Miracle Girls: A Novel

by Anne Dayton

  I turn around and look at Riley. She rolls her eyes, then tosses her backpack onto one of the beds. The flowered bedspread bounces up and down for a second.

  “I take showers at night,” I say to fill the silence. “Are you a morning person?”

  “Whatever.” She flops onto her bed, closes her eyes, and slips her headphones on.

  “Look, I didn’t exactly request this either, but we’re stuck here, so let’s at least make this as painless as possible.” I drop my bag onto the empty bed. “I’ll shower at night, and you go in the morning. We’ll eat at different tables. We’ll stay apart during the day. We’ll hardly have to see each other at all.”

  She lies still on the bed, pretending she can’t hear me.

  “Riley, your iPod isn’t even turned on.” I take a deep breath and blow air out through my nose. She doesn’t move.

  Okay, God. I sit down slowly on the edge of my bed and look around. Ha ha. You’ve got us here. Nice job. Now please keep us from killing each other.

  I wait for a moment, hearing nothing, and especially not Riley’s iPod. God apparently doesn’t feel like talking today, because I feel nothing except an overwhelming urge to go home. I lie back on the bed, pushing my bag out of the way, and stare up at the ceiling.

  Maybe if I stay really still, they’ll forget I’m even here. They’ll go on with worship and meals and skiing all weekend, and I can just lie here. I think about how nice that would be, and then my mind wanders and I realize that somewhere in this lodge, Dave and Tyler are sharing a room. My stomach warms a little, and I try to focus my mind on that, but without warning it goes to Maria. She looked so pale when I saw her in the hospital yesterday. What if she never gets better? What if she dies while I’m gone? I feel a cold sensation in my stomach, and it takes me a minute to recognize it as fear. Please God, I pray, be with Maria.

  “Hey, Riley?” She doesn’t move, and I wait. Okay, maybe it’s better if she doesn’t react. There are worse things than being ignored.

  But I can’t sit here anymore. I won’t be able to go out there and deal with people without knowing Maria is okay. I try again. “Riley? Can I borrow your cell phone?”

  Riley doesn’t sit up or open her eyes, but she slowly reaches her hand into her bag. She pokes around inside, then withdraws her phone and tosses it carelessly onto my bed.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly, but she doesn’t respond.

  31

  “You don’t need lessons,” Tyler says, sliding up to me, dragging his snowboard on one foot.

  I feel puffy, and I feel cold, and I feel like I’m about to fall over at any moment, but when I see the brilliant white snow all around me, I can’t help but get excited. The mountain is gleaming, and the sight of the bright green trees against the gloriously blue sky is breathtaking. I’m just waiting for Jamie to come out of the rental center. We’re going to ski school together.

  Dave comes up behind Tyler, looking a lot more confident on his snowboard. “Come with us. We’ll teach you.”

  “Uh, I don’t think . . . I mean, that’s probably not a good idea.” The last thing I need to do today is die on a mountain.

  “Come on, Dominguez. I’ve been skiing since I was five, boarding since I was eight. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” I know it’s crazy, but Dave looks so sincere that I start to waver. Maybe I don’t need to waste my time in lessons, being humiliated next to kindergarteners. If Tyler and Dave teach me, I can skip all of that. Will they teach Jamie, too?

  “Hey, guys.” It’s Riley, and the chipper tone of her voice tells me she doesn’t realize it’s me. Under all these layers of puffy clothes and with my hair hidden under my ski cap, I could be anybody. “What’re you doing?” She skis up next to Tyler and stops short by sticking her hips out a little bit. I try moving my hips, too, but I realize that since I’m not going anywhere I probably look pretty foolish. She’s wearing a tight ski suit, sky blue with white trim. I hate myself for it, but I feel a little jealous. Mom ordered my ski pants and coat from a catalog just a few weeks ago, but I didn’t even know they made outfits that don’t make you look like a blimp.

  “We’re about to teach Ana how to ski. Come on.” Tyler nods his head toward the line for the ski lift. Her smile falls when she sees me. “You get to explain the snowplow,” Tyler says, pointing at her skis. Since Riley is the only other person on skis, she probably will be the most useful person to me today. Fabulous.

