Egghead

by Caroline Pignat

  Katie and I ski down the ramp and pass the guy. His skis are pointing in opposite directions, but they are on at least. He's bent over, snapping up a boot. Red threads are falling out of his pom-pom.

  He barely made it down the ramp. How the hell will he survive the actual hill?

  I'm surprised someone that inexperienced would be dumb enough to ski without taking lessons first. He sits up.

  It's Egghead.

  Somehow, I'm not surprised at all.

  Katie

  I figured Shane was behind the ant farm disaster, but I had hoped Devan wasn't.

  How could I like someone like that? I thought, watching him ski down the ramp. Someone like Shane.

  Shane and Brad swerved in front of me forcing me to stop.

  "Comin', Dev?" Shane asked, looking right at me.

  Devan hesitated.

  Just then Will flew past us looking like a seizure on skis, poles swinging, skis shuddering as he picked up speed.

  "Snowplow!" I shouted over the laughter of the chair-lift spectators. He might have tried to turn his tips together, but he ended up crossing them and flipping face first into the snow.

  I skied over to see if he was okay. His face was red raw, bleeding in spots where ice had grazed. The snow plugs rammed up his nostrils were quickly melting. He looked stunned. Thankfully, he hadn't really hurt anything other than his pride.

  "Here." I offered a hand, but he shrugged me away. He dug in a pole and tried to stand. "Will, try turning your skis—"

  "I know, I know," he said, though I seriously doubted it. He obviously didn't even know enough to not get up when his skis faced downhill. Within seconds, they'd shot out from tinder him and he was flat on his back.

  Shane, Brad, and Devan stopped beside us spraying snow in Will's face. Shane picked Will's hat and pulled out a loose thread.

  "Give it back," Will said, finally on his feet.

  "What—this?" Shane shook it. Bits of porn-porn scattered on the snow. He pulled another thread. Stitches around the top began unravelling.

  "Don't!" Will cried. "My mother made you're wrecking it!" He lunged at Shane, forgetting about the skis on his feet until they tripped him up.

  Brad laughed.

  "Just give him his hat, Shane," Devan said.

  Shane stared at him in shock. Then his eyes narrowed. Devan's jaw clenched; he didn't look away.

  "If you want it so badly, Egghead, go get it," Shane said pitching it over the ridge and down Devil's Hill. The weight of the porn-porn carried the hat until it slid to a stop halfway down the moguls. He looked back at Will. "Whaddya say? You chicken?"

  "What came first, the chicken or the Egghead?" Brad flapped his arms. "Brawk, Brawk."

  Will stood. He looked between Shane, the hat, and the hill, like he was actually considering it. There was no way he could do it, not Will, not in one piece anyway. What was he thinking?

  "Devil's Hill is an advanced run," Devan said, nodding at the sign. "It's not for beginners."

  Shane glared at Devan. "That's right," Shane said, turning back to Will. "We could all do it. But not a chicken spit like you."

  "Bwawk, Bwawk," Brad clucked.

  "Heck, I'll even give you ten bucks if you do it," Shane said, as if ten dollars meant anything to Will. "Who knows," Shane added to clinch the deal, "you might even win back your girlfriend too."

  Everyone stared at me, even Will. My mouth opened to say, "I'm not his girlfriend," but I caught myself this time and closed it.

  I wanted to scream. To shout out how retarded everyone was acting, especially Will. That he didn't have to prove anything to anyone, that everyone knows a beginner shouldn't ski Devil's Hill, that he was acting like an idiot! I should have told him I'd get his damn hat, but I didn't. I kept quiet.

  I looked at Will standing on the edge, and I never said a thing to stop him.

  William James Reid

  The Peak

  At the peak

  of panic,

  every animal

  must choose between

  fight or flight.

  I am afraid

  of doing something.

  I am afraid

  of doing nothing.

  At the edge

  of action,

  every animal

  feels that fear.

  It's what we do with it

  that counts.

  And I am tired

  of

  being afraid.

  Devan

  "Holy crap! He's going for it!" Brad says.

