Someone Else's Husband(50)

If you could die of embarrassment, I was about to flatline.

“Whoa!” Bakari exclaimed good-naturedly, already on his way to help me. “That was the express way down.” He looked at my feet when he reached me. “Here, step this way. That is not the best place to stand.”

The reddish-brown earth was moving beneath my feet in a swirling pattern. I wondered for a moment if I’d somehow hit my head.

Bakari tugged me forward gently. “Ants,” he said casually as he gestured to the ground.

“What is it?” Richard called out.

“Oh my God.” So many ants it was impossible to believe. Millions. They were the moving earth.

“What’s the matter?” Van said nervously, walking to the edge and peering down.

“Just ants,” Bakari called back casually.

“But a lot of ants!” I added. Bakari’s tone hardly captured the situation. “Way more than you’ve ever seen.”

“Ouch!” Scotty, up at the top of the hill, jumped to the side.

“They bite,” Kito said casually. “The ants. You should shake out your pants. They are up here, too.”

“Oh, man, they’re everywhere!” Van shouted in a panic.

Kito guided the men down to where we were standing. My entire rear end was soaked in mud. I was already strategizing about how I would hang back within the group until it dried.

“Jesus, that is a lot of ants,” Richard said, stepping back nervously.

“Shit, I think they’re way up in my pant legs already!” Brooks howled.

“Mine, too!” Scotty shouted.

“I think they got me also,” Van groaned.

The men danced in circles, helplessly trying to slap away the ants. Yelping. They looked ridiculous.

“Falling down doesn’t seem so bad now,” Bakari said to me, laughing. “Let us go.”

We hiked for five hours the first day. It was far longer and far more tiring than I had expected. Already the altitude had a subtle but noticeable effect, making everything just a little bit more difficult. I pushed harder to compensate, which only compounded my exhaustion. We were constantly shuffling places, but Richard was behind me for most of the afternoon approaching Camp One.

“It’s amazing how you’re handling all this,” he said to me at one point.

“You mean the falling down like an asshole?” I asked. Hours later, my cheeks still felt warm from the whole debacle, and I was ready to pounce on whatever patronizing thing he was about to say next. How you’re handling this—for a woman, for such a novice, for someone like you—wasn’t a great start. I liked Richard, and he was certainly attractive. But I suspected he’d eventually show himself to be like so many other men I’d known: a disappointment.

“No, I mean this whole thing. I never could have come over here alone like you did.”

My irritation was substantial, but unmoored. There was actually nothing irritating about what Richard was saying.

“Oh, yeah, well…”

“I mean it. It’s inspiring. Most people live their whole lives and never even think to try something like this, much less alone. And here you are—doing it.”

My chest was tingling. My whole body was.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe let’s not count our chickens before they’re hatched.”

After that, we hiked in silence for a long time. But the tingling stayed and stayed even through the exhaustion of a day that seemed to go on and on. By the time we were taking a short break before our last push to camp we were all struggling, Van most obviously. To his credit, he persisted without complaint, but he was breathing noticeably harder than the rest of us, a surprise given how fit he obviously was.

“You taking the altitude medication?” Richard asked him when we stopped for a break.

We were grabbing water and snacks, our new routine.

“You worry about yourself” was Van’s response.

“Come on now,” Scotty pressed. “This isn’t one of those naturopath things, is it? I get it—you’ve got a brand to protect but—”

“I’m taking it, I’m taking it,” Van said. But it wasn’t very convincing, even to me.

“I don’t believe you,” Richard said. “It’s all fine and good for you to push vitamins and a vegan lifestyle on people who just need to get off the couch, but this isn’t a game.”

“Oh, leave him be, Richard,” Brooks said. “He’s a grown man who’s twice the athlete any of the rest of us have ever been. He knows his own body.”

“I’m with Richard on this, Van,” Scotty said. “The medication isn’t optional.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Step in line, Scotty,” Brooks said in a deep baritone. “The general has spoken.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Richard laughed, but he looked more confused than amused.

“Come now,” Bakari said firmly. “Onward. Daylight is wasting.”



* * *



—

An hour later we arrived at the first camp. Our tents were already set up, lower and even smaller than I had expected.

We were at 9,255 feet now, 2,500 feet above base camp, 2,000 feet above the point from which we had started hiking that morning after an hour’s drive to the trailhead. Two thousand feet was a very respectable elevation to have covered in a single day, and I’d held my own. More than kept up with the group, in fact. Van was doing better after a little food and rest, but now it was Scotty who was struggling.