Disarranged (6 page)

Grace makes a little salute, and I zip my jacket up and salute back. I leave, taking the elevator. The giant fires in the lobby hearths are just being stoked by the staff, so that's how I know just how early it is. Half-awake people stumble around looking for coffee and pulling on scarves and hats to face the coldness of the day. I grab a doughnut from the free breakfast counter and head outside. The cold nips at my cheeks and instantly makes my nose run, but I pull my scarf higher and rush to the Piroux lodge. The sun is barely rising over the east mountains, and unlike the last few days the sky is a flawless blue expanse with not a cloud obscuring the incredible mountain view. The lifts are working, steadily taking the earliest and most hardcore skiers up the mountain and to the more difficult runs. The beginner group is once again in front of the lodge. Today the fat German couple waves at me, and the redheaded woman even nods at me in greeting. Morgan runs up to me, a smile bright on her face.

"Hey! You're late!"

"Sorry, sorry!" I slog through the snow and shoot an apologetic look at Felix. He's decked out in more appropriate snow weather gear, now - a big puffy jacket and a warm-looking beanie hat. He shrugs in my direction.

"If you're late again, I'll fine you. We can't keep all these fine, eager learners waiting now, can we?"

He's so deadpan I don't know whether he's serious or not, and apparently neither does the circle. They all go quiet, Morgan nervously shifting from foot to foot, as if experiencing secondhand embarrassment for me. But Felix's mouth pulls into a tiny smirk, and he snickers.

"Just kidding. Let's get going."

The blanket of silence cracks and dissipates, and Morgan eagerly skips alongside me as we line up for the ski lift. It slows to a stop, and this time Morgan instantly stares upwards, determined not to look down and scare herself. I nudge her proudly.

"Hey! Look at you! You're not scared at all, anymore!"

"I'm still scared!" She protests, accidentally glancing down. She instantly freezes, and I reach out a mittened hand and tilt her chin up again.

"There you go."

"Th-Thanks," she stutters. "That's a lot better."

"You'll get there someday," I say. "But for now, it's okay to just look at the sky. Sometimes I even do it when I'm not scared."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I glance up at the perfect porcelain blue. "When life gets too overwhelming, or scary, I just look at the clouds and stuff. It makes me feel a lot smaller, and then my problems get really small, you know?"

She nods, vigorously. The lift screeches to a halt suddenly, and Morgan clutches at my arm.

"W-What's going on?"

I look to the station - we're still a good half-mile away. "I'm not sure. Hold on."

I scan around at the other lifts. Felix is just below us, and he waves and cups his hands around his mouth, shouting.

"Fixing a gear!"

I nod, and turn back to Morgan. "It's okay. They just found something they have to fix."

"Are we gonna fall?" She whispers, her grip on my arm like a vice. I pat her hand.

"Don't be silly. See those cables?" I point. "Those are steel wire, hundreds and hundreds of steel wires woven together in one big cable. Those won't snap unless a really huge tornado comes through. Do you see any really huge tornados?"

She looks around at the horizon, and then shakes her head.

"So, we're safe!" I conclude. She still shakes and shivers uncontrollably, so I offer my hand. "Here. You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better."

Morgan nods and puts her hand in mine. Her mittens are still pink, and the heat from her palm radiates into mine. It hits me then now young she is, and how scared she really must be. How brave. Her parents leave her alone with the nanny all the time, in foreign countries. To face a strange place with someone you don't know looking after you - that takes a lot of guts and a refined ability to trust. She's such a brave, amazing little girl, and I feel humbled just sitting by her. She's braver than I can ever dream of being.

After a few harrowing minutes, the lift begins to move slowly. Morgan exhales, relieved, and I mimic her. She frowns at me and playfully hits my shoulder. I pretend it hurt, bad, and she laughs. When we're on solid snow again, I feel my anxiety drain away and be replaced by something more sinister, and real. The nausea in my stomach I felt yesterday hits me with full force, and I vomit nearly on my own shoes. Morgan looks concerned again, and Felix lazily calls over to me.

"You alright, kid?"

"Kid?" I immediately grow flustered. I wipe my mouth and get ready to hurl an insult at him just as my stomach decides to hurl again. I vomit a little more, and Morgan pats my back as if trying to comfort me. Felix rolls his eyes and jogs over.

