“Excuse me, are you Jean Stevenson?”
“Yes, are you the teacher? I was just headed over that way.”
The chubby man shook his bald head. “There’s an emergency phone call for you.”
“From who?” I asked, concerned. I wondered if something had happened to Sterling. He was the only one who knew how to reach me.
The man handed me a scrap of paper. It said, “Evelyn Stevenson called.”
“Do you have a phone I can use?” I asked, feeling scared as I followed him back inside.
“Over there,” he pointed. I set my skis and poles against the wall.
I was a nervous wreck by the time Mama accepted the charges.
“It’s your grandmother.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“She went into pneumonia yesterday.”
“Pneumonia! I just talked to her and she was fine.”
“Turns out she’s had walking pneumonia for weeks. We took her into emergency last night.”
“Well, at least she’s in the hospital. She’ll get better.”
“I just came back from the hospital.” Mama’s voice shook. “Jean, the doctors don’t think she’s gonna make it.”
I swallowed. “Oh, no!”
“They’re only giving her a fifty-fifty chance to live through the night,” Mama said tearfully.
“Through the night!”
“She’s pretty weak. She’s in intensive care.”
“Can she talk?”
“Yes, but her voice is faint.”
“I want to come home. I have to be there. I’m gonna get out of here and hop a plane as soon as I can.”
“Well, call us when you know your plans. Someone will meet you at O’Hare. And Jean, don’t forget to pray.”
“OK.”
I hung up the phone, dazed.
“Aren’t you signed up for a beginner lesson?”
“Yeah, I did,” I stammered.
“I’m Joe, looks like you’re the only one who’s a beginner today. You have me all to yourself.” He looked like an average Joe.
“Hey, something’s happened. I just got some bad news. I don’t think I can do it now.”
“What kind of bad news?”
“My grandmother might be dying. I have to go to Chicago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you thinking of driving down to the airport right now?”
“My girlfriend is skiing. She’s meeting me back here for lunch. I guess I’m sorta stuck until then. Is there any way out of here? Is there a bus I can take?”
“Waiting for your friend would be the quickest way. The next bus doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning.”
I groaned.
“Take a deep breath,” the ski instructor ordered.
To my surprise, I was able to.
“I don’t like to give advice, but since you’re pretty much stuck here for the next several hours, why not do the lesson?”
“How can I think about skiing when my grandmother could be dying?”
“You don’t have to think about it. You just have to do it.”
“I guess there’s no guarantee that even if I left this minute I could get there in time.”
“I think skiing would ground you.”
“I just feel like I should be doing something.”
“Doing something physical can be therapeutic.”
“I still have to call the airlines.”
“I don’t think the airline situation is going to change in the next hour or so.” The instructor put his hand on my shoulder. “But your state of mind could change.”
“I just need something to hold on to right now.”
Joe handed me my poles. “Try these.”
“OK,” I sighed. “Let’s go.”
Carrying my poles in one hand and my skis in the other, I ventured into the sunny, snow-covered world. Having the sun shining when you’re feeling down just makes it that much harder, I thought.
“Stevie, are you a total beginner?”
“I’ve never been on a pair of skis before in my life.”
“Let’s snap on your skis.”
I stood gripping my poles. I gazed apprehensively at the snow-covered slopes. Yet the thought of learning something new gave me a glimmer of hope.
“I’ve heard that cross-country skiing is easier than downhill skiing,” I said.
“It actually takes more energy, but it’s easier to learn.”
“Cynthia said it’s just like walking.”
“Let’s just practice walking a little bit, then.”
“OK.”
I gingerly moved my feet toward a slight incline. Suddenly, I began to slip. I dug my poles desperately into the snow, but it was no use. I fell to the ground, my skis a twisted mess.
I felt frustrated and helpless. I’d fallen on the ice plenty of times growing up in Chicago. But that was different. I’d always been able to get up. Because kids are cold, they cracked up when you fell. But usually my pride was hurt more than anything else.
