Chapter 8
Christine
The feeling of flying, of being completely free.
The moment when there was nothing else in the world but the music and the ice.
As I came down from the triple axel, I landed exactly as I’d hoped, swinging my arms out and basking in the moment as the audience rose to their feet, prepared to break into applause.
A slight chill shifted through me as the entire world drifted into an opaque blur, leaving only the sound of my breath, the thrum of my heart. With the gothic passage of music, I was driven into a moment where passion held no bounds, where the very essence of life was within my grasp.
If only for a few incredible minutes.
I moved from one side of the ice to the other, taking a flying leap into the air, careful to position my hands just so.
As soon as I landed, a tiny thrill tore through me.
My performance had been clean, much better than the week before.
Well, with the exception of a couple of bobbles when I landed after the triple lutz.
Sighing, I snapped my hands onto my hips while placing the back edge of one blade in front of the other.
I took several shallow breaths to try to fill my lungs, concentrating on the sound the skates made while gliding across the ice. There was no audience ready to erupt in appreciation, no judges in the shadows preparing to provide a score. And no hopeful wishing for a win in the competition.
There was nothing but an empty sensation that happened every time I finished skating, feeling the loss even after all these years.
My breathing was heavier than before, my bones aching from fatigue.
But the exhaustion I’d experience for the rest of the night and into the morning was well worth the electric rush of freedom.
In fact, I wasn’t ready to leave the ice.
I had another fifteen minutes or so allotted to me and I planned on covering every inch of ice before leaving the premises.
A whirring sound caught my attention. As soon as I skated in a full circle, no melodic chords containing a deep primal bass could hide my disgusted groan.
I’d thought the Zamboni technician had already finished.
I was very careful to ensure I didn’t interfere with his time on the ice because the last thing I wanted was to have any complaints made to senior management about my use of the ice.
I watched him work for a few seconds. It appeared he was staying on his end of the rink. Maybe I could get in a few more minutes before needing to leave. A skater and a huge, glorified ice scraper going at the same time wasn’t in the skater’s best interest.
Being flattened wasn’t on my bucket list today.
Trying to ignore it even though the behemoth drowned out the music, I could still hear the sultry chords in my mind as I threw my arms out, allowing the incredible breeze to tickle my skin as I crossed from one side of the rink to the other.
The whir of the engine was getting closer. When I spun around the outside, I threw my head over my shoulder. Jesus Christ. Was the guy heading straight for me? I moved in a serpentine pattern, waiting for him to pass.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he slowed down to the point he was barely moving and he was way too close. There was no doubt he could see me. What did he think he was doing? Trying to create pancake batter for the afternoon?
Ugh.
I waved my arms to try to garner his attention.
There was no response other than he was inching even closer.
The music suddenly stopped mid chorus. Fantastic. Maybe this was my cue to leave the building. What was I saying? I wasn’t the one who’d ignored the rules. The Zamboni driver wasn’t supposed to be on the ice.
Now I was furious. The guy was either stupid or blind. So I skated closer, refusing to be afraid of the massive piece of equipment. The driver suddenly stopped, leaving the engine idling.
So did I.
“What in the hell is your problem? I was skating. This is my time.” I started to say I’d paid for use of the rink, but that would be a lie.
He didn’t move. The big lug of a man sat hiding underneath a big, puffy parka, including a hood that covered half his face. I glared at him, shifting a few inches from one side to the next on the skates.
The bastard still wasn’t moving.
There was nothing worse than a strict silence and in the icy environment, nothing echoed, the only sound the rumble of the engine. My entire body was tense as fury continued building, pushing me into a place I didn’t want to be. Hateful. Vengeful.
Fine. I’d just fucking leave.
“You win, fucker. Until next time.”
Taking a wide berth, I trudged forward toward the exit, disgusted I’d allowed whoever it was to win. That wasn’t like me. Maybe I was just exhausted from the physical fight earlier in the day. Or maybe the despondency I’d experienced for years had returned in full force.
I chose to blame the jerk who’d not only interrupted my lovely afternoon but who’d also destroyed my flowers. Now I’d need to wait until the next payday to purchase more. Asshole. At least I could wrap all my anger and hatred around one man.
