Beginner

My ears caught pockets of wind as it swirled up and over me, plugging them with noise. My warm breath blew back at me inside my mask. The sun glared at me through my goggles as I looked down at the mountain spread open before me. Several skilled skiers swept past in the deep, feathery snow, making slicing noises as they turned. I continued to look, uncertain. From somewhere below, my companions called to me.

“David! What’s taking you so long? Are you coming down?”

“Yes!” I replied, not really believing my words. Yes, I said to myself, and pushed with my poles until the snow beneath my skis began to move, slowly at first, and then more rapidly.

Skiers continued to speed past me for a time. They were wearing colors of yellow, black, purple, pink, vivid cartoon rainbows on a white background. I began moving with them, picking up speed. I could see the top of the lodge now, almost black against the white, shining hills. I could see bushy towers of green all around, but, thankfully, nowhere near my path. The way lay clear before and below me. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind whistle in my ears, drowning out the sound of slicing skiers. I felt the first beads of salty sweat break out on my upper lip, preserved by my mask. I felt the rapidly grinding speed of snow passing beneath my feet.

I opened my eyes again. The small shapes of my waiting friends became visible. Although I tried, I could not close my eyes again. The skiers that had passed me earlier were now falling behind me, losing ground. A certainty was forming at the back of my mind. I concentrated on the skis. “Snowplow,” said a voice. I pointed my toes inward inside my boots, but my skis pointed directly in a straight line at my destination. The shapes of my friends took on features. Their eyes appeared disbelieving, their bodies frozen in position; one of them had already removed his skis. The snow between my skis became a blur of soft white, with a soft, dancing brush of gray that darkened ever so slightly as it moved out of sight. The certainty in my mind grew, edging forward to my consciousness. The reflected sunlight began to consume everything, the snow, the lodge, the towering trees, my friends. My other senses blurred, then sharpened. Then my sight returned, as the image of my waiting friends stood out as clear as when they had stood beside me in the rental shop, and as close. And then it hit me.

************

Pure noise buffetted my ear drums as I came to. Not the wind, this time, but voices; some were those of my friends, asking the other voices if I would be alright, the other voices answering that they would provide the best possible care for me. As I opened my eyes, my vision returned to me only reluctantly. I saw the white-flecked blue sky before me, flanked to either side by two dark haired, tan-skinned EMTs in white short-sleeved shirts. As their faces came into focus, I could make out the looks of intense concern and rushed determination on their faces and the colorful details of the medical caduceus patch on one white sleeve. I realized that they must have removed my ski goggles and mask; the glare was gone and the tip of my nose and my cheeks were burning with cold.

I could also hear and feel the crunching of snow and gravel beneath the gurney as they wheeled me to the ambulance, then a quick "thump!" as the gurney met suddenly with the back of the ambulance and I heard the scissored legs retract, then I was hefted forward into the back of the vehicle and the doors were quickly shut, "whump! whump!" with one of the EMTs crouching beside me, and the sounds of my world became the soft rumble of the ambulance's idling engine, the slight clicks, crackles, and rips as the EMT at my side deftly prepared his equipment, and the occasional fart of staticky voices from the two-way radio.

The ambulance shifted and began to move. For a moment, I could only see the metal ceiling, as the EMT had moved out of my field of vision, and I could not turn my head. I reasoned that they must have secured it to the board I was laying on. Then his serious but not unfriendly features returned to view as he prepared to administer an I.V.

"Just try to relax. You can close your eyes if you want. The ride to the hospital may take us a while," he said.

"Okay, I'll try," I said, and tried to smile. He smiled back. Just then I remembered that I had nearly collided with my friends. I tried my best to look into his eyes. "Are my friends okay?"

His smiled widened a little. "Yes, they're fine. You almost hit one of them, but at the last second he stepped back and you glanced off of him and went right into a light pole."

I allowed myself several seconds to take this in. Then, as if apologizing, I said, "It was my first time."

He laughed good-naturedly. "That's okay. The last call to the mountain we had, the poor guy had straddled a tree at a pretty high speed." I winced as he chuckled. "So don't feel so bad. Your head up here--" he tapped his forehead with a finger "--is probably a lot harder."

I smiled again and felt myself start to relax, believing I was in good hands. "You'll be alright," he said. I closed my eyes.