"Look, if you're not well enough to be out here -"

"I'm fine!" I protest. "Just give me a second. Do you have any water?"

He opens his arms and turns in a circle. "Uh, hello? We are surrounded by water."

"Ew," Morgan wrinkles her nose. "My mom said to never ever eat snow."

"But this is great snow," Felix sighs. "It's the French Alps! You won't get it much fresher than this."

I roll my eyes and take a handful of snow and mash it into my mouth. I get brain freeze, but my nausea recedes as the cool water makes its way down my throat, and the nasty taste gets washed away. Morgan watches me in half-horror. I wave Felix away, and he returns to teaching the redhead woman how to come to a quick stop. He might look young, but he clearly knows how to ski, and has been doing it for years - his finesse putting on the skis and handling them is in the same level of grace of the pros I saw in the lodge. Morgan pulls on my jacket.

"Isn't it nasty tasting?" She asks. I shake my head.

"Nah, but it'll give you a nasty brain freeze. It actually kind of tastes nice."

Morgan frowns, staring at the snow at her feet. She grasps a bunch and stuffs it in her mouth quickly, like she's afraid she'll chicken out. She squints and massages her forehead, wincing. When she swallows, I nudge her.

"Told you!"

She sticks her tongue out at me, but smiles. "It's really not that bad!"

"Told you times two."

She laughs, and shuffles over to Felix. He instructs us that today we're going to go down a slightly higher hill than the one yesterday. We watch the redhead lady go down first, and then the German couple, who somehow miraculously manage not to fall over and roll the rest of the way down, today. This time, Morgan seems a lot more scared of the hill. I assure her I'll go first, even though when I get to the edge of it I immediately regret that promise. The slope is a lot sharper than it looked. I take a huge breath, and Felix pats my back, nearly sending me over the edge. I gasp and totter, and when I'm steady again I whirl to face him, all fangs and fire.

"Excuse me! I was taking my time!"

"Sorry, sorry, you just looked like you needed some moral support," He drones.

"I don't need any of your -" As I wave my arm to point at him, I tip myself over and go flying down the hill. My stomach falls up and my breath punches out of my lungs as I scream, the speed of the hill correlated to the sharp incline. I'm going so fast the trees blur, and the end of the slope is rapidly approaching. I manage to calm down enough to remember how to slow down in case of a high speed, and position my feet. I steadily slow, and nearly face plant into the snow with relief as I come to a stop by the German couple, who shout congratulations in guttural German and thump me on the back.

Morgan is next, and I'm relieved to see Felix treats her with much more care. She's as graceful coming down as ever, and we all cheer at the end line for her. She smiles, cheeks flushed bright with the cold weather and a reddish glow of accomplishment. Felix follows her, and comes to a stop in front of us.

"Good work, guys. Thanks for listening so well."

"You best instructor, Felax!" The German man bellows. "Danke!"

"I definitely notice an improvement in my own skills," The redhead woman says softly. Morgan nods in agreement.

"It's only because you guys are so good." His voice is incredibly monotone. It's impossible to tell if he's saying things ironically or sarcastically or not! It infuriates me just a little more than it disturbs me. Who knows what he's thinking.

Felix gives us the rest of the day to ski the beginner slopes, but warns us off the Alligator - the steepest and sharpest incline on the beginner route. Morgan and I mess around, she showing me tricks she's picked up and me showing her how to build the perfect snowman. We're halfway through the middle portion of his body when Morgan's face grows serious.

"Are you sick, Rose?"

I freeze balling up another wad of snow, and laugh. "Why would you think that?"

"You're throwing up a lot."

I dwell on it for a moment - it's probably stress. With everything going on, it's normal to be anxious to the point of gastrointestinal disturbance. Seeing Lee and Kiera daily puts me on edge like nothing else can. I can't tell Morgan that, though. It'd worry her, and she wouldn't really understand. Or would she? She's a smart little girl. But she doesn't need to be involved with my life.

As if she can tell what's running through my head, she frowns.

"I told you my problems kind of! You should tell me yours. That way it's fair."

My eyes widen, but I quickly smile. "Of course. Sorry. It's just hard to talk about, you know?"

Morgan nods, and packs more snow on the belly of the snowman. She waits, patiently looking at me until I feel the words starting to fall out all on their own.

"There's a guy I used to like. He's here, with the girl he likes now."

