Free Angel by Phil Cummings

of them pass through him, melting them just a little, just enough to make them sloshy, so that they splattered on impact! He zapped everyone with the odd energy ball to keep the game going longer and he ran from side to side to even things up. But he spent most of the time helping his embattled father defend himself. There was a frenzy of scooping, digging and patting. The battle raged.
    â€˜It’s not fair,’ Rob whined. ‘Two against one.’
    â€˜Don’t be a whinger, Dad,’ Shane cried between giggles.
    David sped to his father’s aid by melting the next snowball he threw and directing it straight at Shane’s face.
    Shane saw it coming but no matter how he ducked, the sloshy ball was not going to miss its target. To Shane’s complete astonishment the snowball followed his every move. Left, right, up, down. It was like a heat-seeking missile!
    When it hit Shane, it sploshed into his face in a sloshy explosion. It didn’t have the sting the others had had. David spun himself in mid air and laughed. He enjoyed that. Shane wiped his wet face with the sleeve of his coat, all the time amazed at his father’s incredible skill. His eyes flickered open to the sight of his laughing father holding his hands high above his head.
    â€˜I surrender! I surrender!’ Shane called.
    In a tumbling pile of laughing bodies theHamiltons sat and recalled the highlights of the great snow fight. David sat with them, pretending he was part of the conversation.
    â€˜What about that sloshy one I got Shane with?’ he said to the space between himself and his mother.
    He stopped and stared at her. A strand of hair cut across her red cheek. Her shoulders shook as she laughed at something Shane said. She was looking down at him. David knew that look. The way she held her head, her smile, her eyes … her soft warm eyes, the colour of mud. He slowly reached across the space between them and rested his hand on her shoulder. She felt the warmth through her bulky clothes and the distinct shape of a hand. She looked smartly at her shoulder, then rubbed it curiously.
    David smiled at her and said, ‘I’ve got to go, Mum.’
    Jenny looked across the snow, then skywards,all the time gently rubbing her shoulder. The warmth faded as David drifted away.
    When they could all stand, the Hamiltons wandered off together towards the resort office, chatting and laughing. The office was a large open room, mostly glass and polished timber. The walls were covered with information boards and spectacular photographs of all the snow sports and some champions going through their paces. Jenny went straight up to the information desk.
    Shane and his father strolled around looking at the posters. Rob pointed to a skier jumping from a huge cliff and heading towards a steep slope below.
    â€˜I used to be able to do that,’ he announced boastfully. Then he stopped and looked more closely at the poster. He pushed his face right up to it and squinted as if straining his eyes. ‘Hang on!’ he said. ‘That is me!’
    Shane pushed his father away. ‘Give me a break will you, Dad?’
    Rob grinned broadly. ‘You wait till I get on those skis; I’ll show you a thing or two, mate. You just wait and see. I’ll be zipping down those slopes with speed and grace that will stun you.’ He began to bend his knees and tilt his body. He looked like Aunt Sue demonstrating her role as a ski instructor. ‘I can twist and turn with the best of them,’ he said, pushing his arms backwards and forwards. ‘The last time I came I even entered the slalom event.’
    â€˜What’s that, Dad?’ asked Shane, checking the face of the skier in the poster.
    â€˜You have to weave your way between those poles they put in the snow. It’s a sort of obstacle course, I suppose.’
    â€˜Oh yeah! I know what you mean.’ Shane turned away from the poster convinced theskier