  Egghead takes off. He hits the first mogul hard, and doesn't have a chance to get his balance before slamming into the next. He's swinging his arms and poles in crazy circles, doing everything he can just to stay on his feet.

  It would have been better if he hadn't.

  We all see it coming. Even Shane stops laughing as Will ricochets off that last mogul and straight into the—

  "TREE!"

  I don't know who shouts it. But I'll never forget the sickening cr-r-r-a-ack! as Egghead hits. It sounds wrong. Way wrong.

  His ski jams into a low branch, bowing his leg as his body twists. Something snaps. He drops flat on his back and slides over a few moguls. Up and down. Up and down, like he's floating on a white lake.

  He's okay, I tell myself. Just resting. Just fooling.

  "NO!! Someone get the ski patrol!" Katie screams, and races down the hill.

  Shane takes off for the chairlift shack. I follow Katie, thankful that she knows the run. The hill is even steeper than it looks. All that matters is getting to Egghead, even though a part of me is afraid of what we'll find.

  "Don't move him." Katie kneels beside him taking off her mitts. He's still, too still. She leans over and listens at his mouth, then touches his neck for a pulse.

  "Is he—?" I can't even say it.

  "He's breathing."

  I take a breath, surprised I was holding it. Then I take off my skis. The snow crunches loudly under my boots as I step in closer.

  Egghead's eyes are closed. A wicked golf ball lump is growing on his forehead. Blood, a lot of blood, is running from his nose and the cuts on his cheek, turning the snow beneath into cherry slush. But it's the blood slowly dripping like red candle wax out of his ear that freaks me out.

  He lost one ski; the other is broken. If it did that to his ski, what the hell did it do to his bones? His legs bend where there are no joints making his boots stick out at weird angles. My stomach churns and my head spins just thinking about it.

  Get a grip, Dev. I look away and breathe deep, hoping the cold air will keep me from throwing up or passing out. Not knowing what else to do, I bend over and pick up his hat.

  Oh yeah, you're a great help.

  Katie lifts his eyelids with her thumb. One eye looks as if it's having a pupil eclipse.

  "Will," she says in a calm voice. "It's Katie. You've had an accident. But the ski patrol are on their way. You're going to be okay, Will." She touches his left cheek, about the only thing that doesn't look hurt. "You're going to be okay."

  I hope he hears her. Maybe she's given him some kind of hope, even if we both know it's a lie.

  He isn't going to be okay. Ever.

  Katie

  It felt like forever, but the ski patrol finally came and took over. They bound his legs, strapped him to a backboard and tied him to a sled before slowly maneuvering down the rest of Devil's Hill. Mr. Panetta waited with an ambulance at the bottom.

  I just wanted to sit somewhere and cry. My hands were still shaking. Oh God, Will, I thought as the paramedics slid him, sled and all, into the back. Be okay.

  Shane and Brad joined Devan. I took off my skis and walked over, not sure what I wanted to say. But I had to say something.

  Devan still held Will's hat in his hands. I snatched it away and glared at Shane.

  "You ... you owe Will ten dollars," I said, my words like ice. "He made it to the bottom. He made it " my voice cracked. I stared at each of them. "You owe him.
"

  Devan

  The look on Katie's face kills me.

  I want to tell her she's wrong. That I didn't do anything. Shane did it all, the underwear, the ant farm, and now ... this.

  But I don't say anything. She is right. I do owe Will.

  Shane did the pushing, but I'm guilty, we all are, for letting him. I stood by all those times, just watching Will get pushed over the edge. I didn't do anything. And that is why I owe Will.

  The siren screams to clear a path. I jump at the sound, my heart pounding in my throat as I move over and watch the ambulance roll by. As a kid, I always got a kick out of seeing ambulances with their sirens wailing and lights flashing. How dumb. Especially now that I know what they really mean.

  Now that I know the person inside.

  Shane watches the ambulance pull away. A strange look flickers across his face and then it's gone. He clenches his jaw and goes, "What an idiot. Leave it to Egghead to—"

  "Will!" I snap. "His name is Will."

