Dad was so obsessed with Uluru. He'd already gone on and on about how once there was a mountain range and an inland sea. He reckoned the earth faulted and Uluru rose up and flipped on its side, so that the left-hand side of Uluru is fifty million years older than the right side. I liked Charlie's idea, that aliens gave Uluru to the Aboriginal people as a gift, a lot better. We had to drive straight to it, even though we weren't climbing it until tomorrow because Dad had to make sure it was actually there.
Charlie and me were starving because we hadn't had lunch. But we didn't complain. I knew Mom liked to check in to the hotel first to get organized. But she didn't complain either.
We passed lots of weird-looking trees. They looked like people who'd been standing to attention when an evil witch turned them all into trees. I could see Uluru in the distance. It got bigger as we got closer. It was very big and very red. But the really weird thing was that it was stuck in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't one other big rock near it. Yeah, Charlie must've been right; aliens must've given it to the local Aboriginal people as a gift. Why they'd want a humungous red rock, I didn't know. Maybe rock-giving was what you did on the aliens' planet.
We parked and Dad went on, "Oh, look at that! Stupendous! Magnificent! I can't wait to see the view from the top."
Mom turned and looked at Charlie and me. And Charlie and me looked at each other. I knew we were all thinking the same thing: It's seriously steep. I'm puffing just looking at it.
There were black slide marks going from the top to the bottom - like the aliens had got mats and slid down the sides for fun.
Then before we'd even got out of the car, the Jacksons pulled in next to us. They were following us! Alyson, Tyson and then Harry jumped out of their LandCruiser, which had so much red dust on it you couldn't tell it was white. Charlie and me had no choice; we couldn't stay in the nice air-conditioned car forever. We got out. Yep, it was hot. Charlie and me said hi to Alyson, Tyson and Harry, and to Mr. High-Pants Jackson and Mrs. Jackson.
Harry came and stood with me. He noticed my Manchester United shirt and said, "That's my team, too."
Alyson told Charlie they were climbing Uluru now.
Tyson asked me, "Are you climbing it too?"
"Tomorrow," I said. "We're going to see the sunrise and then climb it." Unless I suddenly got real sick during the night and I couldn't. That was possible.
Mr. High-Pants Jackson must've heard me because he said, "Oh, don't wait until tomorrow. They're predicting tomorrow will be windy so the climb will probably be closed."
If we had to climb it now, we'd never get lunch. I'd die of starvation. I felt my stomach, but there was nothing there - just a hollow space. I might die hungry.
Dad muttered, "We've got to climb Uluru. We haven't come all this way to miss out." He put his hand up to block out the sun and stared at the big red rock.
Mom said to Dad, "I'd rather wait until the morning when it's cooler."
"I'll take you to the hotel, if you like," replied Dad. "But I'm going to climb it now. If the climb is open tomorrow, I'll do it again with you."
Very generously, I offered to stay with Mom. Dad stuck his hands on his hips and glared at me.
Then Mom shook her head and said, "No, we'll all go together."
"Good idea," said Dad, "let's get ready."
I sucked in my breath. Would this be the last day of my life?
After scrounging in the car to find three cracker biscuits that Charlie and me had to share (I tried not to think that might be my last meal), slopping on half a tube of sunscreen and grabbing our backpacks, we all set off for the base of Uluru.
Tyson came in between Charlie and me and challenged us, "Bet ya I beat youse to the top."
I remembered telling Charlie I'd beat him to the top. But now I didn't feel like competing. Not with anyone. I wanted to concentrate on staying alive.
"I'm not interested in racing," said Charlie.
"Wimps," he said as though we were totally pathetic, and he ran up ahead.
Charlie and me looked at each other. I knew we were thinking the same thing. One of us has to beat him.
"You beat him," I whispered.
"Why me?" asked Charlie. "Why can't you?"
"You're the fastest runner."
"You're better at climbing trees," he said.
I hadn't thought of that. Actually, Charlie didn't even like climbing trees. But he was bigger and stronger, so he should beat him.
'Max, I've got to tell you something ... don't laugh.'
Just the serious look on his face made me feel like laughing.
He grabbed my arm and whispered, "I'm scared of heights - really scared. I only realized I was afraid of heights at Kings Canyon. Last night, I had a nightmare about being pushed off a tall building."
I began to laugh, but I stopped. That made sense ... how he'd gone a weird color when we were standing on the edge. Then it hit me just how hard it must've been for him to be lowered down to grab my hands. He'd been looking down at the canyon floor the whole time. But then I thought about me. I wanted to say, Obviously I'm so good I have to die young. I mightn't make it to the top. My dying wish is for you to beat Tyson to the top. But, of course, I couldn't. He'd saved my life. Not once, but three times.
"Okay," I said, "I'll beat him."
I swallowed as I looked up. Uluru almost seemed to go straight up. Up ahead I could see a couple of little kids coming down. That was sort of a good sign.
Mr. High-Pants Jackson turned to the rest of us and announced, "The first section is the most difficult." Then he stepped up onto Uluru and marched off like he was some famous explorer.
Harry whispered to me, "Can we go up together?"
"Sure," I replied. I couldn't tell him we had to try to beat his older brother before I probably fell off Uluru and died.
No one talked as we went up because it was slippery as well as steep. We had to concentrate. By the time we reached the chain rail, all I could hear was huffing and puffing. I listed the fifty US states in alphabetical order to stop myself thinking how I was so puffed I might run out of breath. By the time I got to 'Rhode Island', Mr. High-Pants Jackson had decided we should all stop for a breather. No one complained. Everyone took a few gulps from their water bottles.
Harry tugged at my Manchester United shirt. "Let's go,' he said. 'They're too slow."
"Don't you want to get your breath?"
"Got it," he said.
Great. I couldn't really say that I needed a bit longer. I nodded and he bounded away. Far out, I had to keep up with him!