Walking on Thin Ice

Chapter 6 - Gaslines and Theories

The gas line stretched back endlessly, at least that was how Janie felt as she laid in the backseat of Coach Craig's car as they waited in line for gas. Doc and Craig set in the front, staring out into the crowded road, listening to the news report on the radio. It was certainly a hot day in Minneapolis, and Janie felt as if she was about to suffocate. She could not remember it ever being this hot. Her left arm was draped over her forehead, while her right fell to the floor of his car. The line was taking forever, but that was what President Carter had asked, carpool and don't get gas until it was an absolute necessity. And now, here they were in line, with the a/c turned off and the windows down, with nothing but the breeze that appeared every now and then to cool them off. She supported President Carter's advice, but this was growing tiresome. With the Cold War going on between countries, and America close to another depression, Janie was unsure about what was going to happen next. She sat up slightly and glanced back at the other cars that were jampacked with the hockey team. Almost eight boys were squeezed into each car, but they didn't seem to mind as they all appeared to be having a good time. Jack sat in the car behind her, and he seemed to notice as Janie sat up and turned to look at them. He flashed her a confident, reassuring smile. Slowly, she grinned back and laid back down, continuing to stare up at the ceiling.

"So, what do you think it's going to be like today?" Patrick cut through the silence, "The price of the gas I mean?"

"A whole damn more expensive than it was the last time we came here." Janie muttered, throwing herself into a sitting position.

Coach Craig chuckled to himself as he watched her from the rearview mirror. Janie spun around to face the same direction as them, resting both arms on the seats in front of her. Gently, she leaned forwards onto the seat and rested her chin on the top of her forearms, listening to what was being said on the radio. Her hair was tied up over her head, but every now and then sweat slipped down the back of her neck and onto her tank top. She had removed her flannel, but that didn't seem to help her much. Doc and Patrick glanced at each other before Doc checked his watch. Thank god, they had left an hour early.

"So, Janie, tell me about yourself. I've heard storied from Doc and Herb, but that's about it."

She smiled to herself and glanced out the side window for only a few second before turning her attention back to Patrick.

"What do you want to know?"

"Just details. Tell us your life story to pass the time. Because none of us know when this line is going to move again."

She chuckled to herself and laid back down on the seat, but deep down, she pondered what to tell them. What parts of her life to share. Because over the years, Janie learned that you only needed to tell the people what you wanted them to know. She had learned how to hide from certain aspects of her past by never mentioning them to anyone, or to herself.

"Well, I'm a Boston native. Born June 15 in 57'. Attended University of Minnesota from 75' to 79'. Started to play hockey around 70'. Retired around November of 77'..."

Her voice faded away and caught in midair as certain memories that she did not want to relive. Doc and Patrick attempted to look at her through the mirror, but could not see her, for she now hid from them, attempting to shake off the feeling she was undergoing. Janie shook her head slightly, a single tear slipped from her eyes as she recalled all the events that had happened that year. She lost everything, hockey, her father, her mother, and Jack. The last thought about Jack slipped through her mind involuntarily and her eyes widened from surprise. But suddenly, the voice on the radio caught all their attention.

"The Soviets performed a nuclear test yesterday. Setting off a 75-kiloton bomb in eastern Kazakhstan. The United States -."

Janie stared up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would take for them to finally strike them down as if they were nothing. The announcer was cut off by Doc.