Rising

by Sharon Wood

  I find Albi sprawled atop the tent, which flaps rapid-fire as he shoves our belongings into his pack. Snow crystals sandblast my face and the wind slaps at my hood as I crawl around pinning the tent down with snow blocks. A jacket plucked from Albi’s grasp shoots upward, whips sideways and is gone. Once packed, we lean headlong into the wind in retreat.

  Hours later, Barry and Dwayne pull us into the snow cave at Four. They cover us with sleeping bags and fill us with tea. I look over at Albi and say, “So much for our small plans.”

  Chapter 14

  The Meeting

  May 6: Camp Two

  Barry and Dwayne move from Camp Four to Five the following day. Instead of fixing ropes on their high shift they exhaust themselves building an igloo to ensure we have shelter that will withstand the kind of wind event Albi and I had just experienced.

  Twenty-one days have passed since Laurie and I first sat atop the west shoulder. We thought then it would take less than a week to establish Camp Five at the other end of the ridge, but in the end it takes three weeks. The storms have grown worse and closer together. Our bodies are breaking down, and Kevin, James and Dave have all been forced to take sick days. We have now been on Everest for fifty days—too high, too long—and the ravages of altitude are outstripping our hard-won acclimatization. Less than half our team can consistently work at Camp Four or above.

  Although we were all aware of the high attrition rate on eight-thousand-metre peaks before we came to Everest, all of us but Dr. Bob and Jane came aiming for the top. We knew that everyone would not summit, and those who did would get there only by all of us throwing everything we have into the pot. By now, we know that Albi, Dwayne, Barry and I are considered the team’s best bets for the summit because of how consistently we can work above 7,300 metres and remain healthy. Albi and I are a tight team, as I assume Barry and Dwayne are by now, having worked together for the last ten days as well. The team planned to make our first attempt by the tenth of May, but the route up the mountain isn’t ready. I am beginning to doubt we will be able to pull it together.

  Jim has called a meeting to discuss our strategy for preparing the upper camps and timing for the summit bid teams. Albi, Dwayne, Barry, Jim and I meet at Camp Two on May 6, when our rest and work rotations intersect. It is another stormy day. The light is muted, the wind a constant. Snow patters and metal zipper tabs tick against the drum-taut tent walls. I find Dwayne, Albi, Barry and Jim in the cook tent, clustered around the radio for the morning call.

  Jane bustles, cooking bacon, flipping pancakes and filling pots with snow and mugs with hot water. She stops to listen when Dave’s voice crackles over the radio. He is waiting at Camp Four for Dan and Laurie, who are coming up from Camp Three. Dave reports that he spent the night alone battling spindrift that kept blocking the entrance and trapping the poisonous off-gases from the stove. Jim grips the radio. By the end of the call, he tells us the meeting is postponed until the boys are down safely.

  I sit amidst the others, yet lost in a dismal world of my own making. I stay in the cook shelter as long as it takes to force down a pancake before I slink out. Jim follows me and motions me to join him.

  Perhaps Jim has noticed my awkwardness in the cook shelter: he is perceptive and checks in with me periodically to ask after my well-being. I feel a flush of shame and wonder what to tell him as we huddle with our backs to the wind. But he has something altogether different in mind.

  He holds out his package of throat lozenges. To suck on a candy whenever we have to breathe hard or talk has become necessity, especially for him. “There’s talk that Annie and Todd are ramping up for the summit,” he says. “I think you should go on the first bid—with Dwayne.”

  I stagger backwards as if he has just taken a swing at me. I cross my arms and blurt, “That’s not the plan! It’s been obvious for weeks now that Dwayne and Barry are a unit. They’re on their way to Basecamp for a rest and I’m slated for another shift up high with Albi. There’s no one else ready or in place to work with him. This isn’t a race, Jim. It’s a team effort. Just let it play out.”

  “It has played out and you four have risen to the top. You’re the obvious ones for the summit bid.”

