Because

by Jack A. Langedijk

  “Well, Philip that sounds great!”

  “Really? I hope so. She asked me how to do that. I didn’t know what to say to her, Mr. Sanchez.”

  “So what did you write then?”

  “Don’t know why I came up with it, but I told her try saying ‘hi’ to people that you normally never speak to. And then, Mr. Sanchez, unbelievably, the next day, the very next day...I was standing in front of my locker and then I get this little tap on my back—oh don’t worry, I didn’t push anyone. Do you know who it was? Megan Moregenstein and her friend Talia! I was shocked. Anyway, I turned around, I’m sure I wiped my hands on the back of my T-shirt twenty times, and I just stood there frozen like some kind of zombie, I’m sure. Then I thought...oh my God, she knows! She knows that PK Phoenix is me! And all I could think of was ‘How am I going to get away? Where can I run?’ But then she just smiled and said, ‘Hi, I’m Megan and this is my friend, Talia. I don’t think we have ever said hi to you and I’d like to change that. Okay?’”

  “That’s so wonderful Philip. It must have made a big purple mark on your graph!”

  “But I didn’t know if she was joking, Mr. Sanchez. I thought that maybe she knew everything and this was a joke. That she was just waiting for me to tell the truth.”

  “So did you?”

  “I was too scared to think. I just said, ‘Okay, hi.’ Then she handed me a little piece of paper with PK Phoenix’s Facebook address and told me, ‘If you ever need someone to talk to, try this guy.’ Then she walked away. But...Mr. Sanchez, then her friend Talia turns around and she walked directly back to me...and so now I’m thinking she knew it’s me...she knew...and she’s going start yelling in the hallway what a freak I am.”

  Philip then rose to his feet. “But I was wrong! That didn’t happen, Mr. Sanchez. It didn’t happen at all! No, she came close to me, real close. And then she put her hand on my arm.” He then lightly touched his arms to show Robert how she touched him.

  “Oh, and I didn’t pull away! And then she just asked me my name! And I told her, ‘Philip,’ and she just kept her hand on my arm the whole time, Mr. Sanchez, the whole time! Then she said, ‘Look, Philip, Megan almost died about a month ago and this guy, the one on that piece of paper she gave you, it’s true, he really did save her. I just wanted to make sure you knew, he’s one of the good guys...and he’s for real.’”

  Wow, I was absolutely blown away. I know that feeling of complete exhilaration. I know what it feels like to stand on the summit after a difficult climb. I thought I knew what that strong sense of accomplishment felt like, yet what I witnessed that day in that classroom was beyond anything I ever have experienced on any mountain. It had only been a couple of months ago when he asked me to help him change. And here I was, thinking I’m helping this boy, but it was unbelievable what this kid was doing on his own. Just look at what Philip had accomplished in those last two months! He saved the life of a girl who had already decided to kill herself; he created—completely on his own—a help line for others in need; he initiated a movement in his school, urging all students to acknowledge one another by just saying hi; and, during all that, he actually found a way to escape the prison of his own sorry perspective of how others viewed him.

  And now, only a short year later, he’s here on the highest mountain in the world, talking to thousands of kids online each day, asking everyone he meets the question, “Why do they climb?” But look at what this incredible boy had the courage to climb? And now he’s helping others scale down their mountains of misery...and climb to make a safer, happier school (world) to live in...

  Well, my love, my eyes feel so heavy...A hug, oh, feeling you tonight would be so glorious! Soon we will be together. Tomorrow is our last day here...Everyone’s all excited that we will be able to broadcast live—talk to almost six thousand kids back home—first we’ll do that little journey to the ice fields...

  And so I ask myself that question again: why is it that I climb these actual mountains when I’m able to witness the greatest change I have ever seen any human being go through—climbing MT KONG.

  I love you. Open arms coming soon...