  She looks me for a second. I can see her weighing her options; then she rolls her eyes and starts to follow Tyler, who is dragging his snowboard, still strapped to one foot, over to the lift.

  “You coming?” Dave nods toward the lift.

  “I’ve never done this before, you know.” I bite my lip.

  He smiles and holds out his arm. I reach for it and grab it with both hands to keep my balance, my ski poles going every which way. I move my right foot forward, then slowly, I slide the left one up too. I look around, but Jamie is nowhere to be seen.

  “I need to tell Jamie I’m not doing lessons.” I scan the crowd for her. Maybe I can just yell across the way to her? Is she out of the ski rental place yet?

  “No problem,” Dave says. Dave gently pries my hands off his arm so I have to stand up on my own, then walks quickly to the rental area, and a moment later comes back shaking his head. “I said she could come with us, but she’s going to take lessons,” he says, shrugging. “Wimp. Now off we go.” He moves along slowly beside me as I fumble my way toward the line. After a few yards, I get better at sliding along on these things. Hey, I’m starting to get the hang of this. We get into the line behind Tyler and Riley, and I watch the ski lift to try to figure out how it works.

  “It’s no sweat. Just sit down when it comes around.” Dave points at a five-year-old successfully getting on the lift. Great, no pressure.

  “I can do it.” I nod and try to look confident.

  ***

  I can do anything. I feel like I’m on top of the world. Well, I actually kind of am. I’m standing on top of a mountain, and it feels great. Tyler and Riley are already making their way over to the left, away from the ski lift. We follow them, and I don’t lose my balance or feel like I’m going to fall once. I am starting to feel pretty good on these things. They’re like really, really enormous feet. I don’t know why I thought it was so hard.

  We approach a small ridge, and before I can even ask what to do next, Tyler and Dave are clipping their feet into their boards and Riley is getting into what can only be described as some kind of “go” position.

  What about my lesson? I clear my throat. “So, um, the idea here is . . .”

  “To get down the mountain in one piece.” Riley smiles a sugary-sweet grin at me.

  I watch Dave. I can tell he hasn’t heard me because he’s still concentrating on his snowboard, uh, strap thingies.

  “Okay, Ana. Just point your skis down the mountain and turn when you want to slow down. It’s easy,” Tyler says.

  I stare at people on the ski slope we’re about to try out—which, by the way, is named Brady’s Folly, not exactly a good sign—and see how other people are doing it. It’s just as Tyler described. You go a little while and turn. Go and turn. Okay, I can do that.

  “Here I go.” Tyler gives Riley a high five and the two of them take off down the mountain. Predictably, Cheerleader Girl is an amazing skier. She leans out over her skis just a bit and glides gracefully over the snow. Some soft powder sprays from around her skis. Tyler is a bit of a wobbly snowboarder, but he’s getting down the slope without falling.

  This is it. Baptism by fire. I line my skis up at the ridge, point them at the bottom, take a deep breath, and chant to myself, “Go and turn; go and turn.” I close my eyes, say a quick prayer, and push forward.

  “Dominguez, wait,” Dave says, but it’s too late. I’m flying down the mountain. I laugh a little as I pick up speed. This is fun! The world is flying by me, the trees zipping by faster than my eyes can register t
hem. Whoa. You go a lot faster than I thought. Okay, no sweat. All I need to do is turn. I try to turn, but realize in a flash of panic that I don’t know how. Up ahead, I can see the trail turning and a row of trees coming toward me at a very fast clip. I try to turn again, but my skis start to cross, and I straighten them somehow. Whew. I look up again and realize that I’m going to hit the trees if I don’t do something. I’m going to have to stop myself. There aren’t any hand brakes on these things, are there? At the last moment, I do that only thing I can think of.

  I lean over to the left so far that I make myself fall down. I hit the ground with a heavy thud, then roll over a few times, tumbling down through the snow. I begin to wonder if I’m going to tumble all the way down the mountain, when I finally stop rolling. I sit up tentatively.

