Conquering Everest

by fhmefsnvdsmdvv

Taro's thoughts on his father's death.

This has been floating around my computer for a while, and I decided to finally post it.

I watched for the first few seconds of the car flipping with a strange sort of terrified fascination. Then it hit me. My father was in that car. Suddenly, I felt paralyzed. What would I find in the car when I got there? Would there be anything recognizable at all? Those were the thoughts and feelings that raced through my brain the first few seconds, as I watched my dad's car flip. But only for the first few seconds.

Now I was racing, what I was racing, I didn't know. It felt like time itself was trying to pull my feet down. Later I would look back and realize I had never run quite that fast before, and never did again. But at that moment, it seemed horribly slow. Normally, I would also have more sense then to run onto a race-track with cars still on it. As it was, I got across faster then I thought I would. Almost before the car actually hit the ground. Then I slowed. Again the question of what I would find haunted me. "Come on Taro," I said to myself, "You've done this before." But something in my head told me it would be different this time, it mocked my hopeful thoughts. I had done this before, and with my dad, too. Always the same mixture of fear, disgust at being afraid, and hesitation to see what had actually happened. The other two times he came out with hardly more than a scratch.

"I got lucky this time, Champ," he would say cheerfully, after seeing my face. Champ. My nickname since I was old enough to appreciate competition. That was when I started competing, and winning. My nickname since kindergarten. Then I would help Dad out of his car and, usually, we would laugh about his mistake with Tama and Ty the next time we got home.

The thought of Tama and Ty sent a raw feeling of homesickness through my body. I laid in my sleeping bag for a few more minutes. Why did I have to remember Dad's accident whenever I felt afraid. "Afraid," I thought again. Yes, I, Taro Kitano, was afraid sometimes. Not afraid of dying, or pain. So what was I afraid of?

Maybe I was afraid of pain, but not physical pain, I could deal with that. I was afraid of the kind of pain that starts in your heart, then takes over your body, your thoughts. The kind of pain that people bring, whether it was their fault or not. People like Dad.

Dad. I wish he was here now. I glanced at my watch. Four O'clock. Four hours until my stunt. In about an hour, people would be arriving, to see whether I would survive or not. I wonder what they would feel like if I didn't? I mentally forbid my brain to go back to that thought again. But as soon as I did, it turned back to the one thing I couldn't forbid myself from thinking about, but I desperately wanted to forget. Or did I? No, I didn't want to forget. I wanted it not to hurt anymore. I wanted to remember the way I could remember my Mom. The remembering without the pain. I sighed and my mind went back to that day.

The rest of my dad's pit crew was yelling at me to come back. Most of them saw themselves as 'second fathers' and what was in the car might not be 'fit for young eyes.' That is, if the car wasn't going to explode. Then I guess it wouldn't matter what I saw. I ignored them, and bent down to look inside of what was left of the 'cockpit,' as some of my dad's former air-force buddies jokingly dubbed it. What was in there made me feel sick. It didn't look like Dad. It closer resembled a zombie out of a horror movie. I was sure he was dead. And yet, something inside hoped against it. Suddenly he groaned. And then turned his face toward me. He looked terrible. I immediately began to try and lift him out of the wreckage.

"No, Taro!" He demanded. I stopped. The ever obedient perfect son."It's too late Taro," he said gently. I had guessed so. He had major side and head injuries, as well as numerous others that probably weren't even visible.

"Dad. If I get you out, we can get you to the hospital. You have to make it," I said, but inside, I was crying. I knew it was hopeless.

He half-smiled at me, but the pain and effort it took was obvious. "Taro, I just want you to listen for a minute." I nodded numbly. "Taro, you are the best son anyone could wish for. You and your brother and sister are amazing. You're going to do some big things." I nodded again. I didn't trust my voice. "When I'm gone Taro-"

I cut him off there. "Dad you can make it! I... We, can't make it without you. I can get you to the hospital, you can't go. Not yet."

He frowned at me now. "Taro, I thought you were going to listen to me." I bowed my head. I had said that, hadn't I? "I'm not going to make it, Taro. I know that. But I don't want you to... To be too sad." His eyes asked if I understood. I wasn't sure, but I tried to look as if I did. It probably didn't make a difference, he could read me like a book. Fortunately for me, he was one of only a few people who could. "Taro," he said again. "I know this is going to be a heavy burden. To ask a seventeen year old to manage a family is... Huge."

"I can do it!" I said, perhaps a little hotly. I hated being told I couldn't do things.

He smiled again, "I know Taro, otherwise I wouldn't ask you to. Take care of Tama and Ty. Taro, look at me."

"Yes Dad?"

"Keep trying for Everest." I nodded again.

