Page 3 of Tear Me Apart
Left, right, left, right, poles stuck to her body, over the jump, airborne, arms windmilling slightly, but she stays tucked perfectly, totally in control. She has it; she has it, she is flying down the slope. She can hear the screams and cheers as she zooms past. She knows with the assurance of years of skiing that she is in the zone, is going faster than she ever has. All the hard work, the ski camps, the weight training, it is all coming together.
Left. Right. Left. Tuck.
The burst of swirling snow comes from nowhere. It catches her full in the face just as she makes the last gate. Her skis slip out of the ruts. The tip of her left ski hits the plastic guard of the flag, and she is in midair, flying for real this time.
Everything is silent. She doesn’t hear the gasps, the screams, just focuses on relaxing, like she’s always been taught. Though she is airborne, if she isn’t too far off, she can still make it if she keeps her tuck, lands correctly, gets the damn right ski down, and makes the next turn... The flag slaps her in the face, and she goes down in a flurry of skis and poles and snow.
She doesn’t know how long she lies there before it registers she has crashed. Her champion’s body resists the idea, continues to make the last turns, her torso writhing in the snow.
The snow is cold.
My face hurts.
Myleghurts.
Her eyes are closed. She opens them to whiteness.I’m blind, oh my God, then realizes her face is freezing. She is facedown. She plants her arms in the snow and tries to rise. The pain in her leg is white-hot, and she cries out. Seconds later, she is surrounded. Ski patrols, red jackets, white crosses. The first touch is from a woman, her face deeply tanned, her goggles opaque.
“Your leg’s broken, sweetie, try not to move. I know it’s cold. Hang tight. We’ll get you splinted and get you on the sled.”
“My leg? It’s broken? How do you know? Did I make it all the way down?”
“Tough girl, you didn’t. You tagged that last flag, and it knocked you upside down. You did a backflip, came down hard. You’ve been out for a few minutes. Pretty spectacular crash. And your leg...trust me, honey, it’s broken. No, no, don’t look.”
Mindy ignores the admonition, wishes she hadn’t. There is a large jag of white sticking out of her shin. Her blood looks like rubies against the icy slush. She fights back the urge to scream. “But my time...if I don’t finish, I’m DQd from the event. I have to get down. You’ve gotta let me up.”
The patrol’s voice is sympathetic. “You’re out of it now, sweetie, I’m sorry. Maybe you have enough points to qualify from your other races. But you can’t go anywhere, this leg’s pretty gnarly. Okay, here’s the splint, hang tight, this is going to hurt like a bitch.”
Mindy grits her teeth as they start pumping up the air cast. Fights back the tears, focuses on the voice that keeps saying,You didn’t make it, you didn’t make it. She stops fighting, tries to relax as they lift her into the sled and start down the remainder of the mountain. She tries to be a good sport about it, as she’s been taught, raises a fist toward the worried faces, and the crowd goes absolutely wild, cheering for their girl, but inside she is wailing.
She wanted this so badly. It’s all she’s ever wanted. And she’s blown it.
What happened? She runs the course again in her mind, realizes there is a big blank. She doesn’t remember how she went down. She knows this isn’t entirely unusual; she’s heard about it happening to other racers. She’s been so blessed, so lucky, never to have had a major injury. Granted, she’s seventeen, and she’s only been on the circuit at this level for a year. But still.
What if I can never ski again?
This spike to her heart is too much to bear. She wipes away tears as they reach the bottom. Her dad is waiting; she can see his bright red North Face jacket, concern etched on his handsome face. He pushes aside two ski patrols and kneels beside her.
“Poor baby. Does it hurt?”
“Daddy, I didn’t make it.”
“Let’s worry about your leg first, peanut, then we’ll worry about the rest.”
“I don’t remember falling. What happened?”
“Microburst of snow. Came out of nowhere.” As if to prove his point a swirl of snow surrounds them. Her father says, “They really should close the course, it’s too dangerous now.” He pats her hand. Mindy can only feel pressure through the glove, not the warm reassurance of her father’s hand.
“Where’s Mom?”
“I’m right here, honey. Right here. You’re okay. I’m here.”
Mindy hears the calm concern of her mother’s voice and takes a deep breath. If her mom isn’t frantic, it isn’t too bad.
“Mom will meet us at the hospital, honey. They won’t let us both ride with you. She’s going to drive the car—”
“No!”
Her dad’s face registers a tiny bit of shock. “Okay, no worries. Mom will ride with you, and I’ll bring the car.”