  Nothing appears to be broken. My right ski is about ten feet away, down the hill, while my left ski is still somehow attached to my foot. I sit there for a moment, stunned and cold.

  Tyler snowboards over to me. “Whoa, that looked like it hurt!”

  Riley roars up next to him, her eyes wide.

  Dave slides up next to me with precision. “You okay, Dominguez?”

  “I . . . I think I’m okay.” I pat my head, as if to see if it’s still there.

  Tyler goes down to fetch my ski, then unclips from his board, and starts to walk back up the mountain to bring it to me. I cringe as I watch how much effort it takes to do this. “Thank you!” I yell down to him.

  “Alright, up you go. Let’s get back on the mountain again.” Dave gives me a hand and helps hoist me back up on my one good ski. I flail my arms for a moment, like a toddler. This is so humiliating.

  “When you need to turn, lean up on the edges of your skis. They’ll dig into the mountain.” Dave motions to Riley who demonstrates her cool hip shift move again, digging the edges of her skis into the snow.

  Tyler comes up with my ski and his board, huffing and puffing. “I really owe you.” I feel so bad for him.

  “No big deal.” He’s acting like it’s no big deal, but he’s clearly a little winded.

  I take the ski from Tyler’s outstretched hand and struggle to push it back into place on my boot. Dave ends up unclipping one of his feet and bending down to help me. As he’s grabbing my boot and pushing it into the binding, I feel so cared for that I can’t help but smile a little. I grasp my poles and dig them into the ground.

  “I’m fine.” I reposition my feet so they’re pointing downhill again and nod.

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell you about the snowplow,” Dave says. “That’s your backup if the turning thing we showed you doesn’t work. You need to position your feet like a piece of pie.”

  Riley shows me this move. She looks like the most pigeon-toed person in the world.

  “It doesn’t look pretty, but it works. It will slow you way down,” Dave says. I move my feet to mimic Riley’s and nod. Weird. I never knew there was anything more to skiing than pointing my skis down the hill. This seems like something someone should have told me before I got to the top of a mountain.

  “Ready?” Dave watches me from underneath his black knit hat, his lips red from the cold. He needs some Chapstick and I have to fight the urge to hand him mine. Focus, Ana. Tyler and Riley shove off and weave their way down the hill again.

  “You go first.” Dave does a sweeping chivalrous bow.

  I nod, then push off with my feet firmly planted in a snow plow. I’ll just go really slow this time so that I stay on my feet. At first it works, but then in a flash, my skis become crossed. I get tangled up and fall over to the side. This fall is less spectacular, and I quickly grab my skis and snap them back on with a little help from Dave. Tyler and Riley are waiting for me far below, squinting back up at us. I push myself up again and try again, and this time I get a little farther before I panic as I see a curve up ahead. I still have no idea how to turn.

  I fly through the air this time, and, perversely, I have time to think that the flying part is kind of fun before I hit the ground. I sit up slowly to see Tyler and Riley watching me with concern. I’m almost disappointed. If Riley was annoyed about having to stop repeatedly for me, I think I could handle that, but her pity is almost too much to bear.

  Dave slides up next to me and plops down. “You okay?” I see the worry etched on his face.

  I nod. Tears sting my eyes, but I push them back. I can do this. I can learn to ski, and I won’t let my frustration show.

  “The flying part is kind of fun,” I laugh, but it sounds hollow, and I can tell no one believes me. “I’m going to get it this time.” I try to sound optimistic, but it’s really more of a command. I have to get it this time.

  The next time I fall, a little ways down the mountain, I start to feel really bad for everyone else. Every time I fall, they have to stop. This can’t be much fun for them. Groups of skiers pass us on the trail, staring at me. Rubberneckers. I try to ignore them.

  When I fall again, I don’t move for a while. I need to get my emotions under control before I sit up and show everyone that Ana Dominguez is not only a bad skier, she’s a crybaby, too. The snow feels good against my face. Maybe I’ll just stay here.

  “I’m sorry,” Dave says, plopping down next to me again. “It’s my fault. This is no way to teach someone. I should have known better. When we get down, I’ll take you to the bunny slope and show you how to do this right.”