  I wrap my arms around myself. “The timing isn’t right, Jim.”

  He grasps my arm. “Just hear me out. Dwayne can still go down for a rest. Barry can rest here and replace you in two days—so you can rest.”

  “Have you talked to anyone else about this?”

  “Just Laurie. He agrees. He thinks you should go for it. But—I can’t be seen as favouring one person over another, particularly you.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel special. So why team up with Dwayne rather than Albi for first bid?”

  “Dwayne’s a different case.”

  “What’s different?”

  “You know the story. There’s an unpaid debt from when he gave up his turn for the summit on the ’82 trip and he’s got the most experience up high. Besides—” His voice fades into a whisper. My thoughts race to catch up to all that he has said. “This isn’t about Dwayne,” he continues. “It’s about you—and something way bigger.”

  I think about Albi and all the conversations we’ve had to piece together our plan of going second—together. “No, I don’t feel right doing that,” I say.

  He pulls me in. “Part of our vision is to make history. We can do that—by putting the first woman from North America on top of Everest. It’s been a part of the plan since you joined the team.”

  “No, our vision was to climb a harder route in good style, and if I happen to be one of the climbers who is in the right place and right for the job, then so be it.”

  “Well. Guess what? You are. Here’s our chance to realize the other part.”

  I turn to face him. “‘The other part’”—I stab out quotation marks—“was just a way to attract a sponsor.” I have made sure to quash any special status since the beginning of the trip to avoid alienation. “None of us have given it any further thought or mention. Thank goodness.” My gaze drops to our feet, toe to toe in the same purple plastic boots—his twice as big as mine.

  Jim grasps my arm. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been very careful to never single you out, to treat you as an equal, and to expect no more, and no less. And if we’re talking about seeing how things play out, you’ve earned this chance through merit. You’re strong and an obvious choice for a summit team.”

  We stand in front of a cache of supplies covered by a tarp. An avalanche probe, strung with a Canadian flag, marks its location in a snowdrift. It leans as if tired, bowing and swaying as the flag whips in the wind. I say, “How would you propose the switch at the meeting?”

  “That’s the tricky part. I can’t say anything at the meeting. You guys are going to have to work it out among yourselves.”

  “Right,” I snort. “I can hear myself now: ‘The plan has changed, boys. It’s my turn to go to the top.’ Not happening!”

  “What if Annie gets there first?”

  “Then good on her. Like I said, it’s not a race. We’ll get there when we get there.”

  Jim says, “We might not get a second chance, let alone a first one.” The flag snaps overhead. My gut leaps as the ground drops out from under me.

  “I’ll think about it.” Now I really can’t face the others in the mess tent and I plod back to my own tent, heavy with conflicted thoughts. A man in this same position wouldn’t dither like me.

  I wake sometime later to Laurie, Dave and Dan’s voices and the crunch of snow as they pass my tent on their return from the upper camps. But I remain in the tent, staring up at the ceiling. Sometime later I hear someone approach and then Laurie’s voice.

  “Hey, Sharon, you awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Open up. I just want to say hi before I head down to Camp One.” I sit up and unzip my door.
His smile vanishes when he sees me. “You okay?” he asks.

  “Oh, yeah, just tired is all. Sounds like you had a rough night.”

  “Yeah, effing cold up there. For some reason”—he looks over his shoulder and then back at me, and lowers his voice—“Dan wouldn’t let me spoon with him like you did.” I can’t help but crack a smile. He squats down and keeps his voice low. “What’s with you? Jim told me to come over and talk some sense into you. He said something about you being too nice and that you’d tell me what that means.”

  “Hmm, I’ve never been accused of that before. I don’t feel nice.”

  “What’s wrong? You should be happy that you’re going to the summit with Dwayne.”

  If I can’t understand, then how can he? “I think I’m just exhausted, and I don’t know how to handle this.”

