree,” Steph gasped as she ran over to us. “I’ve never seen anyone move that fast in my entire life. You were just flying!”

  “I know. I can’t believe I made it. I had to freakin’ leap up and over those rocks to get to her. I was, like, way back there when I started running!”

  I felt completely dazed as I finally started to breathe again. “I didn’t even know you guys were around the bend yet.”

  Steph was shaking her head in complete astonishment. “Whoa, that was so close.”

  “You saved my life.” Still sitting in my sister’s lap, I tapped her on the leg and, with more sincerity than I’d ever felt before, said, “Thanks.”

  I was particularly moved by the symphony of emotions created by the power of the courage, strength, and unity described in the songs from the movie soundtrack of The Lord of the Rings as we hiked; they offered meaning and importance to my own quest as the towering mountains sparkled in the pure light. Every day I climbed closer to the sun and, like Icarus, I became ever more mesmerized by it. We all knew there was a remarkable magnitude within our reach. A cold breeze against our skin contrasting with the warmth of the near-by sun made the blood course through our veins.