Page 19 of Going Down

When the weather forecaster announced it would be in the negative double digits, it was in the best interest of the guests to shut down the resort today. We’re all about saving people and, in these extreme conditions, frostbite and hypothermia are serious considerations. I can’t imagine how tough other first responders have it, especially the firefighters dealing with frozen water lines.

The mass of frigid air will linger another twenty-four hours before moving west and giving New England a marginal reprieve—one that gets us back on the slopes, albeit bundled up. When it comes down to it, this is February, and as snow adventurers, we have to accept the good along with the bad.

Dash and I take full advantage. Today is the first day off that both of us have had in a few weeks which happens to coincide. Last night, I let him play hairdresser at the townhouse, helping me bleach the roots of my dreads so that they’re all blonde again. Once my hair was washed clean, he got under the warm spray and we shared our first shower. Dash on his knees privately worshipping me with the cascade of water falling over his back is an experience I won’t soon forget.

Afterward, we came back here with every intention of going to bed and sleeping late. We managed very little sleep when I decided to repay Dash for the generous way he’d made me wet.

This morning, I made grits for sustenance the way Dash taught me. Meanwhile, Dash did a quick shovel around his tiny house and brushed off the solar panels. We empty our bowls and run to the local hardware store to stock his wood. The trailer stays toasty, but so much time with temps below zero has meant he’s burning faster.

The colder it got the more I’d worried about him and Capote. However, Dash has big propane tanks to heat his water and a heater to keep her from becoming a kitten-sickle while he’s gone. Like an igloo, the tall snow walls fortify the structure and keep it insulated.

Of course, the fresh water has been a tad slower, but a generator connects the heating element to keep it flowing through the exterior hose. Honestly, the more I learn about Dash’s unusual home, the more impressed I am. Living off the grid isn’t slacking. You have to be independent and determined to brave these kinds of elements.

With all the household tasks complete, we bundle up and take a drive to the nearest big city to see a movie and have sushi. While we’re out, I also buy Capote an insane cat climbing tower to make up for almost losing her. Dash didn’t tell me no because she’s becoming crazier as she grows. We’re trying to determine a plan that allows us to suspend it from the rafters and save floor space. The hitch is, it will have to come down so that it’s safe when Dash travels.

Resembling a lumberjack, hauling the cat tower over his shoulder through the indoor shopping center, he’s attracted to a sensory display the same way Capote is to the red light of a laser pointer. I watch the carpeted log swing back and forth as he interacts with the images projected on the floor. He kicks an imaginary ball, entices me to play hopscotch, and makes me stay to slice and dice fruit with my feet. The last game? It never gets old.

A group of kids gathers around him in awe as he squishes bugs.

“Do you want me to take that?” I laugh, asking about the cat condo when it seems Dash has himself immersed in a different world.

“I’m good!” he calls.

The screens changed to piano keys. Dash plays the first notes ofHeart and Souland jumps off. The kids scramble to the pad and the music plays on, the keys jarring and pitching. Meanwhile, a few of the parents and other onlookers clap for Dash. He takes a bow, flourishing his empty hand like a Shakespearian actor.

“Where did you learn to play?” I ask.

“The song? I don’t even remember it’s been so long.” Dash smooths a hand back in his hair, a little sheepish and a lot self-deprecating.

“You never cease to amaze me. All of the things you know, places you visit, or plan to…Most of the people I know all want to be important. A doctor, a lawyer, someone with power and money. You’re okay with being you.”

“I want to be someone, Kat.”

“You do?”

He invades my space. “Yes. Every night I want to be the person who reminds you that you’re someone.”

“You’re so corny.” I let Dash kiss me.

“Is it still convincing you to spend time with me?” He holds his thumb to my chin.

“Yes.”

“Then my success rate is epic.” The tower precariously balanced on his shoulders, he widens his arms triumphant.

On the way back to his place, my fingers seek his out. Laced together, Dash brings them to his lips. We wind up holding hands the rest of the way and once Capote comes out of hiding and is distracted by her mammoth new toy, we take her place between the warm sheets.

The next night, I’m back in my own bed at the townhouse. The cookie-cutter units seem more confining the more time I spend away from them. It’s as if I’m caged and, funny enough, when I’d left college it was the exact opposite. I’d been afraid that there was a part of me blindly following in my parent’s footsteps

As doctors, they encouraged my interest in medicine. I love what I do at the mountain and maybe it’s the reason why. However, I’d also wanted one thing to hold onto from our past as a family. One shred of evidence that not everything I’d taken at face value my whole life was false. It was skiing and being outdoors. The fun we had, the memories we built a foundation on, they had to be true. You can’t fake enjoying life all of the time, can you?

For as many moments as I have faked success, trying to find myself over the past few years, I’ve never questioned the fun I’ve had with Dash or—other than that one incident early on—his genuine interest in me. Now my worries are more counting down the days until the resort closes and, selfishly, if he’ll find another friend like me over the summer.

I dial him to maintain the connection and we go about our night with one another on video chat, streaming as if we’re in the same place.

“My cousin is coming to fix the cabinet in the morning,” Dash says to me. He’s in his tiny kitchen and it’s jogged his memory. “We’re boarding at the mountain before my classes. Want to join us?”

“Dr. Jai is coming.” I use Dash’s nickname for my dad. He hasn’t been up to ski alongside Dash and me recently.

---