The Mountain

"No, the living come first," Mikhail soften my guilt, "to know how he died is a huge weight lifted. I had nightmares of leaving him to freeze or starve to death."

"I don't think he knew what happened," I added, "I don't think he suffered." The hacked up face returned to my mind again. No, no one lived for more than a second after a trauma like that. Mikhail gave me a fatherly smile.

"Would you return and show me where he's buried?" Mikhail asked. My first thought was absolutely not. I shoved it aside and considered his pain. I knew I wouldn't want to leave my family member to rot on a mountain top. I glanced at Tamara, who was in a deep discussion with Meemaw. I wouldn't leave her, that's for sure.

"Yes," I agreed, "I can do that."

"Good." Mikhail smiled, patting me on my shoulder, "very good." He paused for a moment, "I really should say hello to Tamara. I understand you two are an item."

"Engaged."

"Well, at least something good came of the crash," Mikhail said as I led him to our picnic area.

"Mikhail!" Tamara shouted as we approached. She brought Milena with her smile to meet up with us. It made sense, them knowing each other from the rescue. They traded words, and Mikhail doted over Milena for a few minutes. I was kind of proud of the compliments I only half understood.

"I fear my brother and I were the cause of the accident," Mikhail said in English. His tone never wavered from the pleasant conversation he had with Tamara, so she assumed it was a repeat of what they had discussed.

"Pardon?"

"Nikolay and I work as mediators," Mikhail took a deep breath, "a year ago we had our hands full in Ukraine, talking between the Russian separatists and Euro-centric loyalists. The altimeter failure was sabotage."

"I didn't even know there was a mechanical reason," I admitted. Mikhail tickled Melina; I suspected to keep Tamara unaware of what we were discussing.

"The pilot was yelling at the altimeter when went into the mountain," Mikhail smiled, belying the real conversation, he kept saying 'this isn't 4,000 meters.' I found the cockpit and the altimeter had been misadjusted. I can only say I'm sorry to be the cause." He paused a moment, smiling at Melina, "then again; she is a very beautiful little girl. I am glad something good came from it."

"And you want a trip back to find your brother?" I asked. I imagined all sorts of repeat attempts.

"I don't charter in advance anymore," Mikhail said, "no one knows my full itinerary, not even me. You still willing to go?"

"Yes," I said without thinking. He could have lied to me, so I took his trust and added some of my own. Mikhail changed to Armenian and spoke with Tamara whose face became concerned. She looked at me then back at Mikhail and said yes, nodding with hesitancy.

"I told Tamara what you agreed too and asked her if it was all right," Mikhail said, "I left out the sabotage unless you wish me to tell her."

"No," I said, adding a comfortable smile. I moved closer to Tamara and gave her a kiss on her cheek. I knew she didn't like the idea of me going back to the mountain, but Mikhail saved our lives, and his brother deserved some respect.

It was later that evening when I decided hiding things wasn't a good way to start a marriage. With Ruben's help, I explained my impending trip back to Azerbaijani next week and the cause of the crash to Yana, the brothers, my parents, and a frightened Tamara.

"You not go," Tamara said in simple enough language.

"I have to agree," my mother added, not needing to wait for Ruben. Tamara's face was all the translation she needed.

"I think I have to," I said, "we would have died up there if Mikhail hadn't come back for us. I owe him for Tamara and Melina." Tamara shifted closer to me, not wanting me to go and unable to disagree.

"I go with you," Garik interjected. He had an adamant look about him. I was about to disagree when Yana interrupted. I had to wait for the translation.

"Yana thinks Garik should go with you," Ruben said, "he climbs with a group a few times a year and knows a lot about the mountains." I looked at Garik, who nodded firmly.

"I don't like this," my mother said. There was a mother's apprehension in her eyes. She never liked me traveling around the world and now I was heading back to the crash site. Yana nodded when Ruben translated.

"Men do stupid things for stupid reasons," Yana commented, "at least this stupid thing is for a good reason." I think she was talking about her boys as well as me. She understood a brother wanting his brother back. My mother conceded when Ruben translated. She knew I was going, and she owed me some leeway after the way she treated Tamara.