Even if he’d been a hot man.
Why, oh, why a single tear had formed, threatening to leak from my right eye I wasn’t certain, but whoever the asshole was on the Zamboni, I certainly wasn’t going to allow him to see that he’d upset me. When I was almost to the exit, the second track of the music I’d selected began to play.
What the hell?
There was no way the system had stopped and started again and certainly, the dude driving the ice-smoothing machine wasn’t controlling the sound system. I skated to a stop, sticking the tip of my blade into the ice while slowly looking over my shoulder.
The Zamboni was still idling.
Maybe I was making something out of nothing, but I could swear the person was challenging me. When he revved the engine, I was positive I was right. As a favorite part of the music inched closer, I half laughed, mostly to myself and wiped the useless tears from my eyes.
Well, why not be reckless for a change?
Since I was thirteen years old, I’d been told I couldn’t do anything stupid. I couldn’t go out with my friends. I couldn’t go to amusement parks. I couldn’t go dancing or to the prom. I couldn’t go to the beach or camping.
I couldn’t have fun.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t skate.
As far as I was concerned, I was due a little recklessness.
Fuck it. I began to skate. Within seconds not only did I feel the music, I could smell it in the air, the vibrancy of the deep bass, the tribal beat of the drums. Every gothic and haunting chord sent chills through me.
My blades skimmed across the smooth ice, a light fog floating ever so silently toward the metal rafters.
In refusing to allow the horrible person to interrupt my precious time, I was driven back into the beautiful moment of freedom.
With my arms out, I lifted my face toward the ceiling, daring to be that girl I’d always wanted to be.
Then another noise shattered my inner fantasy.
I’d be damned if the motherfucker wasn’t trying to destroy what little happiness I grabbed as my own once a week.
Once a week. Was that asking for too much?
The whir of the engine indicated the massive machine was closer.
As hard as I tried to ignore that it seemed to be following me, after a full minute I couldn’t any longer.
Turning, I did something unthinkable in my mind, at least for me.
Even with the glove on, I offered the driver my middle finger.
While I couldn’t see the guy’s face, I was positive by his size he was a huge man, likely laughing at me. Hmmm… What did I usually do when some jerk was laughing at me? I didn’t back away. That was for certain. Why would I now? Skating backward by a few yards, I beckoned him with both hands.
“If you can handle the heat,” I yelled.
Now it was a little fun. This time when I skated away, I did so on the front points of my blades until the music hit a crescendo. Then I let go, half skating, half dancing to the powerful chorus. When I was in a zone, nothing could stop me.
Not even an asshole on a Zamboni.
While I’d been certain he was trying to be the big he-man, using his big balls to make me stop, I was surprised to find out I was wrong.
When he moved the machine forward, I laughed softly and flew into a double lutz.
The moment I came down, I twirled, both arms over my head and I looked toward the ceiling.
When I started to move again, I caught sight of the driver. It took me a few seconds to realize what the guy was doing, but when I did, a strange tickle shifted down my spine.
He was doing everything in his power to mimic my actions.
With a huge, powerful machine.
I shifted how I skated so I could watch what he was doing, even altering my moves to simpler ones that could be imitated.
And he did.
Moving back and forth almost gracefully.
Turning in a full circle then shifting directions and doing it again.
How was that even possible?
Within a couple of minutes, I was enjoying myself, shocked at the man’s skill. In another few minutes, I was laughing, finally unable to continue skating.
I threw my arm out with my palm up. “You can stop now.” Leaning over, I was forced to catch my breath. It had been a long time since I’d had such a workout. Beads of sweat trickled down both sides of my face even with the frigid temperatures inside the arena.
The guy was keeping the engine idling. What was he doing?
While laughing, the moment I lifted my head to try to catch a better look at him, a sudden, extreme lightheaded feeling slammed into my system. Stars appeared in front of my eyes and my legs were wobbly.
Oh, no.
Down I went.
Everything happened in slow motion. While I heard the engine being cut off, the sounds of footsteps pounding on the ice, I couldn’t react quickly enough before crumpling toward the ice.
“Oh, my fucking God. Are you okay?”