  “Handle what—saying yes to an opportunity of a lifetime?” His eyebrows shoot up, then he narrows his eyes and looks straight into mine. “Listen.” He sets his lips in a straight line across his broad face. “Remember what I told you about recognizing your turn when it comes around? Jim and I aren’t just telling you to go for it because you’re a woman, Sharon. These expeditions are a karmic playground and you’ve got a lot of allies here. This is as close as it gets for a turn to be handed to you on a platter. Hell, you and Dwayne have been through a lot together and I think you’d be the strongest team for the job.”

  Dan shouts, “Hey, Laurie, we’re out of here. You coming?”

  “Yeah, just give me a second!” He reaches in and puts both hands on my shoulders and plants a cold wet kiss on my cheek. Then he rocks back on his heels, springs up and shouts over his shoulder, “Take it!”

  I arrive last to the meeting. Dwayne, Albi, Barry and Jim are sitting on the benches, chatting idly. Jane is there too, ostensibly to mind the stoves. Albi flashes a smile at me and pats the seat beside him in invitation. Everyone grows quiet. The air crackles with anticipation. Thoughts throng in my head. Laurie’s voice whispers, Take it! Another voice counters, Who said anything about it being your turn to take?

  Jim says, “So, who’s going to start? His eyes tick on each of us, ending with me, and he gives me a barely perceptible nod.

  In the instant I hesitate, Barry begins. “What have we got with the extended permit now, Jim? Until the 25th?” Jim nods. “That should be enough to get two teams of two to the top, maybe more. We’ve got what, four more days of fixing to reach Camp Six? So, Dwayne and I figure, given the higher altitude, there are two shifts left above Five.”

  Albi says, “Providing this storm breaks, we’ll head up tomorrow. Then Dave, James and Kevin can replace us. Chris is going to give it a shot too, so that should set you and Dwayne up for the first bid, and give Woody and me a chance to rest before our turn. How many days do you think you’ll need for the first bid?”

  “I figure four days,” Dwayne says. “One day to get to Camp Four, the second to reach Five, the third to Camp Six, which will hopefully be as high as eighty-two hundred metres, and then on the fourth day we attempt the summit. Regardless of the outcome, we’ll be done by then. No rest to be had at eight thousand metres. We’ll need to get as low as possible that same day.”

  “Do you think you’ll start using oxygen?” Albi asks.

  Dwayne says, “We don’t know yet; it’ll depend on a bunch of unknowns.”

  Jim remains passive, as he told me he would. I feel impotent and alone with my knowledge of our talk that morning. Jane’s eyes meet mine to say she is listening and with me. Just as I thought, the plan was already too well established to change now. We discuss what will be required to support two people at Camp Six: one bottle of oxygen per person per day, one tent, 150 metres of the lightest rope we can find to fix through the crux and six canisters of fuel at minimum.

  Jim interjects, “And there must be a team in place at Camp Five ready to help the summit team in case there’s trouble—or it’s no go.”

  The meeting is over. Paralyzed with regret, I watch the others file out.

  Jim is waiting for me outside. Mute with self-defeat, I watch my feet rearrange the snow. “Woody, what’s with you?” he says. “Do you know what you’re doing? I thought you had decided to step up! I told you I couldn’t do it for you.”

  I stare at our boots and mumble, “When could I have said anything? Like I told you, there was already a plan.”

  “What do you mean? I gave you the perfect cue!” I think back to the nod he gave me as I watch his fingers roll a lozenge. “Come on, Woody. Stop being so Canadian! So polite! What’s the difference between Americans and Canadians?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Americans are always first! Here’s your chance to make history. For us—and for Canada!”

  I glance over my shoulder and see Jane poke her head out of our tent and shoot me a look. I meet Jim’s eyes and say, “I need to go think about all this.”

  The air whooshes out of my sleeping bag when I flop onto my back in the tent. Jane peers at me. “Well? What’s going on with you and Jim?”

  I look up at the ceiling and sigh, “He told me to quit being so Canadian.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “He urged me to speak up and tell the guys I want to go on the first bid with Dwayne.” I pause, bracing myself for Jane’s shock over such an idea—her disapproval.