He smiled with only his eyes, looking satisfied. Then he was gone. By now it was chaos around me. I backed away from the car slowly, my vision clouded by some sort of water in my eyes. For a minute I had no idea what it was, and when I realized what, I almost laughed at myself. "Tears, doofus," I thought. I couldn't remember actually crying. Not that I had had a perfect life, I had watched my Mom slowly waste away from cancer when I was eight, but it wasn't so sudden, so tragic. When she passed away, it was slow, expected. Not that I wasn't sad. I had just cried inside, the tears had just never made it past my own thoughts. What would my siblings and I do now? No Mom, no Dad. Orphans. I shivered, and it wasn't the crisp autumn air either.

I was jerked out of my flashback by radio static. "Taro, come in Taro." said the fizzy voice. I slowly stretched and yawned. Then pulled the helmet with built-in radio closer so I wouldn't have to get out of my sleeping bag into the below freezing weather.

"It's five in the morning, Mike." I growled into it. "Do you know how cold it is up here?"

"Hey!" Mike said, "Skiing down Everest solo wasn't my idea!" I rolled my eyes, like he could even see it. "You ready for your stunt, Taro?"

"Mike. I have three more hours to get ready. I'm not even up yet."

"Well! Get up!" He said, cheerfully. "You need to start climbing."

Sometimes I wish my hard looks went through the radio. He was probably happy to catch me sleeping in. I'm usually the early bird, but the way I saw it, before skiing down the tallest mountain in the world, you needed to get some rest. I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag, "I'm up."

"Good!" Said Mike, "I'll check up on you in about two hours."

"Sure," I agreed.

Sometimes I wondered why me and Mike got along as well as we did. For one, Mike was older than me, not a lot older, but still older. Usually, this would be huge thing in the way of our friendship. I wanted to do things my own way, but older guys usually thought that I either had no idea what I was doing, or wanted to prove their way was better. It got on my nerves either way, and, normally, it was mutual. Mike acknowledged me as leader, even though technically, we were even partners. This agreed with me nicely, and seemingly with him as well.

We were also complete opposites in almost every sense of the word. He was a joker by nature, out-going, and only serious if the situation called for it. I was intense, serious, quiet, and my dad had often said that I acted older than him sometimes. Maybe the reason we get along well is because he accepts that I'm Taro, and I accept that he's Mike. We don't try to change each others character, partly because we both know it's hopeless.

When I say I'm serious, I mean most of the time. I can play the joker if I want to, but I had a little brother for that most of the time. "Until I left," I reminded myself, guiltily. I hadn't wanted to leave, but at the time, it seemed the only option. After Dad died, something inside me went berserk. I began my slow ascent up the mountain side.

After I backed away from the car, I walked quickly, still crying, to the hotel room Dad and I shared. I wanted to be left alone, and if I stayed near the wreck, there would be reporters. Fans. People. I couldn't deal with people right now. I had a hard time dealing with them on normal terms. When I got to my room, I threw myself on the bed. Then I really cried. I guess I must have drifted off after that. I was awakened by a knock on the door. I jerked up. "Who is it?" I asked, maybe a little sharply.

"Jeff," was the reply. Jeff was one of my dad's best friends, Dad had known him for a long time, even before he had met Mom. I walked numbly over to the door and let him in. He looked at me. A sympathetic look. He put his hand on my shoulder. I coiled inside, but didn't shake it off. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know how you feel."

What made him think that? He couldn't know how I feel. He wasn't me. Even Tama and Ty couldn't know how I felt. Yes, they could be as sad, but we were different people. We dealt with situations differently. My thoughts were interrupted by Jeff, "I'll drive you home tomorrow" He said.

"I can drive myself," I answered, perhaps a little too loudly.

"Did you happen to bring your car?" Jeff asked, quietly. Of course I hadn't, Dad had driven both of us up here. We weren't planning on being here more than a two days. It was a little race, the only reason Dad was even invited was to get them some publicity. Well, I guess they got their publicity. I could imagine the headlines now. Tama and Ty would- I stopped there.

"Tama and Ty? Do they know?" I blurted out.

Jeff nodded, "they were told shortly after." Then he stood up, "Get some sleep, Taro. Tomorrow is another day." I didn't get much sleep.

The next morning, I packed up, then sat on my bed, waiting for Jeff. The intense sorrow of yesterday had slowly given way to anger. Anger at the world for being so unfair. Anger at people for being so uncaring. Anger at myself, surely I could have done something different. Anger at everything. Why was it Dad, who had three kids, two not even in high-school? Why not someone with no kids? Or even someone with kids who had a Mom, too? I quickly shook off the selfish thoughts as I heard a knock on the door. Jeff. Soon I'd be home, to listen to a bunch of people telling me how sorry they were, how they wished it could have been different. I let Jeff in. "All packed?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" I echoed. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

"I have muffins in the car," Jeff said.

