Beyond the Summit (34 page)

Half way to the top, Beth spotted a flashlight a hundred yards away in the center of a large, enclosed pasture. Slowly climbing over the rock wall, she strolled towards it, her stomach in knots, not knowing what to say or do. Dorje was waiting at the base of a large boulder painted in bright images of Buddha and local deities. Long strings of prayer flags radiating from the top stretch to the ground.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured.

“I am too.” Immediately upon seeing him, Beth’s heart boldly swept all reason away like dust motes on a windy morn. To hell with intellect. The promise of marrying a man who offered security and a lifetime of exotic travel had blinded her too long.

When Dorje said, “Come with me,” and took her hand, she wanted nothing to have changed between them. Atop the boulder, they stood under a full moon ringed by an orange glow creating a pale haze around it. Reflecting moonlight, the jagged, snow-clad peaks stood like silent sentinels guarding the village accompanied only by the ruffling of prayer flags. His hand gentle against her cheek, Dorje caressed her lips with his until her passion pulled him deeper, insatiable for his kisses. No words spoken, no longing whispers, their bodies said it all in an unbroken embrace until the butter lamps dimmed and campfires turned to embers.

“You’re shivering,” he whispered, “and I have no bag to wrap around you now.”

Feeling him hard against her and smelling his hair and skin, Beth felt it was as if the last few months had never existed. This was her reality. “Then make love to keep me warm.”

Descending the dirt path with his arm around her, Dorje said, “We cannot go to Pemba’s. His rooms are full of relatives from nearby villages who came for the Dumje.”

By the time they reached the expedition camp, everyone had gone to bed. With fingers flying, Beth and Dorje unzipped jeans and pulled shirts over their heads before snuggling in a one-person sleeping bag. Needing the full length of his naked body against hers, Beth pulled him on top the way they had lain on the mountain. “You kept me warm when I was dying,” she whispered and felt tears lurking.

Dorje’s news excited her more than he knew because it proved love was more powerful than reason. Her only mistake had been waiting too long to realize it, but it didn’t matter now. She was here and had the rest of her life to listen to a heart telling her to give herself wholly to this man whose very presence allowed her to soar with wings unfurled.

He stopped her hand when she tried to reach between his legs and asked, “Tell me first. Are you going to stay at Base Camp waiting for news from Marty like he says?”

“Well, I don’t. So get that thought ridiculous thought out of your head. I only came with him because it gave me an excuse to see you.”

When he began his slow, sensual exploration with hand and tongue, she forgot the question and surrendered to the most passionate love making of her life. At the first misty rays of dawn, she felt him quietly trying to slip away without waking her. Yawning, Beth asked, “Where are you going?”

“I want to leave before Marty gets up. He will be jealous of us and I do not want to risk losing my best chance of getting hired as a porter and going to the top.”

“But I still don’t want you to go up there.”

Pulling his jeans on and zipping them, Dorje said, “Tomorrow, I will tell you about meeting Hillary when I was five. They called me the Tenzing of the future and it has been my fate to climb ever since. This is my first chance since I returned to Namche. I must go. I hope you can understand.” He leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll see you in Base Camp many nights and return from the top before you know I’m gone.”

After he exited the tent, she realized he had avoided the question of Shanti and never asked about Eric. They had much to discuss yet, but none of it seemed important as long as they were in love and together again.

Leaving Beth early, Dorje was confident no one had seen him. With his emotions reeling from everything that had happened in the past few hours and new decisions to be made, he knew two things were clear. He would fulfill his fate as Tenzing and nothing could shake his love for Beth. Finding Nima at home shivering on the floor without a blanket, Dorje wrapped one around him and lay back to back with their bodies flush as they had slept since childhood. He chuckled, too much
chang
no doubt. Having finally made peace with his brother yesterday, he wondered how Nima was going to feel about Beth’s arrival? And Mingma. After dancing in perfect unison with his father, Dorje was going to spring an Everest climb on him knowing his father considered it a sin to trespass on the abode of the gods. Months of good feelings could be wiped out in seconds.

Then there was Shanti, the most difficult of all, and almost six months pregnant with his baby after he made love to her the night he felt spurned by Beth. Even though Shanti’s family had rushed the
dem-chang
to make their baby legitimate, he was still free to sleep with Beth. But Shanti would be hurt and she didn't deserve that. It was too much all at once. Not wanting to alienate everybody on the same day, Dorje decided to wait until after Everest to tell Shanti about Beth. Giving her and the baby all the rupees earned on the climb would help appease his conscience.

