Death Spiral

Chapter 2: Callum's POV

"Isn't it beautiful, Callum? An audience is chanting our names listen."

The sound of 'Ginger and Callum" can be heard from around the stadium. It echoes like a thunderous applause.

"They really like us. Let's get ready to skate." Ginger rests her head on mine and finds my hands. She prayers for us like she does for every performance and practice we undertake together. I am not a religious man, but I believe in the power of prayer. Her prayers are the guidance and praise from the higher power who gave us our ability to engage an audience.

The music begins as we find our skates on ice. The fridged air means I haven't made a sweat yet. Ginger's hands clasp mine and our routine begins. We start with a pair sequence and are in perfect synchronization. The audience clasps as we make our first lift. I lift her effortlessly as she floats through the air like a cloud.

We skate toward the middle and perform a death spiral. I hold her skate as she is lowered to the ground. My body becomes a pivot anchoring her from spinning out of control.

Our next move is the twist lift, where Ginger must twist three times in the air. We have struggled with this move-in practice, but I am confident we can nail it today. Ginger smiles at me as I lift her, and as she twists and falls back toward me, I miscalculated how far away she would land. I am not close enough as our hands touch. Ginger lands headfirst on the ice. The blood leaves her head, and the ringing in my ears is the sound of white noise. Fight, flight, and freeze have blurred into one. I pick Ginger's head up on my lap as the medics come. They take her away from me, and that's the last of it. It's the end of our skating career and future life together.

"Callum O'Leary is that you?" The memory of Ginger's death fades. The Civic Arena is still as chilly as I remember. The sound of skates scraping the ice makes me want to vomit.

"Hello, Coach Ping. I thought I had it in me to come back here. But I don't. I can't be here. The sound of skates makes me think of her."

"Let me show you something, Callum before you decide to leave," Coach Ping says. I follow the coach as she takes me to the wall of medals.

"This is a memorial for Ginger. It tells her story and her victories. There are pictures of you two together. I just wanted you to know it's here. I've seen skaters place flowers in front of it before a competition. I think you should stay awhile and are what I mean. It might surprise you. At least stay for the first half of the competition. Sign a few autographs and leave. No interviews, I paid the journalists to leave you alone."

I sit down at the table in front of the medal display.

"You did? Well, now I can't leave then. Alright, I will stay for an hour if it would mean that much to you. But not a minute more."

A young blonde woman walks up to the glass window and places them under Ginger's picture. She mutters a quick prayer as she closes her eyes.

"Excuse me, did you know Ginger?" I ask, not sure if I have seen this woman before.

"No, I admired her though. My name is Elisia. I'm just a fan of Ginger's. I miss watching her perform. Her partner and she were amazing. Wait a minute, you look an awful lot like the man in the picture."

Elisia turns her head back and forth and compares my face to the competition photo.

"I miss Ginger. She was the best partner, I ever had." Coach Ping smiles as I shake Elisia's hand.

"I just want you to know she meant an awful lot to me. And I am so sorry for your loss. Would you mind signing this napkin. I would love to have your autograph if that's okay."

Coach Ping hands me a pen and nudges me to sign the napkin.

Brochures pop out from the wall and I grab one. I sign the brochure next to the old picture of Ginger and me from five years ago.

"Wow, thanks. I didn't even think about the brochures. Can I get a photo with you too?"

"Elisia, stop talking to this man and come here now. We have rehearsal today in the next rink over or did you forget?" A crank young man snaps at her. Elisia's happiness wanes as she takes a wick selfie with me.

"Derek relax this is Callum O'Leary, he's the guy who used to compete with Ginger."

It's nice that she didn't call Ginger the dead woman like a rude person might have.

"It's nice to meet you, Callum. Thanks for taking a picture with Elisia. She can be a handful. We are practicing in the next arena over. Enjoy the competition." Derek's half-smile makes him as friendly as an unripe grapefruit.

"Thanks, and good luck with practice." Elisia waves at me, as a crowd of people, point at me. A group of cameras and people sit in front of me and the autographs begin. All I want to do is leave, and forget about ice skating. The only nice person I have met today was Elisia. I will never forget the way she prayed in front of Ginger's photo. It was like Ginger's spirit reached through the photo and prayed for me today.

Thanks, Ginger, for blessing me today with your prayerful presence, I could not have done it without you. I sign the last autograph and leave after an hour. I will never again return to the civic arena, I have no reason to. It's comforting to know that Ginger's memory is honored by current skaters and it's enough for me to move on and never skate again.