Feeling a flutter of life beneath his fingers, Dorje’s heart warmed. “I’m certain she will be as beautiful as her mother.”
“Or as willful as his father.”
They spent the morning talking about names and how their child would go to Hillary’s school in Khumjung to become a great teacher. All the while, Dorje sensed she knew something wasn’t right, but he still couldn’t tell her.
Nor did he speak of being with the beautiful Sherpani when lying with Beth that night. Nothing could interfere with making love to her. Discussion of Shanti and the baby would come later, perhaps when he got the courage to ask about Eric.
CHAPTER 27
To reach the summit, Dorje would have to move up the hierarchy of porters: those who carry only to Base Camp, those who shuttle loads through the icefall and Western Cum, and the climbing Sherpas who save their strength for the final ascent by not carrying until they are on the mountain itself. From this group, two or more would be selected to accompany assault teams to the top. And for this, he would need Marty’s help, so he wanted to delay the American’s discovery of his relationship with Beth as long as possible.
When he returned from Shanti’s, Dorje talked to his father about hiring their animals out to the expedition. “I want nothing to do with these strangers. Don’t speak of this again,” Mingma snapped with his usual tone of finality.
A man worthy of a beautiful woman’s love, Dorje was no longer easily held down. “You were once the wealthiest trader in Namche,” he reminded his father. “But now you borrow from your cousin in Phakding. How will you repay Kancha? By selling dung when you can get ten times that amount without even working.”
“It’s better than selling my soul like you and Pemba. I thought you understood me now,” Mingma said with sadness in his eyes.
“Yes, but I don’t like watching you suffer. They will pay well, enough to return your rupees and still have enough to buy grain for the finest chang in Namche.”
After an hour of such discussion, Mingma finally relented. As Dorje was explaining to the sirdar and expedition leader that he could provide fifteen yaks, Marty approached wagging a finger through a hole in his shirt. “Hey, Buck buck, need to talk to you when you’re done.” Dorje put him off as long as he could, assuming the man had heard them in the tent last night. In a confidential voice, Marty said, “If you’ll do me this big favor, I promise to get you to the top. I think Beth really likes me. We played cards all morning and talked about how much we both love Colorado. When we get back to the States, I’m going in for some serious date-ness.” With one brow raised, he whispered, “And if I’m lucky, I’ll get into her tent at Base Camp.”
Eyeing him, Dorje tried to assess if there was a remote possibility he was right and finally concluded the man was hallucinating the way mikarus do at high altitude, even though they were only at 11,300 feet. “What favor?”
“I planned on hiking all the way to Base Camp with her. You know, getting a little friendlier each night. But instead, we’re going to practice on your 20,000-foot hills for about ten days before tackling serious altitude-ness on Everest.” He draped an arm over Dorje’s shoulder and hung on him. “So, Geronimo, I want you to take care of her for me until then. The sirdar speaks a little English, but he’ll be with us. That leaves only you and I know I can trust you to make sure she’s all right and answer any questions about Sherpas. Deal?”
“Deal,” Dorje answered, suppressing the huge grin eager to sprint across his face. The problem of acclimatizing that had caused so much grief when working with trekkers had just given him a 10-day reprieve by getting rid of Marty. “I will go tell her we leave tomorrow after the yaks are loaded.” He would also explain he didn’t want to risk Marty seeing him come to her tent that night and they would soon have much time alone.
The following morning, Dorje said good-bye to the expedition members and then sent Beth ahead to Tengboche with the porters so no one would see them leaving Namche together. Single-handedly driving fifteen heavily laden yaks up rocks taller than their short legs proved more grueling than Dorje anticipated. And keeping the recalcitrant beasts from tossing their loads 500 feet down to the Dudh Kosi sent him running back and forth always on the uphill side so an angry horn didn’t shove him off. He was exhausted by the time he turned them loose to graze in Tengboche.
After finally removing most of the day’s dust and sweat, Dorje crawled into Beth’s tent to make love in the afternoon. As they lay together afterwards, she asked the question he was dreading but knew had to be answered sometime. “I had a lot of time to think while trekking today and wonder if you’re still engaged to Shanti?”
Nervous about admitting the truth, he was more afraid of lying and having her find out. His voice faltered and then rose as if the muscles in his throat had stretched too thin. “Yes, because she is large with my child.”
“She’s pregnant?”
As she shrank from him, Dorje tried to explain. “I went to her because I thought I was not important to you. I was just another Sherpa.”
“You’ve never been that.”
“I didn’t know. And my father had gone to her father to arrange our marriage.”
“This changes everything,” Beth said removing her hand from his thigh.
“No, it’s all right. Our families rushed the dem-chang so our child will not be born in shame.”
“So you’re even closer to marriage.”
“But Shanti and I don’t live together and we are still free to be with others.”
