Black Ice

Every day of every winter, I would gather up my skates and stick and run down to meet Graeme at the lake around 3; and for hours we would pass the puck back and forth taking turns being the goalie of a snow ledge goal we devised. Graeme shot the puck and sent it with slippery elegance between my feet.

“He shoots, he scores , and the crowd goes wild! Haaaaaaa”

I passed the puck back to Graeme. He shot again but this time I was able to get my stick on the puck and deflect it from going in.

“Oh! What now!” I tried to move my feet like dancing, but instead the movements just mimicked one who had lost their balance.

“Hahahaha, that’s some victory dance, better get ready cause here comes another.” He pulled back his stick and let the puck go flying—right into my shin.

“AAhhh, man that hurt”

“Hahaha, nice block”

I threw down my stick and chased after him, we spent an hour or so racing around the lake tackling each other, waiting for the other one to give up. By night, we’d abandon our equipment since the puck would disappear into the darkness and skate around the lake listening to the eerie cracks in the ice. The ice and sky seemed to be one, as the sky grew darker, the ice became blacker with our only sanctuary being the moon that granted passage to and fro on the ice. We laid down on the ice letting our clothes fight a losing battle of being soaked. Night mixed with silence with a touch of cold created the tastiest tranquility one could find. Until I had to go home, we laid there, staring at the blackened clouds – words were not exchanged, yet this seemed to bring us even closer together.

You know tomorrow is the day, you ready?”

“You’re going down this year, no doubt about it.”

“We’ll see.”

Every winter, December 15th, we would race from one end of the lake to the other with the prize being able to brag for a year! Unfortunately, Graeme has been able to brag for the last 3.

“Well I’m going, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

The next day I called Graeme to make sure he wasn’t going to chicken out on me. Of course the real reason was I wanted to see if he had left yet so I could go down early and warm up before him.

“Hello? Is Graeme there?

“I’m sorry Ryan, he’s not…”

“Ok, thank you” and hung up the phone before hearing the rest. BAH! He had already beat me to it.

By the time I got down to the lake Graeme was already there waiting for me.

“Hey”

“Hey, you ready?”

“Shut up, I need some time to warm up, you’re not winning this year.”

“Hahaha alright, but you know we start at 3 every year, can’t break tradition”

“Ya ya”

That gave me about half an hour or so to get my legs and feet used to skating and stretch out the soreness from yesterday. After a couple of laps around the lake I sat down and used the remaining time to stretch and make sure my skates were tied tight.

“So, how should we start the race this year?”

“I don’t know, how about like we did last summer when we were roller blading, use a snowball instead of a rock?”

“Alright.”

We both lined up and got into position, Graeme being the reigning champion got to start the race.

“Ok so when the snowball hits we go.”

Graeme chucked a snowball straight into the air in front of us, our eyes watched it as if our very lives depended on this little ball of snow. Faster and faster the ball came back down, and soon we were off! My start was perfect, last year my skate didn’t catch enough for a push off and the blade slipped before catching the ice. We were neck and neck but I could tell Graeme was holding back until the final sprint at the end. My lungs started to hurt from the icy wind, and I was falling behind. With what I had left, I decided to try to make the final sprint a lot sooner then usual and took off. Luckily this caught Graeme by surprise and even slowed him for a second to think if he should do the same or keep his pace. The finish line, a line in the ice we carve out with our skates every year a week before the race, was less then 10 yards away. At this point I felt nothing, no pain, I couldn’t even tell if I was still wearing skates anymore, all I could focus on was the finish line. 5 yards, 3 yards, 1 yard, I finished, and not only that I finished first! Having no energy to even stop myself, I coasted for a couple of more yards trying to catch my breath. The moment my skates stopped I collapsed to the ice, I didn’t even have enough strength to stay standing.

“Haha, oh man Graeme, I am completely exhausted, I think we both made record time this year, me of course having the best time, hahaha”

Silenced followed, I turned to my right, no one, my left, again no one. I climbed to my feet and turned around wondering why Graeme isn’t right beside me.

No one.

The ice was completely alone, I was alone. I could hear a car on the road pull up next to the lake. I felt my adrenaline pumping straight to my legs as I took off towards ‘The hole’ a spot where the ice was weak and many times had a big hole in it, thinking Graeme may have tripped and fell in. As I skated towards the hole I could hear a faint voice yell.

“Ryan, Hey Ryan, Are you ok?”

“Ya, but I think Graeme fell through the ice.” I called back out of breath, hysteria would be the best way to describe it.

“GRAEME…GRAEME” I yelled, but the icy hole just gobbled up my words into nothingness. AH, why did I have to tie my skates so tight! Once they were off I could jump in and see if I could save him, only if I didn’t tie my skates so DAMN TIGHT.

Finally they came off but before I could jump into the hole my father grabbed me from behind.

“AH, LET ME GO, GRAEME’S DOWN THERE, I HAVE TO GO GET HIM” I scrabbled, trying to break free from my father’s grip.

“GRAEME, GRAEME!!!!”

“Ryan, Graeme’s not here, so settle down.”

I turned and looked at my father, “What do you mean?” I felt a sense of relief that maybe Graeme decided to scare me and skate away while I was racing for the finish, he’d do something like that, especially if he thought he was going to lose.

“You called Graeme’s house again…”

“Ya, So where is he…Is he in the car with you, probably laughing his head off at me.”

“Ryan….” my father, a strong and healthy individual, looked sad and helpless. “It’s been three years.”

“Wha, what are you talking about.”

“Ryan, Graeme died in a car accident coming home from school, don’t you remember?...Come on let’s go home.”

I pulled away from him and skated to the middle of the lake where I fell to the ice in disbelief. Soon I heard the car door slam and pull away—again I was alone.

I sat there till night as my body became apart of the ice. The cloudless sky allowed the moon to show the whole lake in its’ glowing magnificence. Graeme never reappeared, but I knew he wasn’t gone; maybe everywhere else he was gone, but not here, not on the ice. Here he was alive, I could feel it, and one day I will beat him! I brushed my cheeks that had collected small ice droplets on them. Hmph, this was the year I was finally going to beat him too…

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Tags:

death, ice, skating and tcc1