by Karen Rispin
"Stupid," I muttered between gasps for breath, "stupid, stupid, you don't run at fourteen thousand feet." I wasn't going in until I could look normal.
Gradually my head stopped spinning. Suddenly the door opened, pulling away from my head. I lost my balance and staggered forward, running straight into Lisa.
"Sorry," I blurted, trying to catch my balance.
"You OK?" she asked.
"I'm fine!" I said it so loud that everybody turned to look at me. My head was still thumping so hard it made me want to shut my eyes. I sat down on the shelf and started stuffing my sleeping bag. After a few seconds, people looked away. I leaned my head on the top of my pack, hoping no one would notice I wasn't doing anything. After a bit, my head quit hurting so much.
"Is Uncle Joey OK?" Sandy asked, walking in the door.
"Why?" asked Uncle Paul, who was stuffing his sleeping bag into his pack.
"Well, he was ahead of me coming back. All of a sudden he just sat down on a rock and put his head in his hands. He didn't answer when I asked if he was OK either."
Uncle Paul just grunted and stuck his jacket on.
"Well?" Sandy demanded, but Uncle Paul had left.
"Traci! Traci!" Sandy said, shaking her friend's sleeping bag. "Get up! It's time to climb."
Just then Mom came in, letting a burst of cold air into the stuffy, crowded, messy little room. If she saw how I felt, she'd keep me back for sure.
| Go to Table of Contents |
Chapter Eight
"Anika, since you're dressed, could you go get some water for breakfast?" Mom asked. "Take the big pot Joey knocked over."
The cold air made me realize I'd forgotten my jacket again, but I wasn't going back now. The sky was pale gray in the east now. I took a deep breath of cold air, and my head felt better. I looked up at the peaks again, then stopped and faced them. The verse echoed in my head, "The Father in his great glory."
"I ask the Father in his great glory to give me strength," I whispered, and shivered. "Please help me to make it," I prayed. "Help me not to get dizzy again."
I didn't mention the whole thing about Mom and Rick. It seemed like a worse mountain than the real one, and I didn't even want to think about it. A violent shiver reminded me that I'd better get the water and get back inside. Somebody passed me a little ways over. It looked like that Rick guy again. I kept my eyes down and veered out of his way.
The water was biting cold on my hands where I splashed myself filling the pot.
After breakfast I pulled my Bible out. I wanted to read the part again about how God would give me strength.
The funny thing was, when I read that part, it seemed like the whole thing was about love instead of strength. Verse 17 said, "I pray that your life will be strong in love and be built on love."
Does that mean I have to make things OK with Mom? How can I, if—I swallowed. Maybe nothing was really wrong anyway. Nobody had actually said that Rick was Mom's kid. Maybe it was all my imagination. I shivered and looked down at the next part to get away from what I was thinking.
It said, "I pray that you and all God's holy people will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ's love. I pray that you can understand how wide and how long and how high and how deep that love is."
"Come on, Anika, let's move it!" Uncle Paul called, coming out of the hut.
We locked our stuff in the hut and didn't carry anything but water. Mom walked with Sandy and Traci, so I stayed in front with Uncle Paul. I didn't want to face her. The sun wasn't up properly. The light was a clear pale gray, but there was a gold in the east. We walked up the valley, then the path turned and zigzagged up the scree.
Scree is sharp little rocks. It's all the bits that have broken off the higher peaks, like a giant gravel heap dumped down the side of the mountain. Soon I was stopping after every four steps to catch my breath. The icy rocks crunched under my boots.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, pause and pant four times, then crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.
My head was hurting again. I wasn't first in line anymore. Both Lisa and Sandy were ahead of me now. My hands, face, and feet hurt from the cold.
There was a shuffle, a clatter of gravel, then a tremendous sound almost like a roar. "OUAGGH!"
I spun around. Uncle Joey was off the path throwing up.
"Gross!" I heard Sandy say. Uncle Joey barfed again, and Sandy said, "Lisa, your dad must be the world's loudest puker."
Lisa didn't answer. Uncle Joey finished and walked up the path toward us. He flapped his hands, motioning for us to keep walking. Lisa went back and walked with him.