Feeling Nima restless behind him, Dorje decided to put off that confession too. While in Namche, he and Beth would simply have to appear aloof. Dorje rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Of course, there was also Marty to deal with. Jealousy could hinder Dorje’s chances of being hired for the expedition. Foolishly, he had let on that he knew Beth and reacted strongly to her being here, but perhaps the American didn’t consider a lowly Sherpa competition for her affection and had passed it off. Too much to think about, Dorje pulled the blanket over his head and tried smothering his brain.

The next morning, Nima and Mingma teased Droma Sunjo about getting drunk, dancing, and flirting with all the men at yesterday’s Dumje. Stooped over the hearth, she blushed and hid behind her hand giggling, which only made them more merciless. Grateful for the distraction, Dorje thought he was going to escape scrutiny until Mingma asked where he had disappeared to last night. His stomach soured like spoiled milk. Might as well get it over with because the climbers would be leaving soon.

“An American climber I worked for last fall is here with the expedition camped in the village. He wants to hire me again.”

“But only as a porter carrying part way,” Mingma said, his shoulders arching back and stiffening.

Although they were lined up in Dorje’s head, the words were afraid to venture forth, so he gave them a swift kick out the door. “At first, yes, but he wants me to go to the top with him.” His father leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs with his hands clasped, and said nothing. “Like Hillary and Tenzing,” Dorje threw out for support. “Remember how I met them at five?”

Mingma’s unflinching stare cut through him like lightning splitting a tree. “You will not go,” he uttered with a finality that would have daunted Dorje six months ago. “I have bad feelings about this.”

“But I must.” Empowered by Beth’s love, Dorje felt invincible even in the face of his father’s edict. “They called me the Tenzing of the future.”

Mingma rose and started that infuriating pacing that still unnerved him. “You were a silly boy begging for candy. They were only playing with you. It meant nothing.”

Fortunately, Droma Sunjo intervened and he didn’t have to respond. “So you will die like my Lhakpa,” she said with eyes downcast and the blush of a few moments ago having paled. Never in five years had she entered into a family discussion—she who usually understood him better than anyone.

Lhakpa had been reckless carrying a double load and traveling at night, but Dorje wouldn’t remind her of that. “I promise to be very careful and return quickly to you, the woman with the prettiest smile in Namche.”

Now Nima took at turn at him. “Oh yes, my careful brother who has never done anything insane like standing in the middle of a river at the top of a 300-foot waterfall.”

“I have good balance and knew what I was doing. I was never in danger.”

“Or when you dangled from a single cord on a 400-foot cliff digging in a bee’s nest.”

“I was with a band of honey-hunters who do it all the time.” Now he got up and started pacing. Maybe it was genetic. “I don’t want to argue. I haven’t even been hired as a porter yet and will have to prove myself as good as the climbing Sherpas from Darjeeling if I want to go to the top.” That news appearing to ease the tension since no one seemed to think he could do it, Dorje felt a little insulted but decided to let it go.

Looking for Marty in the expedition camp, he purposely ignored Beth to avoid arousing jealousy. “Hey, Buck buck,” the American yelled and jumped up to introduce him to the other members and the sirdar who spoke some English. “This is Dorje, the Sherpa I told you about.”

Dorje bowed and welcomed them to his village; then he spoke of the many trips he’d made to Everest. Seemingly impressed by his fluency and Marty’s recommendation, the sirdar hired him to carry from Base Camp to the Western Cwm and also asked him to locate some local yaks to carry from Namche to Base Camp.

“Hurray! Give me five,” Marty whooped and slapped Dorje’s hand. Obviously he didn’t consider this Sherpa porter a threat in his pursuit of Beth.

Insulted for the second time that morning, Dorje challenged him to a hand jive contest. Starting slowly, he slapped his knees on one and two, clapped both hands on three and four, and quickly completed the entire sixteen-count routine without missing a beat.

“You’ve been practicing,” Marty said, his voice rising and tufted eyebrows twitching.

“And can do it faster than you.”

Amused by their competition, the other climbers joined in along with a few daring porters. Dorje slapped his knees, thumped his fists, bumped his elbows, hands flying, body wiggling, giggling out of control, faster and faster, too quick for anyone to keep up—not even Marty. “Aha!” he shouted gleefully when they were all a beat or two behind, slapping when they should have been clapping. Knowing Beth was watching, he gave Marty a final high five, turned, and walked away.
No threat, no competition? We’ll see.

He waited for the cover of darkness to steal into Beth’s tent that night. “You were incredible at hand jive,” she whispered, “just like the first time I saw you. But where were you? I thought you’d never get here.”