The Mountain

The winds continued as night approached. The sound had diminished due to the snowpack, but we could tell it was deadly out. Tamara became stiff and less amorous, and I thought I might have let my desire go too far. The change was sudden, and it wasn't like she didn't happily participate. I gave her my concerned look, "Is something wrong?" She recognized the expression and nodded with embarrassment. She spoke quietly as if she didn't really want me to hear. It was one of the few things I understood. She needed to pee.

I tried not to smile, but it was hopeless. To me, it was humorous. We were unwashed, had made a sexy mess of our bed, would probably die of exposure, and she was worried about peeing. She smacked my shoulder letting me know she didn't think it was funny. I straightened my lips and kissed her tenderly.

The cooking pot was all we had. Unless we wished to water our bed and freeze to death sooner, the pot would have to serve. I handed it to Tamara, and she shook her head. "We don't have a choice," I said and handed it to her again. She sighed and took it. I knew she was close to losing control of her bladder; I could see it in her face. She got on all fours, thought about it, then signaled for me to turn away. I smiled, held back a chuckle, and turned away. I knew everything about her body, yet she was embarrassed about peeing. Hell, I cleaned her up when she was unconscious.

The sound of her stream hitting the pan and was loud, then softened as it began to fill. I heard her softly complaining, words that I am sure weren't meant for young ears. When the stream stopped, I turned back I saw a pot of pee in her hands and tears in her eyes. I saw no more humor. Peeing in front of me had hurt her. I carefully took the pot and set it near the door. I crawled back to her carrying one of the old man's shirts. I put a hand behind her neck and pulled her shaking lips to mine. At the same time, I wiped her dry between her legs with shirt's sleeve. There was no way I was going to let nature's call come between us. She folded into me, and I felt the embarrassment fade away. She was smiling when I looked again. Such a lovely smile.

I broke the seal and pushed snow away from the upper section of the door. Bitter cold met my arm as I extended the pot out and emptied it. I was sure it would freeze quickly. I pulled my arm back in and closed the gap. Knowing I wasn't going to make the night, I began to fill the pot myself. Tamara watched me, mesmerized. Even with all her brothers, I suspect she had never seen a man relieve himself. When I was done, she was there with the shirt. She lovingly cleaned me and followed with a tender kiss. More lovely words whispered as she let me know that everything was okay. Somehow, I loved her more.

We had to be gross about it. Survival required no less. I broke the seal, dumped out the pot then filled it with snow. I brought it in quickly, scrubbing it as best I could, then repeated the dumping and filling again. I sealed the gap for a final time that evening. The temperature had dropped dramatically inside, and my arm was freezing and had lost some of its color. Tamara hugged it to her chest as we shivered in the blankets. Once feeling returned to my arm, I lit the Sterno can, with one of our precious matches, and held the pot above to melt the snow.

Tamara made a face, indicating the pot. I shrugged my shoulders, "not much choice." I said. She moved in close and kissed my cheek. We huddled near the only sources of heat, Sterno and each other. When the snow had melted, and the water warmed, I tried to remove it from the flame. Tamara pushed my hand back and made a popping sound with her lips. I laughed and left the water over the flames to boil. She lightly bit my ear with her lips to stall my laughing and relieved me of the pot. She was in charge of sanitation.

The Sterno took the cold bite out of the air as it brought the water to a strong boil. After the melting, there was less than a third of a pot of water. There was no way we were going to break the seal again that night, so a third would have to do. We covered the Sterno and let the water cool.

We became tender, caressing with no sexual intent. Tamara needed the closeness after all the stress of handling nature's call in my presence. I loved her that way, so soft and caring. She thought she had lessened herself, exposing her animal needs. Greedily, I found it worth her minor shame. A cost worth enduring for such warm love. If a rescue team had showed up at that moment, I would have cursed them and all they held dear. I was exactly where I wanted to be, reassuring the most beautiful woman in the world that she had lost nothing.

Somehow, we slept. Our ears became used to the wind, our minds shutting it out as normal. Entwined in each other's arms, we found safety and warmth. I awoke once to some less than dainty snoring that I found strangely reassuring. I liked Tamara relaxed and sound asleep. Her breathing, loud or not, was part of her. It reminded me she was alive and comfortable in my arms. Like the wind, the snoring became part of everything and I slept again.