  Robert

  32. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL

  Monique sat on the toilet, removed the paper mitten she had wiped her face with and stood up just enough to lift the lid and put the paper in the toilet. She opened her purse, pulled out her phone and pressed a number.

  In a complete daze, she listened to the ring and got a voicemail. She disconnected and tried another number. “Please pick up,” she whispered. Two rings and, “Hello, Leaside Art and Music Academy. Could you please hold?”

  Monique heard a couple of women enter the washroom. She didn’t want to be having this conversation in a washroom stall for others to hear, but after all the crying and vomiting, she had no idea what she looked like and didn’t want anyone to see her and ask her what was wrong. So she just stayed seated. After about thirty seconds, the voice on the phone came back.

  “Thanks for holding. May I help you?”

  Monique spoke in low voice. “Hi, this is Monique Sanchez. I’m wondering if my daughter, Jennifer Sanchez, is at work today. I really need to speak with her, please.”

  “Oh, you’re Jenny’s mom? Hi Mrs. Sanchez! Jenny has told me so much about you and her father. Oh, and how is Mr. Sanchez doing? Jenny told us all about­—”

  “He’s fine...fine. Sorry, but I really need to speak with Jenny. It’s kind of an emergency.” Monique was still half whispering so no one else could hear her in the washroom.

  “Are you okay, Mrs. Sanchez?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m in a meeting so I’m trying not to disturb anyone. So please, could you check to see about Jenny?”

  “Yes, I know. I have to do that all the time in this office.”

  “Please, could you check about Jenny?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry...Okay, hang on, Mrs. Sanchez, I’ll check.”

  “Oh wait, Mrs. Sanchez, I have a note right here. But it’s not from Jenny. It’s from Mr. Le. He said there was an emergency and both he and Jenny would not be in today and possibly tomorrow.”

  “Mr. Le was the one who called the school, not Jenny?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Sanchez.”

  “And who is this Mr. Le?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sanchez. Has Jenny not mentioned him at all?”

  “No, no, she hasn’t. Who is he and why is he calling for my daughter?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I should be saying this. But Jenny and Mr. Le are dating.”

  Jenny had yet to tell her mom about Kyle. Even though Monique had many questions about who this Mr. Le was, she didn’t have time to get into it, so she lied to the school’s secretary. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. When you said Mr. Le, I was thrown. Yes, I know they are dating...but please tell me, did he say what the emergency was?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t take the message. Kyle spoke to Ruth, she’s the morning secretary and she had to leave for a dentist appointment this morning. Oh, that woman and her teeth...Do you know it’s her third appointment this month? Oh, I’m sorry, you’re in a meeting; you don’t need me blabbering away. So, would you like me to have Ruth call you when she gets back this afternoon?”

  “Yes, please have her call this number. Thank you.”

  “Excuse me for asking, Mrs. Sanchez, but is everything okay?”

  Monique wanted to just tell her the truth. She wanted to scream it out to the world that “No, everything is not okay and I don’t know if it will ever be okay again. Jenny’s father and the only man I have ever loved is dying right in front of my eyes and I can’t do anything to save him!” But it seemed the truth was something not to be spoken out loud today.

  “I’m fine...fine...Please have Ruth call me when she gets in.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Sanchez. It was great speaking to you. Oh, and I have to tell you we all love Jenny here. She adds such a wonderful youthful energy around here...Really such a...what’s the wor
d for it? Um...oh, ‘life.’ Both her and Kyle. Yeah, such a new life to this school, which I don’t think we’ve had in years. And do you know what? She...oh, I’m sorry, you’re in a meeting. Anyway, great to speak with you and goodbye. Have a nice day! And don’t worry, as soon as Ruth walks through that door, I’ll ask her to call you. Okay, buh-bye.”

  “Bye,” Monique said, but she wasn’t sure the woman even heard it as she had dropped the phone on her lap as she spoke. She then listened for sounds of movement. Nothing stirred. It seemed the women had exited and so Monique wandered out to take a look at herself in the mirror.

