Snow Angel

ARC

I

Losing Your Footing Again and Again

The sky was a perfect pale blue, sprayed with snow from Chris’s board. He was tearing down the mountain on his favorite run, shredding the snow, and feeling very cocky. His friends Tyler, Josh and Graham were way behind him, he being the best boarder among them and in his heat today. He squinted his dark brown eyes in the wind, grinning as he picked up speed, landing a jump with easy grace.

“Guess I’d better let them catch up,” he thought, and swerved to a stop near the woods on one side of the run. This happened to be a spot where two runs intersected, heading through each other at diagonals down the mountain. One, the one he was riding, was for advanced skiers and boarders; the other was gentler--good practice for those still getting the hang of mountain sports. He stood a while and ran a hand through his sandy hair, letting his heart rate drop from the exhilaration of the mountain and the cold air.

Someone on rented skis was coming down the intermediate run, swerving and slicing the snow. Chris was impressed by the skier’s powerful movements. Suddenly, the guy’s skis suddenly hit an icy patch, sending him flying. He slid downhill and sideways from where he’d fallen, landing about fifteen feet away from Chris.

“Dude!” Chris yelled to the downed man. He flipped his board up on its inside edge and hopped uphill to where the poor guy lay flat on his back.

“Don’t scare me like that! ...Man, what a yard sale...” The guy’s gear was spread out on the snow for twenty feet or so; he’d lost a ski, both his poles, his goggles and his hat.

Chris stopped hopping as he got close enough to touch the skier, dropping to his knees near the black ski-booted feet. “Dude, are you all right?”

The skier sat up. Chris blinked in surprise as he saw long hair falling into a pale oval face.

It wasn’t a guy, after all.

It was a girl. The most beautiful girl he could remember seeing, ever. Her skin was pale, her cheeks bright pink with the cold. Her long, reddish hair fluttered a bit as the wind picked it up and played with it. Her mouth was a perfect red strawberry, her upper lip like the line children draw for a bird in the sky. But Chris could not tear himself away from her eyes; wide and almond-shaped, and so...blue...no, green...grey? Two deep, swirling pools of color...

All of her features slammed into his senses in a few fleeting seconds. Then the girl bent her head and began nonchalantly shaking snow out of her jacket sleeves, as though falling on the slopes was something that happened to her all the time. Maybe it was.

Chris realized with a shock that his mouth was hanging slightly open. “Idiot,” he mentally cursed himself, and promptly closed it. “I, uh...here.” He popped his feet out of his bindings, stood, and offered her a hand. She finished getting the snow and ice out of her sleeves and gloves and, glancing up, seemed to quite suddenly notice him standing there with his hand outstretched. She popped her foot out of her one remaining ski, reached up and took his hand. Unsteady in ski boots, she almost fell into him--he gripped her forearms just in time. She was short, he noticed: she only came up to his chin. She looked up at him and smiled. It was a small, crooked smile, so unexpected and stunningly gorgeous that Chris’s jaw dropped again. He made use of this involuntary opening of his mouth to say, “Are you okay?” She watched his mouth as he said this, and nodded. “I’ll, um, go get your stuff...” She looked at him quizzically as he felt his ears burn, and he went off to retrieve her lost articles.

“Smooth, man, real smooth,” Chris grumbled at himself as he plodded uphill. “She probably thinks you’re a gaping idiot... ‘I’ll go get your stuff.’ Brilliant...” He hoisted the ski and poles over his shoulder and grabbed the goggles and hat in his other hand, then stumbled back down the hill to where the girl stood watching him.

“Uh...here.” He handed her the hat and set her ski on the ground. He watched as she smoothed her hair with gloved hands, tucking it behind her ears. Smiling, touched the fingers of her right hand to her chin and then moved her hand down toward him, palm up. “Sign language?” thought Chris. “Well, that explains why she didn’t respond to me after she fell...” He watched as she popped her feet back into her skis, using her ski poles for support, then he handed her goggles back to her. She fitted them over her forehead, above her eyes, and stood, smiling at him. She nodded once. Not knowing what else to do, he smiled back and nodded, too.

Before he could make any further attempts at communication with the girl, whoever she was, she had turned and sped off down the run. He stared at the tracks made by her skis until to his eyes they became invisible, seeming to disappear into the whiteness of the snow as if they had never been there at all. Did he imagine the whole episode?

“Chris! Dude!” came the cry across the cold air. “Where you been?” Chris turned to see Josh, Tyler and Graham a short distance uphill, waiting for him.

“Hey, guys.” Chris felt reluctant to leave the spot where the girl had been just a few moments ago. He snapped his feet back into his bindings and called, “Ready to go?”

“We’ve BEEN ready, man!” said Tyler, annoyed.

“I got a little sidetracked.”

“Yeah, whatever, dude. Let’s go, already!”

“Need a head start, guys?” smirked Chris.

“That’s it, you’re goin’ DOWN!” crowed Josh.

The three laughed and raced down the steeper of the two runs, spraying Chris with arcs of snow. Chris jumped into position, ready to chase after them, but something stopped him. He stood still for a moment, silently hoping this strange and lovely girl might reappear out of the snow, smiling at him...

She didn’t come.

Chris sighed heavily and started downhill after his friends. “Hey guys, wait up!”