Kiss the Sky

by MK Schiller

  “My mother fell down a steep flight of stairs when I was ten years old. I watched her tumble and fall and hit her head against a marble floor. She landed at my feet. I don’t remember much. I thought I screamed, but they told me I didn’t. I guess I was silent the whole time. Almost paralyzed. I didn’t speak for weeks. For whatever reason, the yellow tent flying across the sky reminded me of that moment. She wore a yellow sari, you see.” She choked out a sound between a laugh and cry.

  His expression, compassionate and sincere, made her feel better about sharing the story. A story she never told.

  “I’m so sorry, Farah. I can’t imagine what it was like witnessing such a horrible accident, especially so young.”

  She bit back the emotion before it tore away at her. She needed every shred of composure. “I suppose I lost it for a moment, but you did more than shelter me from that wind—you pulled me out of that place. Thank you.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “It was very much something.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. She wished he wasn’t wearing gloves and she wasn’t in a huge coat with three layers underneath, including a special material to keep her body insulated. A rather stupid wish considering she would freeze to death.

  “What about the fig tree?” he asked.

  She blinked her eyes. Oh God, had she talked about the fig tree?

  “When I first got you into the tent, you were screaming about it. You don’t remember slapping me, do you? Telling me to leave you alone?”

  She shook her head, embarrassed by how she’d acted. “I’m sorry if I did that. I didn’t mean to.”

  “You didn’t know it was me. It’s okay,” he said. “We don’t have to go there. But if you need a little light, you just let me know.”

  “Why did you call me Dimples?” She knew it was a weak attempt to change the subject. Thankfully, he went with it.

  He titled his head as if he was confused by her question. As if she wouldn’t remember him calling her by that name. Then again, she had no recollection of hitting him.

  “In the tent, you called me Dimples. I remember some of it.”

  “When you smile, you have these two predominate dimples. I’ve been calling you that in my head. I guess it just came out that night.”

  She tried to tame her smile, but she might as well have been wrestling a seal in an oil bath. Amazing, she could smile at all considering she’d been near tears a moment earlier.

  He grinned back at her, cocky and self-assured. “And there they are.” He took off his gloves. His thumbs grazed over her cheeks. Her breath hitched. She struggled between leaning in and falling back.

  As if he sensed the danger of the touch, he dropped his hands. “We should catch up with the others.”

  “Right.”

  They began to work their way toward the group. The snow was getting deeper. In the next few days, they would need to start using their ski poles for leverage.

  “You don’t believe in oxygen either.” The way he asked made it clear it was an observation, not a question. With the rest of the group starting to use oxygen regularly, Tristan and she were the only two who refused.

  “I’ve always felt that if I can’t climb with the body I was given, then I’m not meant to be this high. But I have nothing against someone else’s choice, unless it causes a danger to the group, or if they choose to leave behind their empty canisters and pollute my mountain.” She’d already had a stern talk with Edelweiss on that point. “Anyway, it’s a promise I made to myself. It’s the reason I know this will be my last time on K2. This body is capable of some amazing things, but I know its limitations.”

  “I feel the same.” He adjusted his goggles. “My clients use it on Everest. In fact, we provide it to them, with close monitoring of course. I never wanted to depend on it though. Just curious, do you think someone is hitting the O a little too hard?”

  She didn’t need to ask him for clarification. Clearly, he referred to Edelweiss, who ran through his oxygen canisters as if they grew out of the ground.

  “I noticed. I don’t think he should go much farther. He’ll be a liability.” She didn’t trust Edelweiss to secure screws into the ice or attach fixed ropes.

  Farah tuned in the direction of the other climbers. Something was happening ahead. They were all standing around Edelweiss, who flapped his arms wildly. “What do you suppose is happening up there?”

  “Think he found his gramps,” Tristan said.

  She focused the lens of the camera to the scene. Edelweiss was more animated than she’d seen him during the whole trip. He pointed to an area, waving his arms up and down as if he was calling out directions. Ahmed and Malcolm were collecting rocks and clearing a path in the snow. Edelweiss carefully moved a body. Tristan was right. She zoomed in as Edelweiss took the pack off the man.

  “We should catch up,” Tristan said.

  They both picked up speed. They were at the shoulder, the last expanse before the climb turned vertical. For once, he did sound short of breath. By the time they caught up, Malcolm and Ahmed had gathered a layer of ice and rock in a cairn.

  “There you two are. Can you help?” Edelweiss asked.

  Tristan helped the other men with the preparations. She had seen dead bodies on K2 before, but she had never gotten used to the sight. Nothing decomposed quickly at these temperatures. Dead bodies resembled unfinished wax figures, the frames intact, but part of their features missing. Farah took in the partial skeleton with the snow shoes at his feet. Little spikes poking out of the shoes acted as crampons. His ankle twisted away from the rest of his body. Her gut rumbled. She looked away before she lost the contents of her lunch. But not before she caught a glimpse of the small insignia on a patch of fabric on the dead man’s arm. A red angled cross with intersecting arms, the symbol of hate and tragedy. Nothing good could come of this.