A little later he threw up again. We kept going. I bunched my cold hands into a fist in the middle of my mittens. That was a bit better, but they still hurt. I wondered if when your hands hurt from cold it meant you were getting frostbite. Mostly I didn't think anything at all.
A little later Mom's voice stopped us. "Paul, your daughter wants you."
I took a quick look back and then flopped down flat to rest. We were going to be here for long enough to rest anyway. I'd seen Traci sitting on the ground, huddled in a lump, crying. Uncle Paul's boots crunched back past me.
I could hear Uncle Paul's soft, low voice, then Traci's voice rose in a high wail: "I want to go home! I feel sick, and my feet are cold. They hurt!" She started howling like a baby.
"Someone will have to go back with her," Mom said.
There was a long pause. I thought Uncle Joey would go back because he was sick. He didn't say anything. Finally Uncle Paul said, "Would you be confident of the path if I went back?"
There was another pause. After a bit, Mom said, "I'll take her back."
I sat up. That wasn't fair! Without thinking, I was totally on Mom's side. She wasn't sick like Uncle Joey, and Traci wasn't even her kid. Mom wanted to climb so much. Then I remembered about Rick, and she seemed like a stranger. I turned my head away.
Sandy went back with Mom and Traci. She said she felt sick too, but I think she just didn't want to keep going without her friend and Mom.
Lisa, Uncle Paul, Uncle Joey, and I kept walking. Sunlight was on the peaks now, and it washed down towards us like a slow, gold ocean. My head hurt. My lungs hurt. I wanted to stop walking and lie there. Instead we kept on making slow steps up the scree. Every tiny detail seemed bigger than life, like a close-up in a movie.
I saw why the gravel made such loud crunching noises. A lot of the little pieces of stone were up on tiny ice towers. Each step smashed the tiny towers. Before long, sunlight washed over us.
"OK, rest time," Uncle Paul finally said.
I flopped flat onto my back and lay there with my eyes shut against the sun. My chest heaved. After a bit, my breathing slowed down. I could hear Uncle Joey breathing hard, rattling, gasping breaths. I didn't move or open my eyes. It felt so good to hold still. After a bit I noticed soft, musical tinkling noises all around us.
Something made a noise like a tiny chime right by my ear. I turned my head sideways and squinted against the light. There was nothing but gravel and ice glinting in the sun.
Ching! This time I saw it. One of the tiny ice pedestals had broken and fallen down, making a noise like a tiny bell. I sat up. All around us, the sun was warming the scree, playing a soft, bright tune on the breaking ice pedestals.
"Listen," I blurted. "The sun and the mountain are singing together!"
Uncle Paul gave me a funny look.
"They are!" I insisted.
Uncle Joey grumbled and sat up, "Whether they are or not, they'll just have to do it without me. I have to quit. I thought maybe I'd feel better after a bit, but it just keeps getting worse. I should have gone back with the kids. Hazel could be here but for my stupid pride."
My mouth dropped open.
"Anybody coming with me?" he asked.
There was a long silence. Finally Uncle Joey heaved himself to his feet, said, "See you down there," and started down.
He'd gone about ten steps when Lisa su
ddenly said, "Wait! Wait, Dad, I'll come with you," and took off after him. He stopped and reached out his hand. She took it and they started down together.
I watched them for a minute. Things were looking good between Lisa and her dad, anyway, but how about me? I looked anxiously at Uncle Paul. He raised one bushy red eyebrow then looked up the mountain, silently asking me a question.
"Can we?" I blurted. "Can we keep on?"
"I don't know if we can," he said, grinning, "but we may try. You ready to go on?"
I nodded and stood up. When I looked up the long, sun-swept slope of scree my heart sank. It was too high, too far. I swallowed and reminded myself, The Father in his great glory will give me strength.
We didn't talk. There was no breath left for talk. My stomach felt like lead. Once it got so bad I thought I was going to throw up. I sat down and held my head in my hands. After a second I felt better. When I looked up, Uncle Paul was waiting for me.
I swallowed hard and whispered between breaths, "If I make it, it's all you, God."
