“Perfect. Oh, God, I’ve never been in such a thing. Can it crash?”
The guy opens the door for me and takes my money. He shrugs. “Sure. But I’ve never seen it happen.”
“Reassuring,” I mumble, one leg already inside. “And generally speaking? I mean, statistically? How safe is…”
The door shuts. Great.
As soon as the gondola begins to move, I begin to feel queasy. I wouldn’t say I suffer from a fear of heights, but…the thing creaks. And creaking things a couple of hundred feet in the air are suspicious. The same reason I’ve always considered people getting onto a Ferris wheel with big smiles on their faces to be masochists.
I clutch the cold bench and try not to think about whether my body would ever be found in the mass of snow before my limbs would be covered by frostbite. But, paradoxically, the higher the gondola climbs, the more my heartbeat slows.
It’s the view that causes my fear to stop. Aspen’s mountains are just so beautiful. They don’t leave any room for negative feelings.
Without really being aware of it, I press my hand to the cool windowpane and observe the horizon. Maybe it’s up there, in the snow-covered summits, where I’ll lose my head and find my soul.
The sky above me, the earth below me, and in the middle: peace.
Stepping out at the second station, I promptly sink up to my shins in snow. Within seconds my jeans are soaked, and I decide to get myself a pair of snowpants as soon as possible. Maybe off eBay.
At present, I’m completely at a loss. In the distance I can hear children laughing and words being shouted, but I can’t see anyone. All I see is a mass of snow and, far below, the rooftops of Aspen’s houses.
“Okay,” I murmur and look at the blackboard, which has apicture like the one on my map; this one here is clearer and larger. “You’ll manage, Paisley. Let’s have a look.”
It takes a few minutes, but then I slowly manage to find my way through the crazy labyrinth of colors, symbols, and lines.
My jeans are happy to have me trudge through the heavy snow for only five minutes until I finally—finally!—reach the right slope.
Before me people are bustling about in thick snowsuits—what I wouldn’t give for one of those!—the kids making their first moves on their skis and snowboards. Before stepping onto the packed snow of the slope and approaching the closest teenager, I slowly shake the white wetness from my jeans and boots. He’s got a snowboard under his arm and is about to disappear in the other direction.
“Hey!” I raise my hand and wave, like I’m some kind of missing person who’s just been found. He doesn’t hear me. I gasp and call out once more. “Hey! Over here! Yeah, I’m the one who just yelled!” I’m breathing quickly by the time I finally reach him. Beneath his helmet I can see the tips of brown hair. It looks like he’s got that Justin Bieber cut that’s been out of style for years now.
“You know your way around here?”
Underneath the bright sky I can see that he’s blushing. His cheeks and forehead are dotted with big pimples; he must have just entered puberty. “Yo,” he mutters, without looking at me. His bindings seem to be far more interesting than I am.
“Right. Can you bring me to whoever’s in charge around here?”
He nods, turns, and tramps off without saying another word. I wade after him, carefully avoiding two kids who otherwise would have taken off my legs.
“Him,” the boy says. But before I can make out who he means, he’s gone.
With a sigh, I gaze out across the slope. Colorful snowsuits galore. All alike. Everyone is yelling over one another, laughing, children screeching with joy. It’s impossible to recognize anyone here, especially if I don’t even know who I’m looking for and…
“What areyoudoing here?”
I blink. The guy who’s suddenly in front of me, I know him. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.
It’s Knox, the snowboarder.
3
Sorry for the People I Hurt While I Was Hurting
Knox
At Kate’s earlier, I noticed the swelling in the girl’s face. I couldn’t tell then if it had to do with the dim light, but I didn’t want to take a closer look, either. To be honest, I’d overslept, was hungover, and didn’t want to concern myself with anything beyond my aching head.
But what I thought I saw earlier this morning couldn’t be any clearer now. The swelling is red, if not already turning green. Whatever the cause, it’s clear it didn’t happen all that long ago.
