Free Avalanche Dance by Ellen Schwartz Page A

…” and “die …,” then the gradual hushing of his cries, the soft footfalls padding back across the hall.
    Last night, though, their mother had been in Vancouver, and Gwen was awakened by Percy’s muffled weeping. She lay there, rigid, knowing she should go to him, unable to move. What could she say to him? How could she comfort him? So she stayed where she was, listening to every choked sob, until his cries finally tapered into silence.
    Now, he put down the cars and stood in front of Gwen.
    “Gwen?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Do you miss Daddy?”
    Gwen froze. “Yes.”
    “Me too. A lot.” A pause. “I wish I could see him. Just … see him.”
    Gwen didn’t answer.
Me too
. She longed for it. She was terrified at the thought.
    Percy put his hand on Gwen’s arm. “Gwen? Daddy’s really bad, isn’t he?”
    “Yes.”
    He swallowed. “Gwen?”
    “Yeah?”
    “What if … what if he doesn’t make it?”
    Gwen threw off his hand. “Percy, for God’s sake! What kind of a thing is that to say?”
    “But I just want to know –”
    “That’s horrible!”
    “But Gwen -”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “But what if –”
    “Forget it!
    He stared at her, lip trembling. Then he ran upstairs.
    Gwen gripped the arms of her chair, waiting for her heart to stop racing. She focused on the view. Clouds scudded across the sky like tumbling rolls of cotton. A fishing boat became a distant speck. Slowly her breathing returned to normal. She emptied her mind. No thoughts. No questions. She sat, a rock, a tree, watching the sky grow dark, watching night creep up from the horizon like a curtain being drawn upward from the edge of the earth.

EIGHT
    I pound on the door. I’m supposed to meet Cal here so we can talk to Bridget and find out what she wants me to do. But I’ve come early, on purpose, to have it out with Gwen.
    No one answers. I pound again, harder. Finally the door opens. Gwen stares at me. I don’t let her say a word. “You ratted on me!” I yell, stepping inside.
    “What?”
    “You ratted me out! Called the cops and got me in trouble.”
    Only it turns out I was wrong. It couldn’t have been her, because she was in the hospital at the time. She had been with her dad in that avalanche. How was I supposed to know?
    I turn away and Gwen closes the door. Of course I feel like an ass. She looked devastated to be accused. But there’s more to it than that, I think. She seems … weird. Not quite there. Haggard. And what’s up with that crazy, ragged haircut? I guess being in an avalanche can really mess you up.
    Now what? Cal isn’t here yet. I figure I’ll wait for him on theporch. Just as I go to sit down on a chair, Bridget comes out of the kitchen and sees me.
    “Molly!” she says. “Oh, Molly, what have you done?” Only she doesn’t say it harshly, like my mom; she says it as if her heart’s breaking. As if she had such hopes for me, and I’ve totally let her down.
    “I’m sorry, Bridget,” I say, my voice thick. “I’m so sorry.”
    She takes two steps toward me and wraps me in her arms. How can she hug me? I hug her back, fighting tears. She steps away, holding me by the shoulders. “You crazy girl! How could you be so stupid? You knew that stove was old and rickety.” Before I can answer, she says, “I’m just so glad you’re all right. You could have been killed!”
    I can’t believe this. It makes me feel worse. I wish she was mad. I wish she’d yell and scream and let me have it.
    I deserve it. Walking here today, I couldn’t avoid going by the cabin. It’s nothing but a pile of ash and scorched earth, a few half-burned boards scattered like oversize matchsticks. The woodstove, its chimney toppled over, stands in the middle of the cold ashes like a wrecked ship. There’s a smell of old, wet charcoal, like when you douse a campfire.
    I didn’t want to look, but I had to. I wanted to turn back the clock. I wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it.
    Now,