and a purple T-shirt with a smiley face on it. Her hair was in long, fairly tight braids, a product of his determination. She appeared to move without pain, which delighted him. “You know, Roo,” he said, “I don’t fancy fighting with you.”
Mattie’s walking stick paused in midflight. “I know, Daddy.”
“And when we do fight, I’m not trying to pester you. I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”
“This trip is best for me.”
“Why? Why do you say that? What if one of us gets hurt or sick?”
“Like Mommy?”
“That’s right. Like Mommy.”
“But that won’t happen. You promised me that would never happen again.”
Ian glanced to their right, toward a waterfall that dropped from a crevice between distant rises. “Sorry, luv. You’re as right as rain. That won’t happen to either of us, just like I promised. But still, I reckon it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
“I am careful.”
“I know.”
“So let’s not talk about it, okay?”
He sighed and moved ahead. Pointing to the waterfall, he said, “There’s a real beaut. Care to stop and sketch it?”
“No.”
They continued forward in silence. Ian glanced ahead, knowing that if the day remained clear, they would soon be rewarded with a view of Everest. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, adjusting his traveling hat to shield his eyes from the sun.
“What?”
“Actually, two surprises.”
She nudged him with her walking stick. “What, Daddy?”
“Just wait until we get to the top.”
The trail, bordered by stalks of wild marijuana, twisted to the left, approaching a vertical section of a mountain that had stairs etched into it. The stone steps, of which there were several hundred, led to a crevice in the mountain. At the base of the steps stood a Nepalese girl about Mattie’s age who wore a tattered blue dress. She carried an immense bundle of firewood on her back. A thick strip of canvas encircled the firewood and hung from her forehead. The girl had her hands on the canvas near her forehead, keeping it in place. She leaned against a large boulder near the bottom of the stairs, glancing up the mountain, and then at Ian and Mattie.
“Namaste,” Ian said to the girl, placing his hands together and bowing slightly.
She smiled. “Namaste.”
Mattie studied the girl, noticing how dirty and ragged her clothes were. Her dark hair was matted, long, and disheveled. “Hello,” Mattie said, embarrassed to be carrying almost nothing and to be dressed in such clean clothes.
“Hewwo,” the girl replied, still smiling, still holding the canvas strap in place against her sweating brow.
“Daddy,” Mattie asked, “could you carry that for her? I don’t think she’ll make it up all these steps.”
Ian was glad to hear the request. Though his own pack wasn’t light, he felt that he could also carry the firewood. “Reckon I can take that from you?” he asked the girl, gesturing toward the wood. “I’ll carry it to the top of these steps and then you can take over.”
The girl’s brow furrowed. “No understand. No speak English.”
“May I take your wood? I’ll put your strap around my forehead, like you’ve done. And I’ll carry it up these steps.”
Mattie saw that the girl was still confused. Stepping closer to the stranger, Mattie pretended to take the wood and put it on her father’s back, on top of his large backpack. “He will carry it up for you,” she said slowly.
The girl nodded, her eyes widening. Mattie saw that her knees trembled, probably from the weight of the firewood. Not wanting to waste any more time, Mattie helped the girl lift the strap over her head and set the wood on the ground. Mattie was surprised by the weight of the load, which she knew she could never carry. “Can you do this, Daddy?” she asked. “Maybe I could carry your backpack.”
“And if your leg was in proper shape, I’d let you try. But no worries, luv. Just help me get that strap up on my thick head.”
Ian dropped to his knees, and Mattie and the girl lifted the bundle of firewood, setting it atop his backpack. The girl took the strap and placed it over his forehead, so that his neck would carry the load, as hers had.
“Be careful, Daddy,” Mattie said as he stood up. She did her best to help him lift the firewood, as did the girl.
“Holy dooley, that’s heavy,” Ian said, straining beneath the weight. He held the canvas strip in place against his forehead, clenching his teeth from the pressure put on his neck. Leaning forward,