of them.
The wind is still, almost as though creation is holding its breath. Mitch and I step up to board the ski lift. My pulse beats against my temple. My hands feel clammy inside my gloves, and I’m tempted to take them off, but fear holds me perfectly still.
It would be a cinch to board without the skis, but when you have contraptions the size of California redwoods attached to your feet, well, it changes things, that’s all.
I dare a glance at Mitch. He’s smiling and waving at friends. His eyes dance; his face glows. This lifestyle agrees with him. Me, on the other hand? Let me serve hot coffee, throw around a few balloons and I’m in my element.
“Here it comes,” he announces, causing my stomach to flip.
I’ve seen people do this on TV. They step in place and allow the lift to scoop them on board. I watch Mitch, and he takes the same stance. I follow suit. The lift takes me unaware, but I’m on and that’s half the battle. I hear Mitch let out a contented sigh.
“Isn’t this great, Gwen? I’m actually running a ski resort here.” He scans the area in almost disbelief. For a moment, I forget my worries and concentrate on him. I want this to work. He’s a nice guy. I mean it. Aside from the fact he’s gorgeous, and my heart somersaults with the sight of him, he’s truly a nice guy.
“You’ve got a great place here, Mitch,” I say, keeping my eyes on him and thinking how great it feels to sit next to him this way. True, I’m holding the bar in a death grip, but at least I’m sitting here. Hopefully, I can let go when the time comes to get off.
I finally look around, not down, mind you, but around. “You know, something else that would be cool is sleigh rides. I think kids would like it, and couples would enjoy it in the evening.”
He smiles. “That’s a good idea. I’ll have to check into that. Oh, speaking of kids, I wanted to talk to you about Friday. Someone told me we may have a high school class coming in. Knowing how kids gravitate toward coffee shops, I’m thinking you’ll be plenty busy. Lisa will be here to help you, and Candace said she could help with the schoolkids if you need her. She’s not going home until Saturday.”
I nod. I see the top of the slope approaching, and as long as I keep my eyes lifted forward, I think I can do this.
“Hey, look, somebody wiped out,” Mitch says, pointing almost directly below us.
Without thinking, I follow his gaze downward and see a dot on the slope. The lift rocks a little with Mitch’s movement. As I bend slightly to see the skier, I notice my dangling feet, and the reality of where I am and what I’m doing hits me like an avalanche. My pulse bangs hard against the backs of my eyes. I break into a cold sweat. Vertigo takes over. My right hand grabs the side of the lift while everything around me starts to spin. My left hand clutches Mitch’s arm in a death grip.
“Gwen, what is it?”
I can’t talk. Everything around me is spinning. I can’t tell if I’m up or down, and I know we’re approaching the top of the hill. I think I’m going to die. I’ve not written out a will yet. Guacamole will become a ward of the state.
“Gwen? What is it?”
“I—I—I’m going to be sick,” I manage through clenched teeth.
“Sick?” He says the word as if I’ve hit him in the face with a snowball.
By now I’m terrified. I’m all out of balance. What if I slip forward? I hold my breath for fear the slightest whisper can cause me to fall. I try to focus on Mitch’s face, which looks the way mine feels, but I can’t stay there long. His face keeps swirling around me. I try to close my eyes.
“Hold on to me, Gwen. Do you want to get off at the top, or do you want to risk riding this back to where we got on?”
I feel myself slipping. My arms tingle; my neck is wet beneath my hair. The thin air makes me gasp for every breath.
“Gwen, hang on! I’ve got you.” Mitch grabs me hard against him.
I’m going to fall. I know I’m going to fall. I should have stayed in my classroom, on the ground, on precious soil. I slip another notch. Oh God, please help me.
“We’re getting off here. I’ve got you, Gwen. Everything will be all right.”
I hear him, but his words blur with the clouds around me. His fingers press through the layers of my clothes and pinch my ribs. I clutch his leg.
Mitch must have motioned to the lift operator, because I sense that the lift has stopped, but things around me continue to spin.
“Come on, Gwen, let’s get off here,” Mitch says, trying to pry me loose from the lift.
“Don’t touch me.” I hear the sharp growl of my voice and wonder how that could have come from me. My mother would be appalled.
“Gwen, you have to let loose. You’ll be fine. Let me help you.”
The only way he can pry my fingers loose from the bar is to chop off my hand.
Mitch has jumped off the lift, and I’m almost doubled over sideways. “I’m not getting off. I want to go down to the base,” I say. I can’t stay up this high. I’ll never make it. I’ll freeze to death or fall, or even worse, become bear bait.
“Hey, you guys all right?” the operator wants to know.
“She’s sick but wants to stay on and go to the base.”
“You want to ride back with her?” he asks.
“Absolutely. I can’t leave her alone this way,” Mitch says.
“I’ll start it up again and radio down to the attendant at the base. He can watch for you and stop the lift so you can get her off.”
“Thanks, man.”
I hear what they say, but I can’t steady myself. My stomach’s churning. I feel as though I’m trapped inside a kaleidoscope. Colors swirling all around me. Swirling, swirling.
“Can you lift up a little, Gwen?” Mitch’s voice sounds distant—as though he’s in a faraway tunnel.
I raise my head slightly, and he slips in, scooting me up farther. He puts his arm around me and grips me tight against his shoulder. Under difference circumstances, I could get into this.
It seems to take forever but finally the nightmare comes to a halt. Mitch gathers me into his arms and lifts me out. I feel him carry me away.
“What’s wrong?” I hear Candace’s skis swoosh up beside us. Her voice is tight with worry.
“I don’t know. She’s sick. Something happened in the lift. Probably the flu or something.”
“Oh, no. Gwen, are you all right?”
I want to answer her, but my stomach, the dizziness, the spinning.
When we reach the B and B, the episode subsides. My world sits upright once more, and the avalanche in my stomach begins to quiet. Granny