  She hugged herself, a mixture of anger and disappointment and betrayal hitting her at once. This was not right. “What was in there?” Farah asked, pointing to the battered leather pack Edelweiss clutched.

  Edelweiss tightened his hold. “Supplies.”

  She took out her camera to snap a picture.

  Edelweiss moved in front of her. “No pictures. Have some respect for the dead.”

  Have some respect for the living, she thought. She stumbled back. “I was going to take a picture of his supplies, not the body.”

  Tristan stood next to her. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine.”

  Tristan scanned the body. His eyes widened. The shock turned to disbelief before it transformed to rage. Farah understood it. She felt it herself.

  “Edelweiss, I can’t help you bury this man.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “You should know why. You should have told us. We deserved to know.”

  Edelweiss waved his hand. “The dead are the dead. They deserve respect.”

  “Not all dead,” Tristan said. He grabbed his own pack and moved forward. Farah went with him.

  Edelweiss turned to Ahmed. “Before you raise an objection, I suggest you remember the premium I’m paying.” He smiled widely, his black and gray beard making him appear almost menacing. “Koh-i-Noor,” he said.

  Chapter 15

  Ahmed was supposed to set up the next camp, but he’d sprained his foot during the hike and needed a rest day. Bjorn and Edelweiss suffered from attitude sickness so they stayed back too. The others thought it best to wait a few more days. Wanting to stay on schedule, Tristan said he’d forge ahead to the next camp. She volunteered to go with him. She wanted to prove her usefulness to the group and to herself, but the need to be with him was so strong she questioned the logic of her decisions.

  Climbing K2 involved setting up camps along the route. The team would head to one camp and get used to the climate. They would hike for a day and hea
d down to a previous camp. They did this several times until they acclimatized and could stay at the higher camp.

  They left behind whatever supplies they could once they left each camp, trying to get lighter each time. The camps would be used on the way down too. Each day, they hiked for long hours, taking in the most beautiful views. They checked and rechecked the food stocks every day. It would be easy to misjudge and run out of food. Everyone ate enough to be productive, but they all lost weight.

  Tristan had been unusually quiet since they discovered the body. He barely made conversation. There was a current of unease and distrust that strained the whole group. Their decisions took longer. They disagreed on the paths they needed to take, the division of duties, and even the way they rationed their food. The only one who seemed in better spirits was Edelweiss, who had slowed down on his supplemental oxygen and was acting more like a leader than a follower these days. It wasn’t unheard of for climbers to suddenly find their stride, once acclimation took hold, but the quick shift seemed strange. The whole group dynamic had changed. Finding the body had been a bad omen in Farah’s mind. It all felt wrong. Farah wondered if they had angered the Goddess of the Mountain by uncovering buried secrets and disrupting bones that were laid to rest decades ago.

  She worried for Tristan most of all. He’d lost his playfulness along the way. His spirit was that of a true explorer, but the man who read a children’s adventure book for inspiration was dormant now. She wanted nothing more than to flip a switch for him and bring light into his world too. She recognized this personal time with him was a gift of sorts. They were in the most remote place in the world, yet this was one of the first times they were alone.

  The weather was becoming frigid as they reached higher elevations. The awesome expanse around them made for some beautiful photographs. Today, she woke to find Tristan gathering garbage from the treks that had passed this way before them. Without a word, she started picking up the rubbish too. The previous group had littered the landscape. The mountains had survived a million years, but now they had a serious predator—humans.

  The two of them soon had a pile of paper, clothes, and used oxygen canisters. Farah sighed in defeat. It would take a hundred years for the clothes and paper to degrade at this altitude, but the canisters were even worse. The canisters would never decompose and remain for an eternity.

  “There’s so much,” she said, shaking her head.

  “We can bring this down to a lower elevation, maybe?” Tristan said. “Possibly, Ahmed has porter contacts he can hire to clear the site if we can’t carry it all back.”

  “I believe he does. That’s a good idea. I can carry a few more kilos back. I can’t believe people left all this behind.”

  “I wish I could say the same, but nothing surprises me anymore.” He went into the tent to retrieve the butane stove. “How about a fire, milady?”

  “That would be nice.”

  He frowned as she added a few more items to the growing pile.

  He lit the fire a distance away from their growing heap. “I always inventory all our supplies on treks. I like to confirm that everything we brought up with us has come down. We weigh everyone’s pack before and after. All of my clients pay a non-refundable fee if they leave garbage behind. It covers the costs to hire Sherpas to bring it all back down. Luckily, I’ve never had to keep anyone’s deposit. Guess whoever was in charge of this expedition didn’t feel the same.”

  “That’s a brilliant solution.”

  He shrugged off her compliment. “It worked well.”

  She laid out a sleeping mat. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, warming herself by the fire. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?” He sat beside her.

  “I misjudged you and your company.” She pointed to large pile of refuse. “Obviously, you’re not like others.”

