Worth Every Step

by K. G. MacGregor

  He fixed his face in a pout, which set her off even more. She was tired of putting his feelings first, always being diplomatic to soften the blow to his ego.

  “Really, Bobby. I’ve been looking forward to this trip since February. I’ve worked hard to get in shape for it, and I’ve planned every single detail all by myself. It may be nothing to you, but it’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever done, and I haven’t even been able to talk to you about it because all you can think about is how it affects you. You haven’t encouraged me. You haven’t asked me any questions or shown any interest at all. All you’ve done is belittle the whole idea and try to make me feel like an idiot who can’t even cross the street by herself.”

  She knew she had finally struck a nerve because the tips of his ears were turning red and his jaw was set like a brick. Her normal modus operandi was to bail him out after a disagreement by changing the subject just to take the sting away, but this time she wanted him to feel it.

  Bobby waited a full minute before speaking. “I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” She knew she could have pressed him into groveling, but Bobby usually took criticism to heart, and when he apologized, it was genuine. It made her wish she had told him a few weeks ago that he was ruining her fun. Instead, she had concerned herself with his feelings.

  They drove along in silence until veering south on Interstate 285 toward the airport. She already dreaded the awkward parting.

  “Your plane leaves at eleven, right?”

  “Five till.”

  He chuckled. “I bet you’re not too excited about what happens after that.”

  She recognized his joke about her mortal fear of flying as an attempt to lighten their collective mood, and she appreciated it. “Okay, that part I haven’t been looking forward to as much.”

  “What time do you get there?”

  She retrieved her travel documents from her backpack and thumbed through to the itinerary. “I left one of these with Mom if you want to make a copy and keep up with where I am. My plane gets into Johannesburg at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, which will be two a.m. for you. And then at eleven thirty, I board the Air Tanzania flight for Kilimanjaro. That’s two and a half hours, but there’s another time change.”

  “So when I get up tomorrow at seven…”

  “I should be landing at Kilimanjaro.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wish I was going just to see you drag your butt off that plane tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be comatose.”

  “You’ll be dragging your butt up the mountain too.”

  “Maybe not. I have all day Sunday to rest. We don’t leave on our hike until Monday morning.”

  “I remember…something about the plane schedule.”

  “Right. This flight doesn’t go on Saturdays, so I had to go a day early. It should work out fine though. At least I’ll be rested up and acclimated a little to the time change by the time we leave.”

  “And how many days is your hike?”

  She would have given anything for him to have asked these questions back when she was dying to tell him about it. At least he was making an effort now, even though it had taken her getting angry to get him to do it. “It’s supposed to take us six and a half days to get to the top and one and a half to hike back down. And we summit in the middle of the night, so that means we get there Sunday morning.”

  “How come they make you climb it at night?”

  “Somebody said it was because the sun melts the ice and makes it too slick to walk on. If we go at night, it’s easier to walk.”

  “Except you can’t see where you’re going. They ought to just give you those pickaxes so you can get a grip in the ice.”

  To hear him talk, it was clear he hadn’t listened to a word she had said about the hike. “I picked this time to go because we’ll have a full moon. The tour company said we should be able to see everything, but we’ll have flashlights if we need them.”

  “I hope you get good weather.”

  “Me too.” Just because she had spent two hundred dollars on rain gear didn’t mean she wanted to use it.

  “Do you know anything about the people in your group?”

  “Not much. There are fourteen of us from all over the country, but I don’t know any more than that.”

  “I hope they’re nice.”

  “I’m sure they will be. And I bet we’ve all spent the last six months the same way, getting in shape and deciding what to take, so we’ll have that in common.”

  They passed a directional sign for the airport, and Bobby moved into the exit lane. Mary Kate was glad they had smoothed things over. She could get on the plane now and push it out of her head, thinking only about Africa for the next two weeks.

  “If you want to, you can let me out at the curb. Then you can get back to Mooresville and not miss too much work.”

  “You know I’m not going to just dump you out on the sidewalk, Mary Kate. I can be a little late. It’s not like I don’t work nights and weekends at home.”

  That much was true. The principal at their school was nearing retirement, and dependent on Bobby for things that required details or patience. There was little doubt Bobby would take over soon as principal, quite an accomplishment for a guy who was only twenty-nine years old.

  They followed the signs for the parking garage, finally securing a space on the fourth level. Mary Kate’s only experience with this airport was a couple of times dropping people off, so she began to feel as if her adventure was already underway.

  Bobby opened the trunk and reached for the yellow canvas bag. She grabbed the smaller bag and backpack.

  “Mary Kate, how are you going to carry all these bags to the top of that mountain? They must weigh sixty pounds.”

  “All I have to carry is my backpack. We have porters for everything else.”

  “That’s all? Just your backpack?”

  “Just the stuff I need during the day.”

  “Wow, I don’t think you ever told me that part. You shouldn’t have any trouble at all getting to the top if you don’t have to carry all your stuff.”