I stood up and held out my hand to Garik. He rose and shook it. "Thanks," I said, "I could use the help." He wore a proud smile when Ruben translated. I fully understood then that Tamara came with a family. They would risk for me as much as they would risk for each other. I vowed to do the same.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Tamara was a nervous bundle. She had agreed to my going back to the mountain, but was terrified I may not come back. When Melina was finally asleep, I went to work easing her fears. Though we had shared much, I had never ignored my own desires to heighten hers. I put aside my selfish needs and began with loosening the muscles in her shoulders.

Tamara moaned and sunk her body into my manipulations. She tried to turn, but I kept her there, facing away from me as my fingers worked on her shoulders. She whispered something about her fears, but the words broke up as I worked the knots out of her neck. She reached behind her and caressed my thighs as my lips followed my fingers along her neck. Such soft sweet things came from her mouth.

I laid her on her back and, with her mild protests, began to kiss my way down her body. I found that I could cause little tremors with light flicks of my tongue. She only tried once to lift me into position to join with her, then gave up in a giggle when I found her belly button.

The smell of a woman in desire is intoxicating. Years of evolution had honed the scent into a bouquet that took my breath away. I forced myself to slow and tease the inside of her thighs with light kisses. When Tamara sensed my intentions, I heard her whisper something. I glanced up into frightened eyes. I smiled and she lay her head back down, unsure of what was about to happen.

I made love to her with my lips. After a swift intake of breath, Tamara's moans defied her initial fears, and I felt her muscles surrender to me. I loved how I could make her squirm. Her body reacted in the most wondrous ways. I had no idea what she whispered between her gasps, but I took it as encouragement, so pleased when her hands combed through my hair as I sought her pleasure.

"Jonathan," she almost yelled. Her back arched and I felt her body let loose, shaking as I lovingly teased her most precious flower. I continued as her body collapsed, her hands caressing my head. Suddenly she began laughing, pushing me away. I relented as she now found me more ticklish than arousing.

"What you do to me?" Tamara smiled, pulling me up her body. I could see the joy in her eyes. She was weaker and stronger all at the same time. I was weirdly proud of myself. A man who had just fully conquered a woman. She rolled me over with laughter in her eyes and straddled me. It took her no time to conquer me.

"You come back to me," Tamara ordered as she rested in my arms.

"Yes, my love," I responded. I could still feel her apprehension, but I had dulled it a bit.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Mikhail organized the whole trip. He booked flights and then canceled them when we arrived at the airport. He then hired a new charter on the spot. His carefulness reassured Garik and I. Garik brought a backpack full of climbing gear just in case. He made me carry an additional length of rope that I hope we wouldn't need.

We couldn't delay the trip since winter came early to the mountains. A blizzard would be deadly though we had enough gear to survive it if necessary. It was four days after the picnic when we flew over my first home with Tamara. I couldn't see the hovel, but our makeshift flag was shredded and tangled in the tree it had been tied to. Tamara's signal was still ingenious.

We set down about a mile east, the only clearing on the ridge large enough for a helicopter. The pilot was skilled, somehow putting down on the gradual slope without issue. He stayed with the helicopter as Mikhail, Garik and myself hiked back to the campsite carrying the stretcher to bring home Mikhail's brother.

The hovel was surprisingly intact. I smiled at its construction. The inside had obviously been invaded by storms, but the outer shell was still solid, and I suspected, would still block a good portion of the wind. I crawled inside, looking at what was left of our first home. I could see that Tamara had left everything when she was winched up to the rescue helicopter. I found only one thing worth taking back with me. A little humor for my return.

Nikolay was exactly where I had left him. There didn't seem to be any animals besides birds on the ridge, nothing large enough to disturb his remains. Unfortunately, decomposition wasn't so lenient. Through Mikhail's tears, we pulled Nikolay from under the tree. I held my breath as we worked, not wanting to breathe in what looked horrible to the eyes. Both Garik and I had to walk off in the middle of it. I lost my breakfast. I assumed Garik experienced the same.

Mikhail had assumed the worst and brought a black body bag with him. I was glad for his forethought. The task became infinitely easier when we zipped Nikolay inside. We took turns carrying the stretcher though Mikhail's age limited the time he could help. It took over an hour to get back to the helicopter and load Nikolay on board.