“It’s a strange set up, if you ask me, but what do I know. I’m sure our customs will seem strange to you too. What’s this dem-chang like anyway?”
“My family and friends wore their best clothes and walked to Shanti’s home in Khumjung. Her family served them beer and tea followed by rice and vegetables. Then my family gave katas to hers and her father talked about how the two families are now joined. When all of that was done, everyone drank chang and danced all the night. Mingma and Nima stayed at her uncle’s house partying until the next morning.”
“And you and Shanti?”
“We were not there. The man and woman who will be married a year or two later are not part of the dem-chang.”
After an interminable silence, Beth asked, “And does she know about us?”
Wanting to savor the after-glow of lovemaking, Dorje wished Beth would stop asking these awful questions. Moving closer to bury his face in her hair, he said, “No. I went to her yesterday and spoke of the climb. I said I would be gone for weeks but nothing more.”
Beth’s voice seemed detached from the woman lying beside him. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
He forced Beth to look at him. “It has nothing to do with not loving you. I didn’t want to hurt her now. I’ll tell her when I return from Everest and can give her and the baby all the rupees I earn. Now I ask the same question. Does Eric know about me?”
“No,” she admitted. “He doesn’t even suspect you, but he does sense that things aren’t right between us. We’ve put off the wedding until I get back and we see how things are.”
Now Dorje rolled over and turned away with a long, exasperated exhale. “And just how are things?”
“Perfect with you. Never did I imagine I could so completely happy.”
“So why didn’t you tell Eric?”
She grabbed his hair and gave it a playful tug. “Because, silly, I didn’t know if you were married or if you’d even remember me.”
He clasped both hands around her buttocks and murmured, “Come here. I will show you how much I remember.” He made love to her again and with no more secrets and no more uncertainty, he was ecstatic beyond anything he’d ever dreamt.
* * * * * * * * *
Beth woke to the deep, sustained tones of the long dung-chen horns coming from the monastery. It seemed an eternity ago that the lamas had prayed for her, almost as if the storm and all that followed weren’t real. But the man lying beside her was. Afraid of loving, h
er mind had tried to resist Dorje by continually injecting doubts and shoving temptations in her path like the trip to Mt. Roraima. But it had failed and nothing mattered now except lying here in a frigid tent at 12,680 feet with an unschooled man who had taught her how to feel. She would never give that up no matter what the cost.
As they dressed, Beth said, “I want to hike with you and the yaks. Might as well get used to them, hadn’t I?”
Dorje chuckled. “You won’t like it.”
He was right about the yaks. They grunted and balked on steep sections, kicked a constant flurry of irritating dust up her nose, and generally made life miserable. But she loved giggling with Dorje, giving him spontaneous kisses, holding his hand when the trail was wide enough, walking single-file to tickle his butt when it wasn’t. To give her plenty of time to acclimate, he said they’d only travel about four hours a day and sleep at each new altitude before moving higher again.
On the way, he took her to the monastery in Pangboche to see a yeti scalp and hand. An old man with skin seamed by wrinkles and darkened by wind and smoke carefully guarded the relics. Holding the iron-hard scalp with red bristles, Beth didn’t know what to believe. The Sherpas were adamant about the creature’s existence and many reputable climbers had found tracks, including Hillary and Tenzing in 1953. However, Hillary’s yearlong search in 1960 had been fruitless. Beth smiled and returned it to the old man. Real or not, the possibility of a yeti pursuit above Namche had been the most thrilling and romantic evening of her life.
They camped at 14,031 feet in Periche and from there continued up the valley past the yersa hut where Mingma had first brought them after the storm. “I was so cold and sick all I can remember is lying with my head in your lap and hearing you and your father going on for hours.”
“Oh yes. A most surprising story that explains why he didn't come for me.”
“They were lovers from different worlds like us,” she said, “but we don’t have a Chinese invasion to tear us apart.” Only a mountain, she thought but crushed the words into pieces fine as sand and swept them away.
They camped at 16, 269 feet in Lobuche and after climbing a tributary moraine early the next morning, they stood looking at the great Khumbu Glacier stretching all the way to the base of Everest. What possessed men to come here and trudge through ice and snow just to go up a mountain? It was beyond her. Perhaps she should be writing about the insanity of foreign climbers instead of the Sherpas who work for them. At least they had an economic incentive. By noon she and Dorje reached the highest yersa in the valley, Gorak Shep, land of the crows. It was a desolate land of sand and rock where only the sharp tongue of a yak could forage. After resting an hour for lunch and letting the animals graze, they continued on to Base Camp at 17, 519 feet. Having dreamed of seeing the summit of Everest up close with its trademark plume of condensation trailing off into the jet stream, Beth was disappointed. “Where’s the top?”
“You can’t see it from here. Only from Gokyo or a black hill on the other side of Gorak Shep called Kala Pattar.”