  Her face looked puffy, coloured with blotchy spots of red. The little makeup she wore had all been rubbed off by the paper mitten. She turned on the tap and held her hand under the water. She leaned down, cupped the water and then wet her face. Mindlessly, she brought her hand to her face and touched her lips. She looked at herself in the mirror. Raised her hand and slowly traced her lips with her wet fingers. As she exhaled, out came a long agonizing sigh. She closed her eyes.

  Unexpectedly, it struck her. She couldn’t remember the last time her lips had been touched—touched with any gentleness, touched with any thoughts of love.

  Was it just six months ago? It seemed like another lifetime when she had received that call. A nervous man’s voice telling her about an avalanche...Robert was buried in a crevasse in the ice fields of Everest. There was no chance of survival. He was dead! After crying nonstop for hours upon hours, she had then gathered water onto her face, just like now, looked in the mirror and touched her face. And the same agonizing thought held her captive—the man she loved would never touch her lips again.

  Back then, looking in the mirror, she imagined her hand was Robert’s hand saying his goodbye as he always did—so slow, so gentle—a caress only her face knew. Love felt so deep and, oh, the way he smiled at her, eyes making her feel more alive, more there. It always felt like one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments. His warm hand, tracing his finger across her lips and always, always saying to her, “Home...These lips will forever be my reason to come home.”

  But at that time, she had just heard he was dead under a mountain of snow. She knew Robert was not coming home. She tried everything to hide from the haunting visions she had of his body, tangled and entombed under a huge avalanche of ice and snow. Was he curled up or did he die trying to claw his way out? The images were too torturous to go on imagining. She begged the nervous voice on the phone to do everything they could to find his body. But they told her that the possibility of recovering Robert’s body was very remote because of the dangerous location he was buried in. And although Monique was not a religious woman, she prayed that night in front of her bathroom mirror. She prayed out loud to whatever god would listen. Please let them find Robert, find my husband’s body. Just please bring him home—to see, to know, to bury...

  And some gods must have heard, for the moment she asked, her bathroom prayer was interrupted.

  “Monique, Monique!” The voice on the phone was out of breath.

  “Monique, it’s Robert, Robert...They found him!”

  Despite living in this dark, desperate sorrow, both she and Jenny had already taken actions to deal with Robert’s death. When the news first arrived, they immediately booked flights to Kathmandu, clinging to the hope Robert’s body would be recovered and they could bring her husband and the father of her only daughter back home.

  So when she heard, “They found him,” Monique said, “Thank God! Oh, thank you, whatever God heard me! Thank you! Thank you! Listen, we are taking the first plane to Kathmandu to bring him home.”

  “Oh, that’s so great, Monique. I can’t tell you what it’s like. It’s like a freakin’ miracle! A freaking fantastic, incredible miracle! I have to tell you, I never thought it was possible to find him under all that ice and snow.”

  “What shape is his body in? I mean did it look like he suffered a lot?”

  “Well, prepare yourself and your daughter, Monique, ‘cause when you see him...Well, his legs are pretty banged up.”

  “But do you know if he suffered or was it quick?”

  “Oh, it was quick all right, Monique. That ice and snow can hit you in seconds. He probably didn’t even have time to react. And I’m not going to lie to you, his legs don’t look good. Look, it’ll be about ten minutes and you can talk to him yourself.”

  “What! Are you crazy?” Monique pulled the phone away from her face with disgust. What kind of sick idea this was—having me talk on the phone to my dead husband’s body?

  “Monique, I’m sorry I didn’t hear what you said. Whoa, wait a second...”

  Then she heard the voice shouting out some commands. “Over here, I have his wife on the phone...Just lift him...Hook it up to your walkie...Monique? Monique? You still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Okay, hang on a minute. They are hooking up the phone to a walkie.”

  “Jenny,” Monique called out. “Jenny, come here quick...”