  “It still isn’t going to be easy, Bobby. It’s over nineteen thousand feet, and we have to do it in temperatures below zero. The last mile of that is like walking up stairs that don’t ever end, and the oxygen just gets thinner and thinner.”

  “But all you have to do is keep walking.” He set down the Summit bag so he could put the parking ticket in his wallet and she picked it up, slinging it over the opposite shoulder from the lighter bag and backpack. “I’ll get that, Mary Kate.”

  She was thoroughly annoyed again, and ignored him. “I can manage these. Why don’t you find a staircase and try to walk up it for seven hours? It should be a piece of cake for somebody like you.”

  “Now don’t be like that.” He hurried to catch up with her, lifting the Summit bag from her shoulder. “I was trying to be encouraging, because I know you’re going to get to the top. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but so what? I will have accomplished something that’s no big deal to you. Won’t I be proud?”

  “Man, I’m just stepping in it right and left. I’m not trying to—”

  “You know what, Bobby? Talking about this is a bad idea. Why don’t we just forget it?” She didn’t want to leave this way. He wasn’t going to miraculously get it all of a sudden, and she decided on the spot that it no longer mattered. This was her trip, not their trip. “Let’s just get these bags checked.”

  They found the ticket counter for the flight to Johannesburg and joined the line.

  “What all are you going to do while I’m gone?” She listened half-heartedly as Bobby described his schedule for the next two weeks—work, Sunday dinners with her family and a couple of recreation league softball games. Her thoughts wandered to the advice her mother had given her back in high school when she first started dating, that guys liked to talk about themselves, so
she should try to think of interesting questions. Since women had trained them to be this way for generations, it didn’t seem fair to complain now.

  They finally made it to the front of the line, where Bobby had the good sense to stand quietly as she handled her own check-in. The agent said the flight was on time and would begin boarding about an hour before departure.

  Then she watched her bags disappear through the X-ray machine, hoping they were headed where she was. There was plenty of time to kill, but she was eager to get her trip officially underway. In her mind, that didn’t happen until she was on her own. “So I guess I should head on toward the gate.”

  “Yeah, and I need to get on back to work.”

  They walked slowly toward the entrance to the winding security line where only ticketed passengers were allowed. Bobby took her hand and squeezed it, looping his fingers through hers.

  “Look, Mary Kate, I’m proud of what you’re doing, no matter what stupid things I might have said. If you get to the top of that mountain, that’s fantastic. But if you don’t, that’s fantastic too. I’m going to love you either way. The biggest thing is for you to take care of yourself.”

  She turned into his arms. He always gave good hugs, the kind that made her feel warm and safe. If she knew one thing for certain about Bobby, it was that he would never deliberately hurt her, no matter how clumsy his words or deeds.

  “I know this is important to you, Mary Kate. But when you get back, we need to start thinking about the things that are important to both of us.”

  Though she knew he hadn’t mean anything bad by that, it still rubbed her the wrong way, like so many other things he had said this morning. If it was important to her, it should be important to both of them.

  “I want you to think about us while you’re gone. When you get this out of your system, we’ll go off to Myrtle Beach so we can talk about our future.”

  Out of her system? Like an intestinal bug? She didn’t want to think about their miserable relationship for the next sixteen days, her first and probably only trip to Africa. She wanted to go and have a good time.

  “I really love you, Mary Kate, and I think we ought to be engaged by the time school starts.”

  She pushed back from his embrace to read his face. This was it, then. The second and last time he would ask—which meant she needed to answer this time. She would have preferred to see a loving or hopeful gaze…something sweet and maybe even intimate. What she got was earnest, the ever-practical Bobby Britton.

  “I should go.” The growing security line appeared as her imminent salvation.

  “I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you too.” She hugged him again hard and kissed him quickly on the lips. Then she turned and walked away, resolved to break up with him once and for all as soon as she got home.

  Chapter Five

  Mary Kate let out a breath of relief as the wheels touched down. The joke her mom had made about having enough in her bags to move here didn’t seem so silly once it occurred to her the only way to get home was to get back on a plane.

  Her first up-close look at Tanzania was the small terminal flashing by as they slowed to taxi. It reminded her of the cafeteria at the school where she taught, a square building with a flat roof, but this one had a small tower in the center. Despite the crew’s commands to remain seated, people were already standing to gather their belongings. She had a small shoulder bag for her money, tickets and passport, and the few things she thought she would need during the flight. Her backpack was crammed into the overhead bin.

  When they finally stopped, she stood and stretched in the aisle, amazed to realize her second wind, despite being up all night. She was thrilled to finally be here, not because it was the end of her journey, but the beginning of her African adventure.

  At the door she got a blast of hot, humid air, not unlike Georgia on its most miserable summer day. They filed off the plane slowly, descending the stairs onto the steaming tarmac. She couldn’t stop thinking that her feet were walking on a whole new continent, and she tried to commit it all to memory. The Kilimanjaro airport was as antiquated as Hartsfield in Atlanta was modern. Grass grew up through the cracks in the asphalt, and the building could have used a fresh coat of paint.