Our supplies were, thankfully, unneeded as we took a day and a half to return to Armenia. Garik was amazingly unfrazzled traveling in foreign countries. He seemed to relish the adventure, minus the dead body. I was impressed with his confidence.

Mikhail left us at the Yerevan airport as he took off to Russia to bury his brother. His thanks were almost embarrassing, not to mention his constant apologizing for being the cause of the crash. I accepted his card and a promise that if I should ever need him, I would call.

I walked into the terminal and happiness stood before me. Tamara had an honest smile of relief as I moved into her arms as quickly as customs would allow. She put me in a death grip and tried to break some ribs. Her lips made up for her over enthusiasm. Just as wonderful as I remembered. Traveling was holding less and less appeal for me.

Garik got a kiss on the cheek for bringing me home safely. He looked at me with a knowing smile. Yes, for a brief moment, Tamara had forgotten that he was home safely as well. Yana and my mother were waiting with Melina in one of the many rows of chairs downstairs from the boarding ramps. Melina seemed pleased with my hugs and kisses. I loved how my daughter smiled.

++++++++++++++++++++++

It was late when Tamara and I returned to the hotel. We needed more permanent housing, but for now, the hotel allowed us to be alone together. No other family interfering. We swam with Melina until her eyes drooped. She was asleep when her head hit the mattress.

"Home still there," I told Tamara in Armenian, adding a sly smile.

"On mountain," Tamara clarified. I nodded.

"Found something," I said as I took my shoes off. She waited for me to continue, which I did not. Finally, curiosity got the better of her.

"What?"

I went to my suitcase and wadded the item in my hand, hiding it as best I could. I then walked back to the bed and sat down.

"Nothing," I said like a jerk. My smile was frozen on my face. Tamara put her hands on her hips and gave me the look only a mother could make. It was weakened by her own smile.

"Give," Tamara said, holding out her hand. I could tell she was both intrigued and frustrated with my teasing. I laughed as I opened my hand, letting a pair of yellow panties with images of strangely posed ducks, hang from my fingers. Tamara's eyes went wide and she tried to snatch them away.

I laughed as I quickly moved them to the other hand and stood away from her. The panties were a little faded for being exposed to the elements for a year. I had washed them up in Azerbaijani and found them still cute as hell.

"Give," Tamara said, both laughing and demanding. I think I saw color entering her cheeks. A little embarrassment at owning such childish things. She had no idea how sexy the thought of them on her was. Sort of reliving the mountain in my mind. I held them up, just out of her reach, but she tried for them anyway. I spent the next few moments playing keep away.

Eventually, Tamara promised me kisses for their safe return. I relented, handing over the panties and leaned in for my reward. She flicked my nose with her finger and ran to the bathroom laughing like a schoolgirl. Touché. I broke down laughing at how she suckered me in.

It took a few minutes of begging to get Tamara out of the bathroom. A lot of apologizing and promising not to tease her again. She laughed a lot of it off before the door finally opened. My mouth fell open. A goddess dressed in nothing but cute ducky panties emerged. There was no hesitancy in how she moved. She knew exactly what they did to me and used it to her full advantage. The night was my personal vision of what heaven should be.

++++++++++++++++++++++

The wedding was a month away and I needed to protect my income. I called Doug Finley and he was ecstatic I called. The business was chugging along but he preferred a fast clip.

"I still have the Peruvian deal in the works," Doug said. I could almost see the smile on his face. "If you could close that, we would be flush for the year, maybe two years."

"I figured you'd have that done by now," I said.

"Nope," Doug sighed, "they aren't that trusting. The want to shake a human hand and have things signed in front of them. You know me - I don't do the third world."

"Wimp," I joked.

"It was always where you shined," Doug complimented. I like how he said it. It's good to know you're wanted. "I bet you can knock it out in a day or two."

"Okay," I added, "I have two more mouths to feed now, so book the flights."

"We're rolling again," Doug yelled into the phone, "damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead." His excitement was contagious. I liked my work again.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Tamara took the trip in stride. Melina needed to be provided for. My agreement with Doug had profits distributed by time worked. I still received a token amount when I wasn't working, but that was trivial to a full share. My savings wouldn't last forever. It was time the father emerged out of his love-induced vacation and provided for his family.