  I nod, keeping my face firmly against the cool snow. Behind us, I hear a low growl, but I can’t bring myself to move even though I’m obviously about to be run over by a snowmobile. The noise stops just beside me, and I’m not totally sure I’m grateful to have been spared.

  “Everything okay?” a deep voice says, and I turn my head just enough to see a man in a red jacket with a white cross on it bending over me. I nod. “You need a ride?” he asks. I push myself up.

  “I’m fine.” I look down at Tyler, who seems a tiny bit annoyed. Riley waits patiently, staring down at the snow. No one says anything, but it suddenly occurs to me that it would be much, much better for everyone else if I swallowed my pride, rode down on the snowmobile, and let them ski in peace. Dave bites his bottom lip. I know that getting on the snowmobile will mean giving up, and that’s something I really don’t want to do, but I kind of think that for the sake of everyone else, it might be the right thing to do. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and nod. “I’ll take that ride,” I say quietly.

  The snowmobile driver reaches out his hand and helps me stand up, then sits me down on the machine. His auburn hair is slightly long and floppy, and he’s kind of cute, but I don’t have the energy to care. Dave hands me my skis, and I tuck them, along with my poles, under my right arm, then grab onto the back of the driver as he sits down.

  I look down at the ground as we drive away so I don’t have to see their pity.

  32

  The main door to the lodge shuts hard, and I turn to listen. Someone stomps her way down the girls’ hall and slams a door, but I can’t see who it is from where I’m standing. I highly suspect it’s another person done in by the miserable sport of skiing. I find a spatula, carefully pry one of the cookies I baked this afternoon off the sheet, and then put it on a paper towel. I’ll just take this to the poor soul and make sure she’s feeling all right. We’ll laugh, compare bruises, and then tomorrow I’ll have a friend at the lodge because I’m never skiing again. I round the corner of the kitchen and nearly run smack into Judy.

  “Ah!” I scream and the cookie goes flying.

  “Ana!” Judy jumps too. “Oh, gosh.” She walks across the room to pick up the warm cookie. “Sorry about that. I forgot you came back.” She takes it into the kitchen and throws it in the sink. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I take a deep breath. “That’s okay. It’s just so quiet in here and . . . I was bringing you a cookie. I made them.” I motion proudly at my big accomplishment.

  Judy glances at them. “Ana, can we have a word outside for a moment
?”

  My heart falls. She didn’t even look at my cookies.

  Judy walks quickly outside. She seems distracted as I grab my coat from the rack by the door and follow her to the front porch, where I perch on a chair. I suspect this porch is a lot more fun in the summer, when youth groups come up here to fish and hike and whatever else you do in the mountains in the summer. The Dominguez family only vacations at manicured beach resorts.

  “Ana, I need your help.”

  I brighten up. “Happy to help. Hey, that’s why I’m here, right?” After the words leave my mouth, I remember that technically I’m here to ski and be a kid or whatever, but since I can’t ski, helping is a great way to spend my time. Plus, I might go crazy if I have to spend another day locked in that lodge alone.

  “Something’s happened in Riley’s family. I just told her.” Judy’s face goes dark, and for a moment I realize how hard it must be to be in charge.

  I grab my arms as my teeth begin to chatter. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

  “Good, thanks. So you’ll stay with Riley for a while?”

  “What?!” I yell, and Judy gives me a withering look. “I mean, why?” I say, trying to recover.

  “She needs company right now. And I have to go back to the mountain in case of emergencies. Fritz, too.” Judy glances back through the glass door, craning her neck to see if she can see anyone inside. “I’m going to tell you what happened because I think you need to know so you can help her, but you can’t talk about it with anyone else unless Riley brings it up herself.”

  I lean in. Oh, please, God. Don’t let anyone in Riley’s family be dead. I may not like the girl, but I know all too well how scary it is when someone goes to the hospital.

  Judy takes a deep breath. “Her brother is missing.”

  I gasp as my heart falls.

  “He has Asperger's syndrome, which means he’s mildly autistic. He wasn’t in his bed this morning, and they think he wandered off. Her parents are out of their minds with worry. Her aunt will be here to get her soon.”