I stood up and we kept on, taking steps and resting, taking steps and resting. When we rested I could see far, far down. The tents and cabins in the camp where we slept in Teleki Valley looked smaller than pieces of rice. Mostly we couldn't see the peaks, only the next ridge above us.
This time the thing that kept going through my head in time to my breathing was strong… in… love… strong… in… love. I didn't think about what it meant.
After a long time the scree leveled out. We were walking through round, black boulders. I wasn't watching where we were going, only looking at the back of Uncle Paul's pack. Suddenly he went through a door.
I stopped and stood swaying, thinking, A door? Here?
It was a little wooden cabin. Inside I flopped onto the floor, too tired to ask what a cabin was doing here. After a bit I heard Uncle Paul chuckle, and I sat up.
He was looking at a big leather book.
"What is it?" I asked. "What is this place?"
He grinned at me through his beard. "It's top hut. Where the real climbers stay before they tackle Nelion or Mbatian. This is a visitors book. You can sign it. Some of the entries are great. Look at this one from Australia."
I got up, caught my balance, and went over. But when I looked at it, I froze. It wasn't what the guys from Australia wrote, it was the last thing written that got me.
It said, "Rick, climbing this mother of a mountain looking for my mother." My mouth got dry, and I stood still, staring into space. That guy was Rick. And he'd said, "looking for my mother." I felt sick.
"Here, sign it, you've earned it," Uncle Paul said, holding out a pen.
I jumped and shook my head and stumbled out the door. After a minute Uncle Paul came out and we started off. He never asked why I'd run out of the cabin. For once I was glad he wasn't a talker.
It wasn't so steep now. We were very high up. That high place didn't seem like part of planet Earth. Once someone told me that on the Himalayas you can see stars in the daytime because you're so far up through the earth's atmosphere. I didn't see any stars, but the sky was darker blue than it should have been. There was only ice, barren black rock, and empty space.
Then we came into the snow. At first it was just patches in the shadows of the rocks. Then it was a thin layer. For a while each step Uncle Paul took left a perfect mold of the bottom of his boot.
"This is going to be tough," Uncle Paul said as we stopped to rest. He was panting hard, and there were icicles on his beard.
How can it get worse? I wondered, frantically gasping for breath. After a bit, Uncle Paul said, "Ready to go?"
I jerked my head yes and got up.
The next part was like a bad dream. Endless stumbling after Uncle Paul's boots… the snow getting deeper… getting harder and harder to walk… no thinking, no looking around, nothing except keeping going. Time stopped. The sun went away. I'd been climbing, stumbling, struggling in snow behind Uncle Paul's boots forever. Torn bits of mist blew by.
"Almost there," Uncle Paul panted. "Anika, look up."
I squinted and looked, swaying on my feet. The slope swelled steeply upward, then black rocks poked through. There was nothing above the rocks but mist. The top of Lenana!
I stood, taking huge gasps for air. That last steep snow slope seemed impossible.
"Please, God. Please, God," I wheezed as I breathed in and out. Each time Uncle Paul stopped I was a little farther behind. I wanted to quit. Just to say, "I can't—I'm stopping," and rest.
I fell flat on my face and lay there. Cold snow bit my cheeks. Warm tears trickled through the cold. How can I get this far and not make it?!
I could hear boots crunching toward me through the snow. I figured it was Uncle Paul and turned my head away. I didn't want him to know I was crying. The boots stopped beside me.
"Hey kid, you OK?"
I gasped and spun around, stumbling to my feet. It was that Rick guy! He was looking straight at me. I ducked my head and wiped at my runny nose.
"Hey, it's not that bad," he said. He waved his arms with a huge grin on his face. "I beat this mountain."
He shook his fist and threw his head back, and yelled, "I beat you! Do you hear me?" His voice echoed triumphantly off the far peaks. Suddenly he quit and looked back at me. "I'm ready for anything now. Where's your mom?"
After the yelling I wasn't ready for that. Without thinking, I blurted, "She went back with Sandy."
"To the Teleki Valley camp?" he asked, but I just glared at him. How could I have told him, I wondered. He has nothing to do with us!