Tamara spent the next two nights making sure I knew why I wanted to return home. It was totally unnecessary, but I didn't let her know that. I enjoyed being convinced of something I was already sure of.

My parents had already returned to Chicago. I moved Tamara and Melina back in with Meemaw. I gave Tamara a budget and asked her if she could find a home for us.

"Armenia?" She asked, her smile spreading across her face.

"Yes," I said. My job meant travel and home base's location really wasn't overly important. There was no reason to haul her to Chicago when I was already getting used to Yerevan. Meemaw's eyes lit up during the discussion.

"You stay in Yerevan?" Meemaw asked Tamara.

"Yes," Tamara said loudly as she jumped into my arms. I hadn't realized how much it meant to her. She was willing to go to America, but only for me.

"You good man," Meemaw said with the first honest smile she gave me. That's why she held me at a distance. She was afraid I was taking her granddaughter and great-granddaughter away from her. Tamara hugged me hard. You would have thought I had given her the world. In a sense, I guess I unknowingly did.

Meemaw actually gave me a hug when I left for the airport along with wishes for a safe trip.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Jorge Chávez International Airport was like every other airport in the world. If you closed your ears to the Spanish, you could be in any large airport of any major city. I moved slowly across the terminal carrying my one bag. I had a five hour wait before my last jump, a small prop plane. I knew I had to get back on that horse.

I caught a quick meal at an airport diner. Everything had pictures and numbers which was helpful for my weak Spanish. I have always been afraid of local cuisine in airports. I stuck with a burger and fries thinking no culture can screw up Americana worse than what I have forced down in America itself.

I moved to the waiting room for SeePeru, a small local firm that specialized in small haul trips. They had a manned counter and logo, so they seemed more professional than many companies I had used in the past. I verified my trip with a pleasant young woman who spoke a smattering of English that softened my weak Spanish.

I sat in the first row of three empty rows of chairs and retrieved a book I had been reading on and off since my rehab ended. I had a hundred pages to go, so it looked like I would finally kill it this trip. I thought about how Tamara had chewed into my reading time. I regretted none of the loss. Tamara was a lot warmer than a book, and Melina was more fun. I chuckled to myself, which made the young attendant give me a strange look. I just smiled and opened my book.

"Are you flying to Ayacucho as well?" a well dress man said as he sat next to me, leaving a single empty chair between us. His appearance was perfect. Casual well tailored suit with perfect hair that looked like it wouldn't move in storm. His moustache sat proudly on his lip, well groomed like the rest of him.

"Yes," I replied, wondering how he knew to start in English.

"Then we will share the plane," he said cheerfully. His South American accent gave his words an attractive flair. I suspected he was U.S. educated by the confidence in his English. I lowered my book and decided to talk since that is what he intended.

"Jonathan Bennett," I said, holding out my hand.

"Emilio Campos," he said, taking my hand and shaking it with more strength than necessary. Two more gentlemen in suits sat down in the rows. One behind Emilio and the other a few chairs farther down the row. "Ignore them," Emilio smiled, "they are my shadows." My interest in him increased immediately.

"I'm trying to close an import deal," I said, turning my body toward him. You never know when you'll meet someone important in small countries, someone who can help grease the wheels of commerce. "handmade pottery for the American market."

"Really," Emilio said brightly, "you purchase other things besides pottery?"

"We have a unique clientele," I said as warm as possible, "mostly functional art items. The history of the art is as important as the quality of the item itself. I guess they are best described as unique conversation pieces. Things you can't find in Walmart."

"Intriguing," Emilio commented. He thought for a moment, looking into space. "You wouldn't have interest in small metal sculptures. Not really functional, but they are unique and handmade."

"You have any pictures?" I asked. I smiled when he reached into his suit jacket and retrieved his phone. It took a few moments as he cycled through a few photos until he found what he was looking for.

"He has better pieces, but here are some of them," Emilio qualified as he handed me his phone. I went through a few pictures of shiny sculptures that looked pretty far out there. The last picture was a metal horse. It was beautiful and highly sellable if it had a history.