  But instead, she leans over me to pry my eyes off the ceiling. “Go on, I’m listening.”

  I explain Jim’s rationale, and Laurie’s pep talk about this being as close as is possible to being handed my turn on a platter. As I tell her, it’s as if I’m hearing it for the first time—and clearly. “Oh, Jane, I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I think I blew it by not stepping up. I just didn’t think it would play out like this.”

  “Do you really think you’ve made a mistake?”

  I draw a deep breath through my teeth and sigh. “It’s too late now. It’s done—settled. Isn’t it?”

  Jane rubs the bridge of her nose. “Okay, let’s talk this over. Who’s to say you don’t deserve to go first? You’ve worked as hard as anyone, if not more—that much is obvious.” She pauses. “Albi will understand. He can make the second bid with Barry. I thought you said the chances of success are better on the second bid, once everything is in place. He’ll be okay with that.”

  I sit up. “How do I tell them?”

  “You don’t tell them. You ask them. Don’t do it as a group; ask them one at a time. You start with Dwayne because he’s the one who has to agree to climb with you. If he doesn’t, it’s a dealbreaker, right? If Dwayne says yes, then you go to Barry, and then Albi. What’s the worst that can happen? You won’t be any farther behind than you are now if they say no. In fact, if they do say no, it might make it easier in some way.” Marni had applied the same reasoning to asking my teammates if I could join Everest Light. Why must I ask for permission again, but this time to go to the summit first? It doesn’t seem fair. Jane says, “You’re dithering,” and gives me a nudge. “Don’t hesitate. Go now!” And she shoves me out the door.

  When I ask Dwayne if I can speak to him, he unzips the door, pulls an extra sleeping pad out from under him and pushes it to the other side of the tent to invite me in. I crawl inside, pull my knees up against my chest and wrap my arms around them. “Why is it that we have only climbed together once on this trip?” I ask.

  He pops a cough drop into his mouth. “I don’t know.” He clears his throat. “I guess it’s just the way things worked out.”

  “This is awkward,” I begin. “Before I tell you what’s on my mind, I need to know if you have any objections to climbing with me.”

  “Of course not. Why do you ask?”

  “Jim had a talk with me this morning before the meeting and he thinks I should go with you on the first summit bid.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  I blurt, “I want
you to tell me I should join you on the first summit bid.”

  “I can’t tell you that. But I’m okay with it if Barry is.”

  Next, I go to Barry’s tent. Without hesitation, he says, “Go for it, Woody. I’ll be here till August if that’s what it takes. Besides, I owe you one.” He reminds me that I took his place to help Dwayne complete the packing while he went off on his honeymoon. My heart pounds and my mind reels over what I’m setting in motion as I leave him.

  I stall at the door of Albi’s tent, having left the hardest conversation for last. “Hey Albi, can I come in for a minute?”

  “Sure, more than a minute if you like.” I open his door to see him curled up on his sleeping bag, smiling up at me. His smile fades when I don’t reflect it back. Albi bolts upright. “Uh oh, what’s up?”

  I climb in and get settled. I can’t meet his eyes. “Albi, I’ve decided to go on the first summit bid with Dwayne.” I glance at him and wince.

  “What!” Albi falls back onto his sleeping bag and cradles his head in his hands. He sighs. “I thought something was amiss between you and Jim.” He shakes his head, still gazing at the ceiling, “Fucking Jim. That conniving bastard!” He looks through me, as if I’ve already ceased to exist, and says, “Well, I guess you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I unfold myself and leave as carefully as I can so as not to break anything else.

  Steam billows out of Jim’s tent when he opens his door. “Quick, get in.” He is bent over a steaming pot with a jacket over his head, breathing in the moisture as I tell him what I have just done. “Great. Can I assume, then, that you’ll head back up with Albi for a couple of days tomorrow?”

  “If he’ll have me.”