dropped my poles and crouched lower on my skis. At 110 kilometers per hour this was not as easy as sitting down for supper. But I had no choice.
The wire scraped the top of my helmet as I slid beneath it. I wobbled. To keep my balance, I slapped my hand on the snow. My hand bounced off. I nearly fell over the other way. I fought to stay on my skis for another hundred meters. The sky tilted around me.The snow seemed to spin. The trees were rising and falling at crazy angles. Still I did not fall.
Finally, I was able to turn and dig the edges of my skis into the snow. I began to slow down.
Just when I thought I was safe, I hit a patch of ice. My skis slid out from under me. I began to tumble and roll down the hill. I felt like a cannon ball rolling down a set of stairs.
The best thing to do in a fall is also the hardest thing to do. You have to make yourself go limp like a rag doll. If you are too tense, you can rip your muscles and snap your bones.
I waited to stop tumbling. It wasnât until I fell into some deep soft snow at the edge of the trees that I finally stopped.
I tasted for blood. Sometimes when you fall you bite your tongue. No blood.
I blinked. My eyelids worked. I wiggled my fingers. They worked too. So did my arms. And my legs. That was a good sign. If I could move all my body parts, then I hadnât broken my back.
This made me want to quit. Again. Every time I fell, I wanted to quit. Every time I stood at the top, waiting to begin another run, I wanted to quit. Thatâs what fear will do to a person. But I couldnât let anyone know I was afraid.
But this had been too close. I could have ended up like Garth who was still in a hospital. Eating jelly. Drinking warm milk. Getting yelled at by big ugly nurses.
I took off my helmet and shook my hair loose.
Then I realized something. Black wire stretched between two trees is not an accident. What if something similar had happened to Garth?
If Garthâs broken legs hadnât been an accident, there were questions I didnât want to think about.
Like who was doing this? And why?
I had my questions. But I also had something else to worry about.
The wire was still stretched between the trees. This run was closed for the racers touse for time trials. I had been the last one in our group to go. That meant I didnât have to worry about anyone else on our team. But now that I was finished, the run would be open to other skiers.
Any minute, someone else might come over the hillâsomeone who wouldnât be able to duck in time. A wire like that could kill a person.
I stepped on the bindings and popped my boots loose from the skis. I tried to stay on the hard-packed run, but running back up the hill wasnât easy. My boots kept sinking into the snow. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where the monster is chasing you and your shoes seem to be glued to the ground.
I kept looking up the hill for skiers. I was ready to yell a warning if I saw someone.
I made it to the wire. No skiers yet. My heart was ready to explode. Running uphill in snow and ski boots is hard work.
I saw that the end of the wire was wrapped around one tree and twisted tight. It would have been easier if I had pliers. But all I had were fingers and fear.
I began to untwist. The wire was heavy and stiff. It cut through my ski gloves. I kept untwisting. It cut into the skin of my fingers. Finally, I had it nearly unwrapped.
I heard the sound of skis on snow. Someone was coming down the hill!
All I saw was the shiny purple of a ski suit and flying blonde hair as the girl came over the top of the rise. She was headed straight toward the wire. Not on skis, but on a snowboard.
âStop!â I shouted. âStop!â
I was too late.
She was going fast and didnât have a chance. The wire caught her across the middle of her body.
She screamed.
I thought the wire would slice her to pieces. It didnât. She hit the wire hard and yanked loose
The wire scraped the top of my helmet as I slid beneath it. I wobbled. To keep my balance, I slapped my hand on the snow. My hand bounced off. I nearly fell over the other way. I fought to stay on my skis for another hundred meters. The sky tilted around me.The snow seemed to spin. The trees were rising and falling at crazy angles. Still I did not fall.
Finally, I was able to turn and dig the edges of my skis into the snow. I began to slow down.
Just when I thought I was safe, I hit a patch of ice. My skis slid out from under me. I began to tumble and roll down the hill. I felt like a cannon ball rolling down a set of stairs.
The best thing to do in a fall is also the hardest thing to do. You have to make yourself go limp like a rag doll. If you are too tense, you can rip your muscles and snap your bones.
I waited to stop tumbling. It wasnât until I fell into some deep soft snow at the edge of the trees that I finally stopped.
I tasted for blood. Sometimes when you fall you bite your tongue. No blood.
I blinked. My eyelids worked. I wiggled my fingers. They worked too. So did my arms. And my legs. That was a good sign. If I could move all my body parts, then I hadnât broken my back.
This made me want to quit. Again. Every time I fell, I wanted to quit. Every time I stood at the top, waiting to begin another run, I wanted to quit. Thatâs what fear will do to a person. But I couldnât let anyone know I was afraid.
But this had been too close. I could have ended up like Garth who was still in a hospital. Eating jelly. Drinking warm milk. Getting yelled at by big ugly nurses.
I took off my helmet and shook my hair loose.
Then I realized something. Black wire stretched between two trees is not an accident. What if something similar had happened to Garth?
If Garthâs broken legs hadnât been an accident, there were questions I didnât want to think about.
Like who was doing this? And why?
I had my questions. But I also had something else to worry about.
The wire was still stretched between the trees. This run was closed for the racers touse for time trials. I had been the last one in our group to go. That meant I didnât have to worry about anyone else on our team. But now that I was finished, the run would be open to other skiers.
Any minute, someone else might come over the hillâsomeone who wouldnât be able to duck in time. A wire like that could kill a person.
I stepped on the bindings and popped my boots loose from the skis. I tried to stay on the hard-packed run, but running back up the hill wasnât easy. My boots kept sinking into the snow. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where the monster is chasing you and your shoes seem to be glued to the ground.
I kept looking up the hill for skiers. I was ready to yell a warning if I saw someone.
I made it to the wire. No skiers yet. My heart was ready to explode. Running uphill in snow and ski boots is hard work.
I saw that the end of the wire was wrapped around one tree and twisted tight. It would have been easier if I had pliers. But all I had were fingers and fear.
I began to untwist. The wire was heavy and stiff. It cut through my ski gloves. I kept untwisting. It cut into the skin of my fingers. Finally, I had it nearly unwrapped.
I heard the sound of skis on snow. Someone was coming down the hill!
All I saw was the shiny purple of a ski suit and flying blonde hair as the girl came over the top of the rise. She was headed straight toward the wire. Not on skis, but on a snowboard.
âStop!â I shouted. âStop!â
I was too late.
She was going fast and didnât have a chance. The wire caught her across the middle of her body.
She screamed.
I thought the wire would slice her to pieces. It didnât. She hit the wire hard and yanked loose
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