  Shane looks at me in surprise. For the first time, he doesn't have a comeback. Or if he does, he's keeping it to himself.

  I head to the ski lodge, thinking about the hurt in Katie's eyes. And the look in Shane's. I wonder what it was. Fear maybe. Or guilt.

  It's hard to say. I've never seen it on Shane before.

  Katie

  Over the next couple of weeks we wrote exams. We won the basketball tournament. We sold tickets to the Valentine's dance. We had fire drills and food fights. For students at St. Patrick's High School, life went on. But for one student, life was on hold.

  Will closed his eyes on that hill, and he hadn't opened them since. He was in a coma.

  I visited him nearly every day after the accident. He looked small, broken. Like a bird fallen out of its nest. The doctors had him hooked up to all kinds of machines and contraptions. His head was bandaged, his legs in slings and casts.

  I always stopped in on my way home from Dad's room and just stood there, like an idiot, at the foot of Will's bed. I don't even know why I went. I never spoke to him. Will didn't even know I was there.

  "Hey, girl," Maureen said, coming in to check the monitor. She turned a few knobs, checked his eyes, and wrote on the chart. Not that there was ever any news. It had been a few weeks and nothing changed but his bandages.

  "You know, Katie," she clicked her pen and shoved it in her pocket. "Will is lucky to have a friend like you."

  I tried to smile. If only she knew.

  "Comatose patients wake up just like that," she snapped her fingers. "After months or even years—" She paused and looked away. "I mean ... well, just keep coming."

  I nodded.

  "We're doing everything we can for him," she said. Nurse talk for: it's up to Will now. "And I'm no doctor," she walked around the bed and patted my shoulder on her way out. "But I always say it's what they have to come back for that makes all the difference."

  I watched him sleep. What has he got to come back to?

  School? Not likely.

  His family? Maybe. But I didn't think his dad was doing too well. I saw him in here last week, just as I was about to go in. He was slumped in the chair, head in his hands. "I can't do this, Melanie;' he cried. "I can't. Not again."

  It must have been so hard for Professor Reid. He was truly alone. His family lived in England. At least I had Granny. At least Dad was getting better—well, kind of. The professor's grief was still so raw, even now, two years later. I wanted to say something to give him hope, maybe share how Dad found strength after Mom died. Dad said I gave him a reason for living. But if he lost that reason, too,, I thought looking at Will, bandaged and bruised. What then? I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob, ashamed to be witnessing something so private. Knowing the professor would not want to be seen this way, I stepped back into the hall and closed the door.

  I stood at the foot of Will's bed. Maybe all he had to come back for was friends. A friend. Me. I was Will's closest friend. If you could call me a friend.

  Who needs a friend like me?

  "Will," I said softly. I walked to the bedside and put my hand over his. "I'm sorry. I let you down. I said things I never should have and never said something when it really mattered. But I just want you to know I ... I care about you. Go, or come back. The choice is yours, Will." I squeezed his hand. "I just hope somehow you know you aren't alone."

  Two days later, Will made his choice.

  William James Reid

  Mom

  You can't stay,

  she said.

  It's not time.

  I'd thought I'd forgotten her face.

  Seeing it now,

  I remembered

  what I always knew.

  I love you, Will.

  She never touched me.

  But I could feel her.

  Smell her.

  Almost hold her.

  She was only

  one small step

  away.

  But it was a step

  I wasn't ready

  to take.

  She smiled.

  It made everything okay.

  The light faded,

  but I heard.

  I knew.

  I hope somehow you know you are not alone.

  Devan

  "'S'up Dev?" Shane says, shadowed by Brad. They slide onto the caf bench across from me. "We coulda used you last night. We were short a player."

  I shrug, say something about my dad needing my help sanding something. I've been hanging around with him in his workshop a lot lately. Funny how I'd rather do that than be with Shane and Brad. I guess things are different now.

  Or maybe I'm different.