I awoke to silence. Sometime during the night the storm had exhausted itself. The hut was dimly lit in a morning glow. My eyes opened to find Tamara on her side, her head propped in her hand, watching me. She smiled, and my life held meaning. "Good morning gorgeous," I said, adding my smile to hers. She said something musical and leaned in for a kiss. I let the words and the kiss wash away the cold threat outside. Her hand trailed down my side and reached between my legs. More soft words and a pair of eyes filled with desire left no room for misinterpretation. We heated the hovel with more love.

Wearing everything that would fit us, we ventured outside. The hut needed fresh air and we needed to assess our situation. The situation wasn't good. The snow was to our knees where our fire used to be and the drifts against the trees were waist high. There would be no more finding dead wood. We knew where our supply was buried though it held only a day's worth. Our food was exhausted and even if we could attempt the cliff, we would die of exposure quickly.

I looked over the whitened landscape and smiled. At least it was beautiful. If you had to die, it might as well be among nature's perfect landscape. Tamara slid in next to me, wrapping her arm around me and sighed. She had come to the same conclusion.

"Tamara, will you spend the rest of your life with me?" I asked softly. My heart wasn't joking though the words held ironic humor. She looked up at me and smiled. I kissed that smile and accepted it as a yes. I let the grimness fade away and decided to make Tamara happy for as long as I could. They say freezing to death is like falling asleep. I couldn't think of anyone else's arms I would rather fall asleep in.

We dug out the fire pit and lit, what was most likely our last fire. Depending upon the weather, this could be our last time outside for any length of time until spring. We wouldn't last until spring. We both knew what it meant and let it go to enjoy what time we could together.

The fire felt wonderful. Things got a little damp around it, so we had to be careful to stay dry. Somehow, through her tenacity, Tamara taught me a game she called 'gomoku.' She sketched a many squared grid into the wet ground and we took turns placing Xs and Os into the squares until someone got four in row. I sucked at the game, but the stakes made it worthwhile. The winner got to demand a kiss wherever she, for it was never he, desired. Tamara had fun exposing portions of her skin to the cold and wasn't afraid to make me kiss her ass. It was the worst game I ever loved.

We had a long conversation, my half about what I did for a living and the places I had been. She spoke happily about something to do with her home. It didn't matter that we didn't understand each other. In fact, the lack of any possible disagreement made it that much nicer. We could laugh about a spark from the fire landing on my shoe or snow suddenly tumbling down a tree. Anything different that caught our attention and was shared seemed important.

Tamara was happy to run off and take care of her needs out of my sight. I would smile when she returned so that I could see her blush. It would earn me a smack on the shoulder, but it was a loving smack. I would apologize with a kiss.

Overall, it was one of the best days of my life. As our rocks warmed, I took her hand and held it over my heart and placed my other hand on hers. She covered it with her hand. "I love you," I admitted again. She nodded and cried. Fate put us together and dealt a lousy future. I thought about what life could have been and saw nothing of value that didn't contain Tamara. I preferred our short existence to one without her. We held each other as the last of the wood burnt low.

I tried adding growth I ripped from trees, but it produced more smoke than heat. Our last fire was done. Tamara smiled and held out her hand. In time, we would be done. For now, we would make love.

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

Tamara shook me awake, babbling as my eyes took in the morning glow. I smiled, thinking she wanted to continue last night's activities. Thinking back warmed me against the chill in the air. She pointed to the door then put a finger to her lips and one to her ear. I listened.

The unmistakable sound of a helicopter came in and out, echoing from some unknown distance. I never dressed so fast in my life. The damn storm could have damaged our signal. The snow certainly covered any traces of a crash. I burst out into the morning and was met by bitter cold. I ignored it and headed to the cliff, trudging through waist deep snow banks at times. The sound increased as I neared.

Tamara was coming behind me, using my path to ease the travel through the snow. Smart girl. By the time we got to the cliff, the sound was steady, though I couldn't see the copter. The sound was echoing from different directions, reverberating off the mountains.

