The Ascent

he thought they needed the puja, too. That was some kind of ritual. Abe had never

seen one.

'He's right,' Carlos said. 'We've been running on empty ever since we got here. We

should never have left Base without a puja.'

Immediately Jorgens went on the attack. His exasperation was tinged with the

weariness of a schoolmaster at the end of a very long semester. 'There are sensitive

issues here, people. I keep telling you, when in Rome we have to do as the...'

'This is Tibet,' Carlos overrode him. 'And this is Everest. And we need a puja. You go

climbing in these hills without a puja, you're asking for trouble. We're damn lucky to

have a monk who can do one.'

'A tulku,' J.J. added.

Jorgens weighed the vote with a quick scan. 'Fine, have your ritual,' he said. 'But

keep it up here at ABC. I don't want word one of this getting down to Li. It's one thing

for Li to think we're hosting a dumb, hurt yakherder. I don't want to test him on a

monk. Li's got his rules. Got it? Silence on the monk. Silence on the puja.'

Abe found it touching and a little childlike that hardcore mountaineers could be in

such a state over a good luck ceremony. He figured they couldn't really take this puja

business seriously. But when he looked around, there was satisfaction on people's

faces, a quiet relief that had been missing since their arrival. Even Gus seemed more

at ease.

The climbers disbanded and crunched off through the limestone rubble to their

tents, leaving Abe behind with Nima and the boy. Overhead the North Face burned

with a tea rose alpenglow.

'One more thing, Nima. Tell him I want to examine him before he leaves. Let's just

make sure he's good and healed.' In truth it was in the role of a skeptic that Abe

wanted to look the boy over. He couldn't fathom a recovery so complete, especially at

these heights. Maybe tulkus really did have magical powers.

'Okay,' Nima said. 'When, sir? Now?'

Abe hesitated. He was tired. 'Yes, okay,' he decided, 'now.'

On their way to an empty tent, they passed Daniel peeling off his super-gaiters. The

monk slowed his jerky pace for another look and came to a halt. Daniel glanced up,

startled by the boy's quizzical gawk.

'You sure you two haven't met?' Abe asked. 'Maybe on your last expedition.'

'Doubtful. He would have been ten or eleven years old.' Once again Daniel seemed

nonplussed.

'Maybe he saw you on your trek out.' Abe didn't say 'Lepers' Parade.' He'd never

mentioned it before, uncertain how Daniel preferred his history. But what a sight that

must have been to the Himalayan villagers, five monstrously ravaged human beings

straggling down from the outlands, feet and hands frozen black. A sight no young boy

would have easily forgotten.

'Doubtful.' Now, behind Daniel's bemusement, Abe saw the look of a hunted animal.

Daniel was afraid of this boy and his eerie recognition. He was afraid of the past. Abe

shifted the topic.

'I still can't believe he came just to say thanks.' The thought of a boy with nothing

more to do on this desolate plateau than set off into the deep wilds to randomly bless a

bunch of strangers made Abe feel lonely for him.

'I like him,' Daniel said. The boy had lifted Daniel's ice axe and was testing the

point's edge on his thumb. 'He's got real sand. We ought to make him a climber.' With

a sudden sweep of his arm, Daniel seated his black and orange Baltimore Orioles

baseball cap on the monk's head. It was sweat-stained and much too big, but the gift

could have been gold. The boy's eyes widened and he grunted, 'wah.'

'What's his name?'

Abe blinked. He'd never thought to ask. Unconscious, the boy hadn't needed one.

'His name is Wangdu,' Nima said.

Daniel tried it out. 'Wangdu.' Then he asked, 'Where are you guys off to?'

'Final exam,' Abe said. 'I want to give a last look over. You can tag along if you want.'

Daniel pushed against his knees and stood up. His joints crackled and Abe could see

the electric painkiller box bulging on his hip. What a bunch we are, Abe thought, lame

and halt. Mortals beneath our immortal grasping.

The four of them crowded into the empty dome tent. The smell of unwashed

humanity was a given, but another odor was harder to ignore. Abe hadn't noticed it in

the open air.

'Nima, ask him to take off that skin jacket and his shirt.'

When the boy shed his final layer, the tent filled with a terrible stench of rotting

flesh. Abe sat back, stunned.

'He's dead,' Daniel murmured. 'He looks dead.'

He was half right. Under the skins and T-shirt the monk was only half alive. His

various wounds had grown worse, much worse. In the light of day – what light was

left – his bruises had taken on the vile yellow and gangrenous hues of rotten fruit. The

animal bites were leaking a foul sap, and the strange erasertip markings around his

nipples had putrefied.

'It wasn't like this,' Abe said. He placed a bare palm against the boy's suppurating

chest and, through the callouses on his hand and fingers, he could feel the infection hot

and animate. The monk was being consumed alive.

Abe struck back at his own repulsion. He searched for another emotion and found

his anger and started to lash out at Nima. 'I thought Krishna was going to care for him.

I gave instructions, damn it. I told him...'

Nima wasn't even listening, too shocked by what they were all seeing and the foul

odor they were breathing. Abe bit the scolding off. He was the doctor, not Krishna,

and this wasn't Main Street, USA, where modern medicine was a God-given right and

a second language. It was Tibet, on the edge of time. The world was rough and

primordial out here. People died of things like wood splinters and chickenpox and

broken bones and insect bites.

'Tell him to lie down, Nima. Keep him here. I'll be back with some things. Pills and

salve and bandages. I have to clean him. I have to start all over again.'

He turned to exit, but Daniel was blocking the doorway, sullen with disgust and

curiosity. 'Abe, I don't understand this.'

'I don't either. But if we can't handle this infection, you're right, he's dead.'

Abe returned to find Daniel forcing a dialogue that Nima clearly did not want to be

part of. The Sherpa's face was dark and outraged, but so was Daniel's. Everyone

seemed angry but the monk, who had lain back in a nest of soft down bedding.

Daniel turned on Abe. 'You told me he got hurt in a camp accident.'

'I guessed,' Abe said. 'He was unconscious, and no one knew for sure.'

'Oh, they knew.' Daniel bitterly spat, but it wasn't a bitterness aimed at Nima. 'They

just weren't talking.'