  Jenny slowly entered the room. She moved as if her being was void of any life. She sat on the edge of her parents’ bed, her heavy head hanging as if it might fall off. Monique sat beside her daughter and whispered, “Jen, I’m talking with base camp. They found Daddy’s body.”

  “Oh, Daddy.” Jenny said in the tiniest voice and then started to cry. She fell on the bed and started to wail. Monique lay back beside her daughter and pulled her close.

  “I know, baby...I know...” She couldn’t hold back her tears either. “But now we can at least bring Daddy home.”

  “Monique?” the voice called out on the phone. “Monique...You still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here...so is my daughter.”

  “It’s a miracle that’s for sure...A goddamn miracle!” The voice on the phone continued. “All right, you guys ready? Okay, we got the walkie hooked up. Monique? Monique, you can speak now.”

  Jenny stopped crying. Her wet face looked at her mother wondering what was happening and wondering what the man on the phone was talking about. Monique gently put her hand on the receiver and caressed it. “Jen, Jen, listen...They are putting a phone on your father’s body so we can talk to him.”

  “Mom, what?”

  Monique then delicately put the phone on the bed between the two of them. They looked at each other, silently crying. Then they looked at the phone as if they were looking at Robert’s body in a casket. Jenny reached out to touch the phone, but couldn’t stand the pain, so she buried her head into the bed as deep as she could get it. Her mother put her head on her daughter’s and just stared at the phone on the bed.

  Then a faint sound came from the phone. “Monique...Baby...You there? Little Rock? Girls...are you there?”

  Jenny’s body jerked and she turned to face her mother. It was like the voice came from inside her head, as if in a dream. Jenny even smiled to Monique, wishing her mother could hear her father’s voice. So Jenny reached out her hand to touch the phone again. But this time the voice was louder and obviously not in Jenny’s mind.

  “Monique?”

  Then Monique turned her head to the phone as she could now hear what was, unmistakably, Robert’s voice.

  “I thought you guys said this was hooked up to my family?” Robert’s voice shouted out.

  Then the other voice came back on the phone, speaking to Monique.

  “Monique, are you still there? Monique?”

  She picked up the phone. “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Well, Robert’s trying to talk to you...Hang on, let me try the connection again.”

  “Wait,” Monique almost screamed, as if she had been caught in one of those video comedy pranks. “Wait, the body you found was a...alive? Are you telling me he’s alive?”

  “Monique, what did you think the miracle was?”

  “Oh, God!” Monique loudly wept with complete abandon. “Yes...yes...Please, please let us talk to him. Oh, let us talk to him!”

  And then came the
moment few get to experience in a lifetime: Monique and Jenny got to speak to someone who had risen from the dead.

  Jenny leaped, bouncing on the bed, shrieking in a voice that went from crying to laughing, laughing to screaming, and screaming to crying. Finally, saying, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...” She didn’t know what else to say. Monique pulled her daughter as close to her as it was humanly possible. She had to put her hand over her daughter’s mouth. “Shhh...”

  Both of them sat there staring at the phone in Monique’s other hand. They listened to crackling. Tears, joyous tears, washed away the dark grief that had surrounded them for the last twenty-four hours. First there were more crackling sounds. Then they froze and in total unison, they inhaled, devouring all the air in the room. And then, they held their breaths—creating a perfect silence that only his voice could break.

  “Baby...Little Rock...I can’t believe I’m talking to you.” Roberto Sanchez spoke. His story had not ended.

  And yet, a mere six months later, Robert had completely stopped talking to his wife and daughter. But he was alive! So how did it happen? He was alive! So how did they become this story? One that was only filled with questioning silence, a guessing game of who felt what and why? He was alive, but no one dared to question what was happening for fear of what the answer might bring.

  So now, today, as Monique traced her lips in the mirror, she tried to remember how the joy of that moment felt. That moment when she had found out he was alive, a joy that was still so indefinable. How could that joy have turned into this?