Reaching the tree, I dug down its trunk to find the wire. It took a few seconds to pull the shirt free from the snow. The wind had blown it up, onto the cliff, and buried it. I shook it off and tossed it over the edge. It wasn't heavy enough to break through the snow and drop fully visible below the tree branches. I could hear warning words from Tamara as I maneuvered to the other side of the tree, hanging onto the trunk with one hand and using the other to break down the snow.

I could feel the cold weakening my fingers, but the engine sound made me continue. I began using my foot to extend my reach, pushing more snow over the cliff to set our flag. I smiled as the snow began to move en masse. I cringed when I began to go with it. A desperate grab to support my frozen fingers with my other hand failed. Tamara screamed. I went over the edge.

My mind had already settled on death. This new form was met with equal resolution. My last thought was not wanting to leave Tamara alone. I spread myself out and screamed, "See me!"

My thigh shattered in a field of green. Spinning. The left side of my head exploded into white light. Darkness followed.

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

My eyes wouldn't open. I struggled, but only a crack would form, and I saw nothing but whiteness behind a curtain of lashes. Snow. I remembered the snow. I was dying in the snow. I wasn't cold. It was just like falling asleep. I smiled inside, knowing my lips couldn't copy it. Just like falling asleep.

"Mr. Bennett." The voice was insistent and completely out of place. I felt something warm in my right hand. Nothing should be warm. I smiled. My blood would be warm.

"Mr. Bennett." It was a female voice. Not Tamara. Where was Tamara? I forced my eyes open, and light ripped into my skull. I closed them again and tried to move my left hand to cover them. My hand wouldn't move.

"Slowly, Mr. Bennett." The voice said. A warm hand covered my eyes so I could blink them open. A white room, warm and no snow. My head felt like it was swimming in grease. Thoughts were slow to come. The hand was removed, and a woman wearing a white lab coat with short cropped red hair smiled at me. Doctor? I drooled at her. A hand, from the other side of the bed, wiped my chin with a wet cloth. I turned my head, a young man in blue smocks stared back. Orderly? Nurse?

"Do you know where you are?" The doctor asked. I tried to answer, but my lips hadn't decided to cooperate yet. I nodded slightly, more sunk my chin than nodded. I was in a hospital. American doctor. Where was Tamara?

The doctor smiled at my movement. "Rick is going to give you some water to take care of the dryness in your throat." A straw was inserted between my lips and water was squirted in. Funny, I remembered doing that for Tamara. It felt wonderful in my mouth, so cool. I swallowed hard, letting it coat the back of my throat. I followed with a cough that broke phlegm I didn't know was stuck there. Rick added more water, and I swallowed easier. My lips were becoming my own again.

"Where's Tamara?" I asked weakly. It didn't sound like my voice. I wasn't sure if what I thought I said was coming out of my mouth. I coughed again to loosen things up.

"Slowly, Mr. Bennett," the doctor repeated.

"Tamara. Where is Tamara?" I said clearly. I heard the words that time. The doctor smiled as if I was child asking why the sky was blue.

"I don't know a Tamara," she answered, "is that a family member?" I tried to move my left hand again. There was resistance. I could lift my right. I looked down my body. Both legs were encased in metal cages that circled my legs with stainless steel spokes entering my skin holding it in place. My left arm was secured in a cast that ran from my wrist to past the elbow and halfway up my bicep.

"Crashed with me," I replied, "a woman with black hair. Thirtyish." My mind was quickening. I turned to the orderly to see if he knew.

"It's good that you remember the plane crash," the doctor continued,"we were worried you might suffer some memory loss." I felt anger surge. I don't know where it came from, but it dwarfed everything else.

"Where the fuck is Tamara?" I growled. I shifted. It was a stupid attempt to sit up and look more forceful. Pain shot up my side, and I quickly became aware of the rest of my body. It didn't feel good.

"I don't know a Tamara," the doctor continued, obviously quite skilled at irate patients, "but I will find out what I can." I settled back into the bed. It was the best I could hope for since I couldn't get up and walk out.

"How bad?" I asked, sending my eyes down to my legs.

"Both your legs experienced multiple fractures, " the doctor stated without reservation. I didn't want the glossed over version anyway. "We have reset the bones and inserted pins to guarantee it heals correctly. We expect you to regain full mobility in time."

"My arm?" I tried to lift my right arm to point to the left and stopped when I saw the IV needle.

