Climbing Trail

The Andes Part 5

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"Come on," he whispered, "Come on..."

"We can't climb that mountain" grumbled Numa That night, a gloomy atmosphere surrounding us.

The four people who had climbed were the strongest and healthiest among us, and the mountain had defeated them. I could see into their faces and from the way they looked at each other, the climb let them know: we won't be able to get away from this place, we'll all die.

In fact, I told myself that they were soft, they were afraid, they were so easy to give up. I don't think the mountain is too dangerous.

I'm sure if we choose the right path and time, and don't succumb to the cold and exhaustion, we'll definitely be able to reach the top. I cling to this belief as do those who keep hoping for help.

Do I have any other choice? For me, this

it seems simple but terrible: To survive is obviously impossible. I have to move towards the direction where there is life. I have to head west, to Chile. My mind was filled with doubt and gloom that I was sure of

something I believe is true: Westward is Chile. To the west is Chile. I let those words echo in my head like a mantra. I knew that one day I would climb.

After a few days of the ordeal, I was near Susy more often. I spent all my time with him, rubbing his frozen feet, giving him some water to drink, feeding him with a small piece of chocolate that Marcelo gave him.

I always try to calm and warm him. I was never sure that he was aware of my presence. He was only half conscious. Often he groaned. His eyebrows were always wrinkled with worry and confusion. Sadness radiated from his eyes. Sometimes he prayed, or sang songs before going to bed.

Several times he called my mother. I always

he calmed and whispered in his ear. Every moment with her was precious, even in such a terrible place, the tenderness of her warm breath on my cheek was an incredible peace for me.

As dusk approached on the eighth day, I was lying down with my arms hugging him when I suddenly felt a change in him. Worry faded from his face. The tension disappeared from his body. His breathing began to weaken and slow down, and I felt his life being snatched from my arm, but I could do nothing to stop him. Then his breathing stopped, and he did not move.

"Sushy?" i cried. "Oh, God, Susy, no!"

I knelt down, stretched out his body, and began to give artificial respiration. I didn't even know how to do this, but I tried to save her desperately.

"Come on, Susy, please, I'm crying. Don't leave me!"

I kept doing it until I fell down, exhausted, to the floor. Roberto replaced me, without success. Then Carlitos tried, but in vain. Others gathered around me in silence.

Roberto came closer to me.

"Sorry, Nando he's dead" Roberto whispered. "Guide him tonight. We'll bury him in the morning.''

I nodded and hugged Susy in my arms. Now at last I can hold her with all my might, without fear of hurting her.

hugging him, feeling his body, the smell of his hair, when I felt I had lost, sorrow struck me, and my body was shaken by sobs.

But as sadness covered me, I heard, once again, a cold, disembodied voice whispering in my ear.

Tears are wasting salt.

I lay awake all night with her, my chest heaving with loss, but I did not allow myself to cry.

The next morning, we tied a nylon luggage strap to Susy's body and pulled her out of the plane into the snow. I watched as they dragged him to the cemetery. It's rude to treat Susy that way, but the people here have learned from experience that lifeless bodies feel heavy, it's very difficult to handle it, so I accept it naturally.

We traced Susy's body to a spot in the snow to the left of the plane, where all the dead passengers were buried.

The frozen bodies look very

clearly, their faces were only obstructed by the ice and snow several inches thick.

I stood on top of one of the tombs, and easily saw the faint shape of my mother's blue dress. I dug a shallow grave for Susy next to her.

I laid Susy down and rubbed her hair back. Then I piled it up slowly with grips of crystallized snow, leaving its face open until it was done. He looked very peaceful, like he was sleeping under a thick blanket of lamb fur. I looked at her for the last time, my beautiful sister, and then I slowly sprinkled snow grips around her cheeks until her face sank beneath the sparkling crystals.

After we finished, the others walked back into the plane. I turned around and looked at the slope of the ice river, at the ridge of the mountains that blocked our path westward. I still see a wide trail, a Fairchild trail

it crashed into the snow as it slid down the slope after cutting through the ridges of the mountains. My eyes trace this trail up the mountain to the point where we fell from space into the madness that is now the only reality we know of.

How could this happen? We are

Young men are on their way to a match! Suddenly I was attacked by a sickening void. Since my first time on this mountain, I have spent all my time and energy taking care of Susy. It gave me purpose, diverted me from pain and fear.

Now that I'm completely alone, nothing separates me from the horrors that lock me up. My mother has died. My sister died too. My best friends fell out in a plane crash, or buried here, under the snow.

We were wounded, hungry, and frozen. More than a week has passed, and still the rescuers have not found us. I feel the violent power of these mountains gathering overshadowing me. When I understood how far we were from home, I was drowning in despair, and for the first time I was absolutely certain that I was going to die.

In fact, I am already dead. My life has been taken away. The future I dreamed of would not happen. The woman I'm about to marry will never know me. My children will not be born. I will never again enjoy the eyes of my loving grandmother, nor feel the warm embrace of my sister, Graciela. And I'll never go back to Dad. Dad came back to my mind, suffering, and I felt like he was going through a terrible ordeal

it was long and it almost made me fall to my knees. I held back the anger choked in my esophagus. I felt defeated and trapped so for a while I thought I was going crazy. Then I saw my father in the river in Argentina. He was driven out, defeated, and on the verge of despair. Then I remembered his words, "I won't stop. I decided I'd suffer a little longer."

It was my favorite story, but now I realize it was more than a story: a sign from my father, a wisdom and power given to me.

For a moment I felt he was with me. A terrifying tranquility surrounded me. I looked at the mountains to the west, and imagined a path through it and returned home. I felt love for Dad dragging me like a lifeguard, pulling me through barren slopes.

Staring westward, I silently made a promise to my father. I'm gonna fight. I'm going home. I won't let the bond between us break. I promise you, I won't die here! I'm not gonna die here!

(Connected)