Morgan's mouth makes a small 'o' shape. "That sounds really hard."

"It is, most of the time," I admit. "Seeing him is really hard."

"So that's why you throw up," She chirps. "Because you're lovesick!"

I nearly choke, but manage to turn it into a laugh. "Yeah, sure. But saying 'lovesick' makes me sound kind of pathetic, don't you think?"

"Not at all! It just means you really like someone."

I'm speechless at how astute she sounds. Her words are the wise words of someone much older, someone with a lot of experience, even though it's impossible for her to have much. Or maybe that isn't true at all. Anybody, of any age, can experience loss. There's no age limit for loss. It happens to all of us, at any time, and all we can do is try to make it hurt less.

Just as I'm recovering from her insight, another shock arrives - this time in the form of a harried-looking, panicking Lee as he crashes his snowboard right into our snowman. Morgan shrieks, and I yell, and Lee comes up with a mouthful of snow, snowflakes lacing his hair and his skin wet with them. He flushes, and struggles to get out of the snow pile.

"You killed him! You killed Mr. Icy!" Morgan shouts at him.

"I'm sorry!" Lee flails. I sigh and look at Morgan.

"C'mon, let's help the murderer out of the snow."

Morgan huffs, but she takes his arm and I take the other, and we pull as he pushes. He bursts free of the massacred innards of Mr. Icy and stands, brushing himself off quickly.

"Christ, I'm so sorry, I was just -"

"Not looking where you were going," I say. "Who's going to inform Mr. Icy's family of his untimely demise?"

"He has a family?" Morgan's eyes well up with tears. I pat her hand sympathetically.

"We still have to make them. I think the murderer's jail time can be replaced with community service, don't you think?"

"I deserve jail," Lee says solemnly. "For taking the life of such an upstanding, cool guy."

I shoot him a smirk for the pun, and he makes a tiny smirk back, but rapidly becomes serious again when Morgan stamps her feet.

"C'mon then, murderer! You help with the rolling, too!"

Lee and Morgan and I work side-by-side, Lee obediently following Morgan's every incensed order with surprising gentleness. When Morgan runs off to find branches for the arms of the two complete snowmen - one female and one a baby - I turn to Lee.

"I had no idea you were good with kids."

"I had no idea you were such a harsh judge of crimes," He sighs, and holds up his red, raw hands. "My hands are frostbitten. I’ll never paint another picture again."

"Stop being a baby," I laugh. "They're still attached to you, so you're fine."

He rubs them together. Before I know what I’m doing, I grab his hands and rub them in my own mittens.

“No mittens?” I frown. “Why’d you come out here without protecting your hands?”

He’s quiet, and it’s only when our eyes meet do I realize what I’m doing. I pull away instantly, my hands warming up from where they touched his. 

“Sorry. Just, you know. Don’t be an idiot. Get some proper cold weather gear before you skate.”

“Is that worry I hear in your voice?” He asks softly.

“I always worry.”

“Don’t. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah? Your eye bags say otherwise.”

“I get them from worrying about you,” He says. “Can’t blame me.”

“Don’t worry about me, either. I’m more than capable.”

Lee glares at a far-off figure. I follow his gaze with my own and find him glaring at Felix.

“You really don’t like him, huh?” I ask. Lee’s about to answer when Morgan runs in-between us, hitting Lee’s knees to get his attention.

“Hey! Lift me up so I can put the sticks where their nose should be!”

Lee chuckles, and lifts her by the waist. Morgan plants two stubby sticks into the snowman faces, and when he puts her down she’s practically glowing with pride.

“You did great,” I say. “They look like real people.”

Morgan’s quiet, staring at the snowmen before pointing at Lee and announcing; “This guy killed your dad and husband. He’s the bad guy.”

Lee sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “I’d beg forgiveness, but I don’t think they understand any language other than below freezing.”

“They can too, idiot! They can understand English and French and –”

“Morgan!”

Morgan starts at the authoritative voice ringing out over the snowfield. We all turn to see a man and woman striding towards us. The man’s hair is silver-streaked, and the lines in his face are deep, with the kind of strict businessy expression old rich guys seem to cultivate. The woman isn’t any better off, but she’s considerably younger, with platinum blonde hair and a perfectly symmetrical face with bright green eyes and a proud chin. Morgan’s chin.