"I'm not really hungry," I muttered, as I followed him down the stairs. He looked at me again, and decided not to question that. Good, I may have blown up in his face if he had.

Finally, I was up. I pulled my mind away from the memories and walked to the edge of the gargantuan mountain. The view was beautiful, and the rest of the Himalayas seemed puny next to Everest, though none of them were small, even by my standards. I checked to make sure all my ski equipment was in order for the hundredth time, and then ate my breakfast. After I finished, I reviewed my route, even if there wasn't any need for it, and then walked briskly around. The waiting was terrible, at this point, I wanted to strap on the skis and get it over with. Then the radio came to life. "Taro, come in Taro."

I picked up the helmet, "yes, Mike?"

"One hour, Champ, you ready?"

"The anticipation is terrible, I'm tempted to come down now."

"Hey, just an hour, and the publicity will be great!"

"And since when have I been a fan of publicity?"

"Well, if not publicity for you, publicity for your overwhelmingly awesome, under-appreciated partner."

I snorted, and imagined his grin as he said that. "Well, overwhelmingly awesome, under-appreciated partner, why don't you make sure that some hot chocolate is ready for me when I get down."

"Will do, anything else you need?"

"Not that comes to mind."

"Okay then, now can I ask you for a favor?"

"Go ahead, I couldn't stop you anyway."

"You could kill the radio."

"Why haven't I thought of that? Remind me next time."

"Ha. You know as well as I do that if you wanted to make me be quiet, you would have already thought of killing it."

"What did you want, Mike?"

"And now you are trying to avoid admitting that you really like hearing me talk... Anyhow, I was going to ask for a simple thank you."

"Thank you."

"Ah, I should have recorded that. Okay, I'll let you go. I'll check up on you again right before it's time. Oh, yea, leave the helmet on, will you?"

"Sounds good," again I was left alone with my thoughts.

On the car trip home, I made a point of ignoring Jeff, if he noticed, he did a good job of not letting me know. Finally, he broke the silence. "Are you sure you don't want to eat?"

"Yes."

"Taro, you shouldn't starve yourself for your dad."

"I am not starving myself, I'm just not hungry," I still didn't turn away from the window.

"I understand, Taro, but you shouldn't take your father's death out on yourself."

My temper flared, "I am not taking it out on myself, and I really do not want to talk about it, okay?"

Jeff shook his head, "Taro, you're going to have to let go of it someday."

"Are you telling me I should forget?" Now I was almost yelling, my eyes blazing.

"No, Taro. You'll never forget, I'll never forget. But you should try to remember how he was before his death." When I didn't answer, he went on, "Taro, your father trusted me, why don't you give me a chance?"

I turned to gaze on him again for a minute, but he had his eyes on the road. Then I turned back around, "I don't trust anybody." But the statement was muttered in a way that was inaudible to Jeff. To anybody. The rest of the trip was spent in silence.

When we got home, I refused to speak to anyone and stayed in my room for days. I only came out for the funeral. After the funeral, I still didn't want to talk to anyone, but I did eat. After Tama and Ty started to get over it, they once again tried to be the little brother and sister. I ignored them, or glared. Ty took the hint, but Tama was always headstrong. One day I lost my temper with her. After catching myself, I was horrified. If had hurt either of my siblings, I would have never forgiven myself. That night, me and Mr. Smith, our farmhand and one of our family's best friends, got in a word fight. It had been something silly, but that was the last straw. I left that night.

Again the radio broke up my reminiscence. "Taro, are you going to talk to me?" Came Mike's voice. Had it really been that long?

"Yes," I answered my 'overwhelming awesome' partner.

"Great! You've got five minutes, let's get this show on the road! I'm gonna start the sales pitch, you get your skis strapped on. You sure you know the routes?"

"Okay, okay, and yes."

"Awesome! Be careful, Champ."

"Understood," I replied, a little wryly.

"If you aren't down by nightfall, we'll get the search team out there. Keep your journal somewhere safe, the news team will want to read it."

"Sure."

"Always a man of few words. Okay, I'm going to go. Have fun."

"Thanks," after making sure everything was as it should be for what seemed like the millionth time, I walked back to edge and looked down, breathing deeply. The view was gorgeous, and it made me wonder what a puny human was doing trying to defeat this huge mass of snow and ice. I brought my thoughts back to the present task and looked at my watch. Two minutes. I was ready for this. I had been dreaming of this day my entire life. One minute. I took a few more deep breaths and prepared for the moment. It was time. I took off, my whole body ready for it.

I was conquering Everest.

That's it. Reviews would be appreciated. :)