Downhills From Here

Part 5: Like a screaming banshee

The next day I changed places with Kenny again and arrived bright and early with the few other morning persons at the skiing lodge. For once I was actually happy Emma was not there. She would not have wanted to get up this early. She was more of a night owl. A party night owl. And not as silent as an owl. I had texted with her after I hung up with my mom, and she was bristling to go to some show in the mall. The mall was the only place Emma would go in her wheelchair, only if she was having a good hair day, and only if Caitlin and Vanessa could go with her. Or me, but I currently I was on the other side of the Atlantic.

"Hey girl, bright and early!" Bob greeted me with a smile and winked. "Jon is already up in the pistes." He nodded towards the door out to the slopes.

"Oh," I said and dumped my bag on the counter. Bob's grin grew like he knew a secret I wasn't privy to. I wanted to ask, but I was afraid it had something to do with Jonathan, and he was handsome enough to make me nervous and self-conscious so I'd rather not know.

Decked out in my normal skiing gear I headed for the kids' slope, did a couple of runs just to warm up, and then headed for the next slope up. I spotted the teenager from yesterday and we shared a wave as he continued towards the top, while I stumbled off at the first plateau.

Baby steps, I was telling myself. I'd eventually get to the slopes higher up. I focused on trying to turn while plowing my way down and actually arrived at the bottom almost at a standstill. Not at break-neck speed like usually. I joined the line for the lift and was so busy thinking about Jonathan and what Bob's smile had been all about that I missed the first plateau. I was too embarrassed to stumble off in the middle of the lift slope so I just clung to the anchor all the way to the top.

It was magnificent. And it was scary. The views were spectacular. Snow-covered mountain peaks, snow-covered forests, all glittering in the sun, which had just risen above the peaks in the distance. I sucked in a lung full of cold air and felt the wind sting my face. Refreshing. Now I wished I had taken my phone with me. Emma would have been so jealous of these views. I sighed and turned my gaze down towards the tiny red speck in the distance that was the lodge. The previously peaceful feeling that had settled in me was gone, replaced by dread and adrenaline.

How the heck was I going to get all the way down there, without breaking my legs or neck?

"Is there a safer way down?" I asked the lift attendant and he looked at me like I had a couple of screws loose, then pointed downhills.

I shook my head. "I forgot to jump off the lift at the first plateau, I've never..." my voice trailed away as I gestured towards a couple of skiers just disappearing down the slope.

"Sorry, that's the only way down, I'm afraid," he said with what I believed was a French accent. "Unless you have a medical emergency." He looked me up and down. "You don't look like you're having a medical emergency."

I shook my head again. "No... at least not yet."

He didn't smile. "Look," he pointed at a skier who had just set off down the piste. "You move your weight from one foot to the other to turn. Then you stop, rest, and do some more turns. Eventually, you'll get down."

"Thanks," I said and shuffled closer to the edge of the slope. My skis started sliding and before I knew it I was reaching bullet-train speed again.

"Move your weight to one foot!" The lift attendant's words echoed between the trees, and I thought I had nothing to lose by trying it out.

I leaned and put my whole body weight on my right leg and suddenly I had almost skidded to a halt, then overbalanced and started sliding downhills backward. I landed hard on my butt, arms flailing, skis in the air.

At least I didn't lose a ski, I thought and did a halfassed roly-poly and ended up facing downwards. I got my skis under me and managed to stand up sideways. A skier swished past me and I squinted in the sunlight watching him. He zigged and he zagged all the way down the slope until he was just a black speck against the glittering snow. I wiggled my bum. It looked so easy when the other skiers did it.

"Just do it," I told myself and aimed my skis towards the red lodge at the bottom. I put my weight on my left leg, and what do you know, I skidded to a halt facing the other way.

Hey! Maybe this was it? Maybe my body had had enough of embarrassing me and had decided to learn to slalom all by itself? I did it again, repeated the process until the slope wasn't so steep and then I tried to go from left to right to left. I almost had it when my skis got locked into a parallel position and I schussed down and skidded to a halt at the bottom. I stood still for a second, letting what had happened sink in. I had stopped. I had actually stopped! By myself. I looked around to see if anyone had seen my beautiful stop. Nobody was looking. Everyone was busy with their own skiing, getting to and from the ski lifts.

I made my way towards the anchor lifts again and the closer to the top it pulled me the faster my heart was beating. The secret to slalom was almost mine, I could feel it just within reach, a couple of zigzags down the slope. The lift attendant looked surprised when I came up to the lifts again.

"Did you forget to jump off again?"

I shook my head. "Nope, I survived enough to try it again." Then I set off, downwards again. And I made it. I zigged and I zagged several times before I had to stop because my cheeks were hurting so much from smiling. I was doing it. Where was Jonathan, I needed to show him.

I did a couple of zigzags, then spotted a skier aiming for the forest and disappearing on a small trail. I came to a stop and watched the inviting trail. It might go to another piste. Curiosity got the better of me and I followed the skier into the woods. At first, the trail was smooth, like in the slopes. Snow-covered evergreens made way for the small path in the forest. I spotted the skier in front of me through the trees a couple of times as the trail wound here and there until from nowhere, the skier veered to the left and I missed the turn. I continued straight forward. Never mind, I'd just get to another piste and make my way down to the lodge from there. Nothing to worry about.

Until the smooth ride was over. I had no idea what the bumps were, but I was rattling along like I was cycling over rail sleepers. Up down up down. My teeth were rattling along with the bumps, and I was picking up speed. Too fast. I barely missed a tree. I'd end up against a tree-like one of those funny cartoons. But this wasn't funny. It would end badly.

The trees opened up quite suddenly into a clearing that seemed to abruptly stop mid-air, and by the edge, another skier in an orange skiing overall stood. He or she was probably just admiring the breathtaking views. Peace and tranquility, with the crisp clear sky and the snow-covered world glistening in the sunlight. Then I came barreling through the woods like shot from a cannon, straight at them, screaming like a banshee.

We went down, and down and down, because what do you know, it was a cliff that ended a couple of meters further down. And then we hit snow, and we kept on rolling and rolling and rolling. I even think we started a small snow avalanche, we were one with the snow so it was hard to tell where we ended and the snow continued. I thought we'd never come to a stop, and if there was another cliff coming, we'd probably die.

I had no idea what way was up or down when we finally came to a stop. Snow was covering me and the other skier and they weren't moving. I wasn't moving either. My chest was hurting. What if I had killed them? Shit. What do I do? I stared at the little speck of blue sky I could see through my snow-covered glasses and wished I had stayed in the kids' area. Something was poking me in my ribs from underneath and then it moved. I let out a sigh of relief. The other skier was still alive. I felt like whooping. No death by dangerous skiing this time.

The other skier groaned then coughed and swore under his breath and I realized two things; it was a man, and he sounded very familiar.