“Read it somewhere?” Spencer asked his son.
“Yes, it’s surprising.”
“What is?”
“Such a mountain was conquered in winter only a few years ago,” David was sincerely surprised.
“Hmm,” Spencer smiled, sensing that his son was interested in the history of mountaineering. “Yes. I thought you knew about that. I definitely told you. The irony is,” Spencer rubbed his smooth chin, “that the first time Kanchenjunga was climbed by two Englishmen was in the fifties. George Band and Joe Brown, that was their names. And old Joe was from here, from Manchester.”
David smiled. Spencer couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the guy, and thought he was surprised by the coincidence around this very Mount Kanchenjunga, which stands right between Nepal and India. In fact, David felt his doubts disappeared and he was ready to go straight to this mountain to see it for himself. After dinner, he plotted an itinerary and bought a ticket to Delhi.
Spencer tried to explain to his son about the dangers of travel and Indian transport, but when he saw that the ticket had been bought, he simply took out his backpack, which was already covered with dust, and began to dump all the necessary things into it. Joan made a list of things to buy, and Spencer took the day off work to go shopping together. The list was huge, but Spencer circled a few things, emphasizing their importance. Thermal underwear, tent, sleeping bag, water filter…
“Promise me you won’t climb the mountain itself,” Spencer said desperately, right in the middle of the store the day before David left.
“Dad, I just want to see that mountain,” David replied calmly.
Joan stroked Spencer on the back and kept saying “Like father, like son”.
It seemed to David that from that conversation at dinner with his father, to this moment, as he sat here in the plane that would take him to Bagdogra, only a second had passed. And that whole second, from the beginning to this very moment, he was smiling. Smiling at himself and everything that was going on around him.
A voice on the speakerphone said “Dear ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts…” David closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
“Step first, then destination,” Joan’s advice rolled around in his head.
Jean-Pierre woke up at 4 a.m. There was no need to get up, but he could not bring himself to sleep any further. He got up, took a shower, and went for a run around the 20th arrondissement. He walked out of the house where he and his wife had rented an apartment and felt the cold air begin to tingle his face. He thought of Audrey. She, like Jean-Pierre, was from Rouen, but they had moved to Paris for work. She did not like Paris, but she liked how happy her husband was when he left for work in the morning and how tiredly satisfied he was in the evening. Audrey felt impenetrable protection and confidence around Jean-Pierre, and she didn’t care what city they lived in.