  “I don’t blame you for being pissed. This is ridiculous.”

  They were silent for a while. She leaned her head against his shoulder. Everything inside her told her not to do it, but it was so comfortable there. He put his arm around her. She stiffened from his touch, but he pulled her closer. His hair had grown and his beard was full. If he had a kilt and sword, she was sure he could slay a dragon.

  She stood before they stepped over any boundaries. She walked over to the northeast edge of the mountain. He followed her.

  He broke the silence. “So who would have guessed Edelweiss’s gramps was a Nazi? Did you know?”

  Irritation flickered through her. “Of course not. If I had, I would not have agreed to go looking for the man.”

  “I’m sorry. I have a lot of angry feelings toward the whole thing. This feels so wrong.”

  “To me too. I feel stupid. I should have figured it out.”

  “How?”

  “I could have put the pieces together, especially with my background. I’ve researched the history of all the mountains in Karakorum, especially K2. When I think about it, it’s probably the reason why that trek was covered up and not in the official records. I read somewhere that Hitler wanted to prove Germany’s superior athletic ability across every sport, especially mountain climbing. After all, planting a Nazi flag on top of a mountain is the ultimate sign of an alpha race. Alpinist clubs were the first to ban Jews. I know the SS sponsored many summits in the Alps. I just didn’t know they did it here too.”

  “That’s true. Never thought I’d come face to face with evil like that. Not up here.”

  “I hope we can just move on and put it behind us now.”

  “Me too,” Tristan said.

  “I’m happy I’m here with you, Tristan.”

  He didn’t respond, not verbally anyway. He embraced her instead. She would not move away this time. Her body longed for his touch.

  She turned her head toward the sky and then shrieked. “Don’t move.”

  “What?” he asked, searching around, no doubt looking for an avalanche or falling serac.

  She pointed. “There. Do you see it? I never thought I’d see one in my whole life. It’s a Specter of Brocken. Do you know how rare that is?”

  They both stared in awe. A Specter of Brocken was like a rainbow to the millionth power. It was an extremely rare phenomenon where the play of light magnified a climber’s body, casting it into a cloud surrounded by brilliant colors. She thought it was similar to looking at her own shadow, except the shadow was illuminated in the sky. Mountaineers could climb all their lives and never witness the event. This was even stranger because it wasn’t just one of their images being cast, but both of their silhouettes were inside the cloud looming high above them and frozen in the sky. She felt blessed.

  “This is some real Harry Potter shit, Nawaz.”

  She laughed. “We should be still. It might dissipate if we move.”

  “You sure you don’t want to try for a picture? It’s gotta be worth a great deal to capture a Specter of Brocken on film.”

  “No. I just want to enjoy this moment with you.” The day and this image was something she refused to share with anyone.

  He held her close. Neither of them moved, afraid to disturb the image. “We look like giants,” he whispered.

  “I think it’s more ethereal. Like we’re spirits,” she said.

  “That last bar of the rainbow, it’s the same shade as your eyes.”

  She stiffened, realizing just how close they were. Her heart raced. She felt his muscled body pressing against her. The image dissolved into the skyline. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

  “Tristan, we shouldn’t.”

  He frowned. “You don’t feel this?”

  She moved away from him. “It’s not that. This isn’t the right time.”

  “It seems like there will never be a right time for us.”

  As happy as seeing the image had made her, she felt t
he loss of something she never had—him. “I wish I could say that wasn’t true.”

  “Can we be somewhere else today, Farah?”

  “Where else would we be?” she asked.

  “Let’s pretend we’re normal people. Just for today. What do you say, milady?”

  Each time he called her by that term, her toes curled. Not an easy motion in heavy climbing boots. The endearment should have made her laugh, but instead her heart did a jumping jack inside her chest. “Your normal and my normal are two different things, Tristan.”

  “Well, here we are, about as far away from civilization as we can get. We’re at the top of the world, girl. What better place to find common ground?”

  “What is normal for you?”

  “I don’t know anymore. Except you make me feel normal. Is that strange?”

  “Not to me.” Was it the thin air or was he the reason she was struggling to breathe? “You make me feel normal too.” Normal and completely abnormal at the same time.

  “Will you go out on a date with me?”

  It felt so surreal, sitting on a cliff, miles above the ground with his arm around her. She wondered if this was a dream. She laughed and begged herself to stay asleep a while longer.

  “I wasn’t joking,” he said.

  “I accept. But only if you promise to remain valiant and noble.”

  “So that would mean what? No third base?”

  “Is that a football term?”

  “Never mind. I promise I’ll be a complete rake.”

  She punched him. “Tristan!”

  “Sorry, I got my terminology wrong. See, if you’d lent me the book, I would know these things.”

  “It’s disrespectful to the mountain for us to do anything up here.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Yes, she was serious. When it came to K2, the scales were already tipped out of their favor. Tempting fate would be the most foolish thing they could do. She tilted her head. “There are many superstitions. Remember the story I told you back at the shop?”