He grinned and thumped me on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll make it, Sis. I did."
He spun away from me and started down. I staggered from the thump and yelled after him, "No! It's not true!"
He stopped and looked up, grinning. "OK, so you won't make it," and strode off through the snow.
"That's not what I meant," I muttered furiously. I'd show him! "I… will… I… will… show… him!" I muttered between breaths, stomping determinedly through the snow up the last slope.
"Who?" asked a voice right beside me. I jumped. I'd almost run into Uncle Paul.
"Nobody!" I answered, ducking away from him.
"Like the nobody you were just talking to?" he asked between panting breaths.
I didn't answer. Two could play at being quiet. Besides, I didn't have enough breath for talking. I needed it all for climbing. I stomped past Uncle Paul.
"Sure put a fire under you," Uncle Paul said, chuckling, as he caught up. "I thought you were going to quit for a minute back there."
"I… have… to… make… it," I gasped between breaths with my teeth clenched.
"Good," he said, behind me.
It was quiet except for our rasping breath and the noise of our boots in the snow. A few feet later I wasn't sure I could keep going. It was too hard.
"I… have… to," I gasped in a whisper in time to my steps. My throat hurt from breathing so hard.
"Rest!" Uncle Paul said, putting his hand on my shoulder. I collapsed into the snow and gasped for breath.
It's no use, I thought.
Uncle Paul got to his feet. "Let's move," he said.
I didn't budge. It was too hard. My gasping breaths were almost sobs. It just wasn't fair—the mountain, this Rick person. Nothing was fair.
Uncle Paul stood looking down at me. Then he said something that really shocked me.
"I guess he was right. He said you're a quitter."
"He didn't say that!" I half yelled. "And I am not!"
"So show me," Uncle Paul said in a way that sounded like he was making fun of me.
I glared at him and dragged myself to my feet. The snow was a monster holding my feet down. I fought that beautiful white monster, grimly putting one foot in front of the other. My lungs hurt. The monster got stronger and stronger. I stumbled and fell on my face.
"Anika! Anika!" Uncle Paul said between harsh breaths. I ignored him. A big hand shook my
shoulder. "Anika, look up!"
I dragged myself into a sitting position and looked. We were only about ten yards from the top! This time I didn't even bother to get up. I crawled that last ten yards.
Uncle Paul reached out a hand to me for the last bit, but I ignored it. I clambered up the black boulder on the top and flopped onto my back. The only thing above me was sky. I'd made it! Happiness flooded me, right from my toes to my ears. I lay there gasping for breath and grinning.
| Go to Table of Contents |
Chapter Nine
So what if the sky I was looking at was gray. So what about anything! I'd made it. Flat on my back, I stretched my arms out and laughed.
Uncle Paul chuckled and said, "God sent that character along at the right time."
I twisted to look at Uncle Paul. How could he know anything about Rick? Uncle Paul was grinning through a screen of icicles hanging off his mustache. I sighed with relief. He didn't really know, or he wouldn't be grinning like that.
"You were just about finished," Uncle Paul said. "I don't know what that kid said, but it got you moving again."
"Oh." I felt like someone had dumped my thoughts upside down. This whole thing with Rick wasn't just a trick God played to get me up the mountain, was it? Suddenly I knew a trick that Uncle Paul had played, though.
"You called me a quitter to make me keep going!" I blurted.
He chuckled again and said, "I never called you a quitter."
I frowned, trying to remember. Looking at things the other way around made me dizzy. Could things I hated really be on my side, helping me? Finally I said, "God sure answers prayers funny ways."
Uncle Paul laughed right out loud, then said, "Don't you think we ought to thank him?"
I nodded doubtfully, then grinned. Uncle Paul was right. God had helped me get up the mountain. All the ways he'd done it suddenly clicked into place. Letting me get a jacket, helping me find the path when I'd gotten lost. He'd used other people, like Lisa getting me a chance to come, Mom finding all the stuff, Uncle Paul keeping going with me and making me keep going, and even me being mad about Rick. Suddenly bowing my head and praying quietly wasn't enough.
