“Yes, sir,” Blake said, slowing down so that Mattie could follow her father.
Ian took a deep, melodramatic breath. “I don’t know, but I’ve been told!” he shouted, trying to sound and move like a drill sergeant.
“I don’t know, but I’ve been told!”
“That my jokes are getting old!”
“That my jokes are getting old!”
“My little Mattie, she tells me these things!”
“My little Mattie, she tells me these things!”
“She pulls me along with rubber strings!”
“She pulls me along with rubber strings!”
“Did you hear she likes Leslie’s hair?”
“Did you hear she likes Leslie’s hair?”
“One day they may have to share!”
“One day they may have to share!”
“Now someone take over this song!”
“Now someone take over this song!”
“My tired lungs are none too strong!”
“My tired lungs are none too strong!”
Still longing to hear Mattie laugh, Ian pretended that no strength remained in him. Gasping for air, he stumbled, spun around, grabbed at her, and collapsed to the trail. Mattie giggled, falling on top of him, instantly reminding him why he continued onward, when so much of him longed to close his eyes and rest forever. He hugged her tight, tickling her sides—her laughter an answer to his prayers, a constellation in the dark of his mind. Soon he laughed with her, rolling in the dirt, his pains forgotten. His little girl was begging him to stop, laughing so hard that she could barely speak, and few sounds had ever filled him with such joy.
THE DINING AREA OF THEIR HOTEL LOOKED to have been built more than a century earlier. The walls and floor were composed of crudely cut stones that had been cemented together. The once white but now smoke-stained ceiling was supported by thick beams that ran from one end of the room to the other. In the far corner, an immense stone hearth sheltered a fire that filled the room with warmth and light. A battered wooden table occupied the center of the area, holding candles, as well as Ian and Mattie’s dinners. The two travelers were the only guests of the restaurant. Leslie, Blake, and Tiffany had opted for another hotel across the street, as a room there cost two dollars a night instead of the four that Ian had paid.
Mattie eyed the food in front of her, unsure what to think of it. She’d ordered dal bhat, one of the most popular dishes in Nepal. The meal consisted of steamed rice and a spicy soup fashioned from lentils, onions, chilies, tomatoes, ginger, coriander, and turmeric. She’d debated asking for pizza, which was on the menu, but her father had promised that the local food would be better than anything Western. The pizza, he was sure, would be little more than spaghetti sauce and yak cheese poured over flatbread.
“How far are we going tomorrow?” she asked, eating a spoonful of the soup, wishing that she’d ordered the pizza.
Ian sipped from a scratched bottle of mineral water. “A bit farther than we hiked today, I reckon. We’ll head higher too.”
“How much higher?”
“Oh, it should only be a few hops for you, Roo. A thousand feet up, so the guidebook says.”
Mattie had managed to finish about half of her dal bhat when the hotel’s proprietor—a woman who looked a decade older than she was—carried two pots to the table and scooped more rice and soup into their bowls. “You big girl,” the woman said, her English as rough as the walls of her restaurant. “Must eat more to walk higher.”
“Thank you.”
The woman, who was dressed in brightly colored robes and wore her hair in a bun, smiled. “I have girl like you. Three girl. But now they old. Now they have babies. So many babies.”
“How many?”
Their proprietor’s smile revealed several missing teeth. “Fifteen,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Before, I help daughters. But one day, my husband go into mountains to get wood. Big avalanche that day. Husband no come home. So I work alone in his hotel.”
Mattie nodded, unsure what to say. “Your soup is good. Thank you.”
“In Nepal, we eat dal bhat. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“Really? That much?”
“Dal bhat make you strong.”
“I’m . . . feeling strong.”
The woman smiled again, patting Mattie’s shoulder. “You have more. Then you sleep nice tonight.”
Ian and Mattie finished eating, paid their bill, and returned to their room. The hotel was a rectangular building with the restaurant on one side and six rooms on the other. The stone-walled hallway was clean, its wooden floors polished smooth by the passing of countless feet.