"You fractured the radius and ulna and chipped the humerus at the elbow. Your arm will heal faster than your legs." The doctor stalled for a moment, "It was the head injury that concerned us the most. The swelling in your brain was very difficult to manage. By your questions, I assume there is little lasting damage. Though rehab will verify it over time."

"I looked like Channing Tatum before the crash," I joked. A wave of well-being came over me and washed the anger away. My mind was moving through emotions like a rollercoaster.

"The damage was more extensive than we thought," the doctor chuckled, "I'm glad you still have your humor though mood swings are to be expected as the drugs wear off." She looked at me, letting the humor fade away. "The swelling in your brain forced us to keep you in a medically induced coma for 57 days." Realization kicked in.

"Where am I? I mean, what city?" I asked quickly.

"You're at Chicago Memorial Hospital, Mr. Bennett," the doctor replied, "I'm your main physician, Doctor Mary Tristin." Chicago? Where the hell is Tamara? 57 days? Did they find her?

"Are my parents here?" I asked quickly, "I have to tell them about Tamara."

"They are outside waiting for word from me," Mary said, "do you think you are you ready for visitors?" She asked like I had a choice.

"Send them in, damn it!" I settled the tension and lowered my voice, "please." Damn drugs.

My mother was in tears. I didn't have time for tears. After quickly consoling her, I turned to my dad. "There was a woman who survived the crash with me on the mountain," I said, "what happened to her?"

"I think you should take it easy, son," my dad replied, trying to calm me, "let the accident be for now and we'll talk about later when you're feeling better." 57 days, we'll talk about it now.

"Damn it, quit coddling me," I chastised, "what the hell happened to her?"

"Okay, okay," my dad said, holding up his hands, "An Armenian woman was rescued with you, one of three including you that survived the crash. An old man survived as well and walked for several days. He is the one who sent help." He must have landed below the cliff, in the valley.

"What happened to Tamara, the woman?" I demanded.

"I suppose she went home," my mother said, her eyes glancing between my father and I. I didn't like the look. I remembered it from my childhood when I crashed my mini bike, and they were trying to explain why it wasn't in the garage anymore. I looked to my dad.

"Where is she?" I said leaving no room for lies.

"Son, I know things must have looked pretty grim..." I interrupted.

"Damn it! What the fuck did you do?" I could smell the parental interference. The room stunk with it, and the drugs enhanced it.

"She didn't even speak English, honey," my mother chimed in, "she claimed things..."

"I tried to give her some money," my father added. Oh God! That was the worst thing they could have done.

"I love her, you idiots!" I shouted, "I intend to spend the rest of my life with her." I heard a gasp at the door. Kimberly stood there, hand over her mouth, watery eyes. Fuck me.

"It's just the drugs," my mother declared, looking between Kimberly and me. There was silence for a moment as Kimberly, and I studied each other. I needed her alone.

"Please leave," I sighed, looking at my mom. Kimberly knew I didn't mean her. My dad had to escort my mother out. She was not taking the revelation very well. "I..." Kimberly interrupted by kissing my forehead. That is wasn't my lips, was telling.

"I wasn't going to tell you that way," I admitted.

"I know," Kimberly smiled. Her leaky eyes didn't match the smile, "I'm still glad you didn't die."

"I thought I had."

"They say you jumped off a cliff."

"Fell, more like it," I said, "trying to get the helicopter to see us." Kimberly studied me for a moment, her smile fading as she thought.

"Do you love her all the time?" Kimberly asked quietly. She knew it too. We weren't fully compatible, just used to each other. I nodded, unable to answer with words. I had no idea, how do you talk with my last love about my true love.

"I would have made a crappy nurse," Kimberly chuckled weakly. Her eyes defied the humor.

"We would have hated each other," I added. Kimberly nodded. There was no way we would have survived me being bedridden. She sat on the bed and took my hand in hers. I welcomed her friendship.

"I'm still sad about it," Kimberly continued, "parts of us were so good." I smiled remembering her beneath me in bed. She slapped my hand. "Not just those parts." We laughed with each other, mostly because she knew where my mind went. At least we now had real honesty.

"I need to find her," I said, "my parents may have screwed it up pretty bad."