She sank onto a boulder, exhausted, short of breath, and disappointed in this wasteland of rock and ice: not the exotic gateway to the highest point on earth that she had envisioned. Watching the yaks snort past with hoarfrost clinging to the hair on their flanks making their legs look even ridiculously shorter, Beth wasn’t sure she could do this forever. For three days and three nights when the temperature dropped below zero and her breath froze, she’d been considering talking to Dorje about their future and where they would live. Namche didn’t hold the same long-term allure for her that it apparently did for Hamar
That evening as the mountains smothered them in deep shadows, she and Dorje lay buried under a mound of blankets in their sleeping bags zipped together, their feet pointing away from Everest so as not to offend the goddess Miyolangsangma. Beth listened to the groan and creak of the glacier shifting and the quiet murmur of porters in nearby tents chanting mantras to the gods for their tolerance and protection. When a faint crash sounded in the distance, she shot straight up. “What’s that?”
“Only an avalanche,” he reassured her.
“Only?”
“It’s far away. Don’t be afraid.”
“Sorry,” she said, lying back down. “Can’t help it.”
Rummaging through his jacket, Dorje withdrew a piece of braided red string. “Here,” he said tying it around her neck. “I brought this sungdi blessed by the monk at Tengboche. It will protect you.”
Fingering it, Beth felt an unexpected calm settling over her and realized this is what she had come to write about: mountaineering from the Sherpa point of view, and she was beginning to think like one. The ice and snow reflecting off the mountain walls in the moonlight filled the tent with a strange whiteness. Dorje was gazing at her while gently running his finger over her lips as if he knew she wanted to talk. It seemed the right time.
“I’ve been thinking about our life together,” she began. His finger paused on her lips as if to hush her, but she removed it. “I wonder where we’ll spend it.” She waited, a bit quivery inside, uncertain of his thoughts.
He playfully tugged her earlobe and whispered, “Wherever you want.”
“Really? You’d consider coming to the States with me?”
“Yes. I know you’ll bored here and I want to see outside of Nepal.”
“I’m so excited. You can travel all over the world with me.”
“And what will I do there, be your Sherpa porter? You know I didn’t go to school and can’t read or write.”
“I’ll teach you and soon you’ll be writing the stories instead of me and I’ll be out of a job.”
“Then you can be my porter,” he said with a nervous laugh.
The next morning, the lowland porters started their long journey home to Kathmandu, leaving only the cook and kitchen boys to set up camp. “I want to help,” Beth said, arms akimbo, surveying dozens of food containers, kitchen utensils, medical supplies, tents, ladders, and climbing gear. “I want to participate, not just write about it.”
Dorje chuckled. “You don’t know what to do and will have to wait until I get back from Gorak Shep. A Sherpani down there is going to return the yaks to Namche for me.”
Beth swaggered towards him “I’m going with you. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
But by the time they returned that afternoon, the altitude had zapped her. “Tomorrow,” she yawned. “We have five more days before the climbers and their porters arrive.” Leaning over as if to tie her boots, she rolled a snowball and flung it at Dorje, catching him completely off guard.
“You demon,” he yelled and scooped up a handful to hurl back. Giggling and tossing snow, they chased each other over the glacier and bombarded the other Sherpas who gleefully joined in the fight.
Panting and doubled over with her hands on her knees, Beth finally pleaded, “I give up. No more. Have mercy on me.”
“Like you did on me last night?” Dorje asked with a fistful of snow hovering above her. “Promise that you’ll be good?”
“I promise,” she answered with an impish grin.
Their chase had brought them to the 2,000-foot icefall at the head of the glacier. From a distance, it looked like a frozen waterfall, but Beth now realized the groaning and cracking she’d heard in the night was ice breaking into immense blocks. The turquoise pinnacles towering 100 feet overhead created an eerie maze of shifting, unstable ice. And she was afraid. “You’re not going up there?”
He eyed the icefall as if searching for a route. “Yes, many times, I think.”
Sadness resonated in her voice as she huddled against him for warmth. “I don’t want you to go. It’s too dangerous. Stay here and we’ll do the story together by talking to porters as they return.”
“I have to.”
“No, you don’t,” Beth tossed back angrily.
“Since I was five, I have been the Tenzing of the future and the future is now.”
&n
bsp; That made no sense at all, but she gritted her teeth and kept her mouth shut not wanting to alienate him. Then he surprised her by revealing he’d been thinking of their future too and had real insight into himself. Arm in arm, they started walking back to camp. “In Namche, I am an important man and earn many rupees because I am strong, know the mountains, and speak good English for big tips. But in American, I’ll be nobody.”
She hip jostled him and grinned. “Not after tomorrow. Remember, I’m going to teach you to read and write. Besides, you understand things better than anybody I know. We can travel around the world with you providing the brains and me the grammar. Or you can learn photography and take Eric’s place.”
Beyond the summit: An Everest adventure and Romance Page 27