  No one ever mentions Will. But I can't get the guy out of my head. Or Katie.

  I look over at her eating lunch all alone. She looks sad, smaller somehow. Like this whole thing has knocked the wind out of her. I think I know how she feels. I wish I could tell her. I wish I could just talk to her and see how Will's doing, how she's doing. I wonder what she'd do if I tried?

  "Dev? You listening to me?" Shane says, blocking my view. He's frowning. Like it's a crime to ignore him.

  "What? Yeah, sure. whatever." I bite into my apple.

  "So it's all set then." Shane smiles that smile. The one he wears when he gets a wicked idea. "I got the stuff in my locker. Meet you there in five minutes," he says and then heads out of the caf.

  Brad gives me this look, like he knows something I don't, and grins.

  Katie

  "Is it true? Is he really awake?" Jenna scooted beside me on the empty bench. I chewed my tuna sandwich, trying to swallow it and the fact that Jenna was talking to me. I'd given up tagging along behind her and Isabella. They made it clear three was a crowd. I'd been spending my lunch hours reading, sitting all alone in a quiet corner in the stairwell. Besides, I wasn't interested in hearing the latest Mike report. Who cared if he got grounded, ate Lucky Charms this morning, or made the first string? Other than Jenna, of course.

  "Yeah," I said. "He woke up a few days ago."

  "Were you there? What was his first word?" She leaned in wide-eyed, way too interested for someone who hadn't asked about him once since the accident.

  "Mom," I mumbled. "But I ... uh ... I wasn't there when he—"

  Jenna stood. "Mom," she said, running back to her table where Isabella and the girls waited. "His first word was Mom." Everyone at the table stared at her, hungry for more information. Jenna spread it thick.

  "Who?" Mike said, coming up from behind to hand Isabella a paper bag. "Here, dweeb. Ma put your lunch in my-knapsack again."

  Jenna's face glowed like a stoplight. "Uh—"

  "Egghead," someone said.

  "Oh yeah?" Mike looked at Jenna, then started to leave.

  "Yeah," Jenna blurted. "But I bet he's got amnesia." Mike stopped. "Well, he must have anyway, 'cause he asked for his mom, right?" She leaned in and looked around as if she was trying not to let everyone hear. "And she died two
years ago."

  The girls gasped. "How?"

  "Hit by a car," Jenna said, pausing for effect. "Will was with her. Saw the whole thing. It would have hit him, only she pushed him out of the way. She was in a coma for a few days too. Only she never woke up."

  "Wow." Mike whispered, looking down at Michael scrawled in blue marker across the brown paper.

  "Yeah." Jenna smiled, totally loving that she was having a conversation—a conversation—with Mike Montana. "That sure explains why he's like that, eh?"

  I couldn't take another word or bite. "Yeah." I snapped, throwing my lunch in the garbage, "So what's your excuse?"

  Truth was, I had no excuse either. Why was I acting like this? This wasn't me. No wonder everyone was avoiding me. But the question was, why was I avoiding Will? He'd been awake for three days now and still I hadn't been to see him.

  The day he woke up, Maureen dropped by Dad's room with the news. Granny and Dad cheered. Dad even put on his slippers and started wheeling his IV to the door to go and visit Will right then.

  But I just couldn't. It was much easier to visit him when he was sleeping, when he never knew I was there. I still hadn't apologized to him. Maybe he didn't even want to see me. A jumble of feelings boiled in the middle of my chest and spilled down my face in hot tears. I couldn't stop.

  "Maybe later, eh?" Granny had said. "Probably got his dad in there with him now, and doctors and such running tests." She looked at Dad over her glasses. "No need to be overwhelming the child."

  We all knew she meant me.

  Jenna's face went deep red. If there was a line, I had just crossed it. I had humiliated her in front of Saint Mike. I didn't wait for an answer. I just turned and walked out of the cafeteria as Mike's laughter and Jenna's glare followed me down the hall.

  Devan

  Shane pulls two large jars out of his locker. "I've been saving these for the right moment?' He grins at Brad. "And it's now."