  Through a glass door marked Arrivals, signs in both Swahili and English directed them into two lines, one for visitors to Tanzania, the other for residents returning home. Mary Kate was near the back of her line, which made her worry since she could see their bags being delivered in the room beyond. The last thing she needed was for her things to be stolen off the conveyor while she was stuck in line.

  She recognized about a dozen people who had gotten on the plane in Atlanta. One was just ahead of her in the line, a young man with short blond hair that stood up in all directions. She had almost spoken to him in the departure lounge at Johannesburg, but when she saw that he was wearing earphones, she guessed he didn’t want to be bothered. That was a nice trick, one she used sometimes on Carol Lee.

  She finally reached the front of the line and handed her visa and brand new passport to the agent. He examined both—if one could call a cursory glance an examination—stamped the passport and handed it back without a word. She resisted the urge to page through it right away to check out the stamp, feeling it would make her look like the novice traveler she was.

  The first thing she noticed in the baggage claim area was a cluster of people collecting blue bags marked with the name of another tour company. By their accents, she guessed them to be British, or maybe South African. She couldn’t tell the difference. An Asian couple in their early thirties held yellow Summit bags like hers, and she turned in time to see a third Summit bag go by, only to be hoisted by the blond man. His face fell when he read the tag, and he placed it back on the conveyor. Mary Kate tugged it off and caught her other canvas bag right behind it. Her feeling of relief was palpable, as was the obvious despair on the man’s face.

  “I see you got your ugly yellow Summit bag,” he said, his face set in a grim smile.

  “Yours didn’t make it?”

  He shook his head. “No, my flight from Denver into Atlanta was late. I guess they didn’t have time to make the transfer. At least I won’t have any trouble getting through customs.”

  She couldn’t believe he wasn’t frantic. “Maybe there are some that haven’t come out yet.” Just as she said that, the conveyor stopped.

  “I’d say that’s everything.” He held out a hand and she got her first good look at him. He was about her age, maybe a few years older, slightly built and not much taller. “I’m Drew Harper.”

  “Mary Kate Sasser.” Having two first names was not her favorite southern trait. Her friends from college in Savannah knew her as Kate, but all the confusion from her teachers, who had called her Mary, made the whole idea of changing her name more trouble than it was worth.

  “I guess I need to go file a claim. You don’t happen to speak Swahili, do you?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “I didn’t think so. That accent of yours is a dead giveaway. I’ll guess Atlanta.”

  “Close. A couple of hours east in Mooresville.”

  “What’s that near?”

  “Nothing at all whatsoever.”

  He laughed. “Sounds like the Denver airport.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It isn’t near anything either.” Sensing her confusion, he quickly added, “Sorry, that’s kind of a local joke.”

  “What are you going to do about your stuff?”

  “Don’t know. We don’t go up till Monday. Maybe it’ll come in on the next plane.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but there isn’t another one from Atlanta until Wednesday.”

  He made a face. “I forgot about that. I guess I could be an optimist and imagine they got as far as Johannesburg. But since neither of mine made it and both of yours did…” He shook his head, apparently resigned to the likelihood they wouldn’t arrive in Tanzania before the star
t of their trek. “I’m sure I’m not the first person this has happened to. Maybe I can pick up a few things tomorrow.”

  “Here?” As soon as she said it, she remembered her irritation at Bobby for assuming there wouldn’t be 7-Elevens in Tanzania. She had no idea what sort of shops they had near Kilimanjaro, but it made perfect sense someone would sell hiking gear. “You’re probably right.”

  They were joined then by the Asian couple with the Summit bags. “Are you both with Summit?”

  Mary Kate felt stupid for being surprised at the man’s American accent. “Yes, I’m Mary Kate. This is Drew.”

  They shook hands as Drew explained about his lost bags. The newcomers were Neal and his wife Mei, from Seattle. Mei was looking over the papers Tom Muncie had sent and noted that the bus to Moshi, which was the base for their expedition, was due in a half hour. That was plenty of time for Drew to file his claim and the rest of them to clear customs.

  Customs amounted to handing over the form she had filled out on the plane saying basically that she had nothing illegal in her bags—no drugs, no weapons, no piles of cash or jewelry. From there, she went outside to an open-air café to wait with Neal and Mei.

  Mei found a table and promised to watch their things while she read more about the trip. Mary Kate and Neal bought bottled sodas and took the opportunity to stretch their legs along the sidewalk in front of the terminal. Neal finished his drink in about four gulps and covered his mouth to belch. “Did you see the mountain from the plane?”

  “God, yes. It scared the crap out of me.”

  “Me too. Hard to believe we’ll all be up there this time next week.”

  “I hope we’ll all be up there. I thought I was ready until I saw it up close.”

  “Mei said the same thing. We’ve hiked up to twelve or thirteen thousand feet in the Cascades, but this makes those look like foothills.”

  Mary Kate was embarrassed to tell him about her climb up Rabun Bald, which wasn’t half that high. If they weren’t ready for this, she figured she didn’t have a prayer. “What made you guys decide to try this?”