“I must look like a fool. I sure feel like a fool. Why aren’t people laughing at me?” I asked as folks skied nonchalantly by.
“Nobody’s laughing because all of them have fallen about a million times. And they know that if you don’t fall, you don’t learn to ski. By the way, what other people think of you is none of your business.”
“I’ll have to remember that one.” I struggled again to get up. “Damn, I feel like a paraplegic!” I moaned, attempting to raise myself, using the poles. But it was hopeless. I couldn’t even begin to straighten my legs out.
“This is really ridiculous!” I muttered as Joe stood by quietly. “It’s just like walking, all right. Yeah, if you’re about nine months old.”
“The first lesson you need to learn in skiing is how to fall.”
“Well, I think, I’ve passed with flying colors. Now, if I can learn how to get up, I’ll feel like a genius.”
“OK, turn to your right on your knees. Plant your poles in the snow in front of your face.” I did what I was told.
“Now, uncross your feet and raise yourself up.”
“I did it!” I shouted, struggling to my feet.
“If all else fails, you can always unsnap your skis and get up that way.”
“Now you tell me.”
“OK, let’s just walk a little again. Let’s head over to the beginner’s area; notice my stride.”
I tried to move my arms and legs the way Joe did. I must look like a penguin following him, I thought.
“Look, you’re skiing!”
“Yeah, I’m actually skiing!” But then I remembered Grandma and felt sad. Who cared if I was skiing when Grandma might be dying this very moment? And I wasn’t even there to tell her I loved her.
Then, I slipped again and fell.
I pulled myself up again, and got up the way Joe had taught me. But it took a lot of effort.
“You’re doing fine.”
“This is hard work, though, this falling and getting back up.”
“Yeah, but it’s worth it. You’ll see.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. Now, I’m going to show you how to go up this incline so you can ski down. And that’s when the real fun begins.”
“How can I have fun when my grandmother might be dead?”
“Would you rather sit around and worry?”
“I guess not.”
“Well, turn your skis outward like this to go uphill.”
Wouldn’t you know it, I slipped again. I fell into the snow, sideways. My hand even hurt a little. I didn’t even try to raise myself up this time.
“I don’t need this bullshit today!” I shouted. “This was a bad idea!”
“Get up the way I taught you.”
I sat up in the snow. “I feel so helpless,” I cried. “I feel so damn helpless.” I sobbed. “I might not even have a chance to tell her good-bye. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her how much I loved he
r.”
“Just let it out. I told you this could be therapeutic,” Joe said.
“I’m cold,” I shivered. I could see my breath.
“Well, try getting up the way I showed you.”
“Forget that, I’m unsnapping these bad boys.”
“You were doing great. You have to practice getting up.”
“I don’t have to do anything but stay black and die! And I can happily live the rest of my life without ever skiing again. Besides, I have never known any black person who skied. So nobody will ever expect me to ski. It isn’t like being black and not being able to dance. I mean, skiing will never even come up.”
“Who cares what other people expect of you? Do you want to live your life based on other people’s expectations?”
I didn’t answer.
“I’ll tell you an AA story.”
“What does Alchoholics Anonymous have to do with skiing?”
Joe ignored my question. “This guy asks God, ‘Can you grant me the courage to change the things that I can change?’ And God says, ‘I can do that.’ Then the guy asks God, ‘Can you grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change?’ And God says, ‘I can do that.’ Then the guy asks God, ‘Can you grant me the wisdom to tell the difference?’”
“What did God say?” I asked with curiosity.
“‘Keep coming back.
I turned sideways and struggled to stand up on my poles. I almost slipped, but I managed to stand up.
“OK, I’m ready.”
I followed Joe, slanting my skis as I trudged uphill.
I took a big breath. “Look, I’m at the top of the mountain.”
“You’re at the top of the beginner’s slope. Soon, you’ll laugh at what you called a mountain.”
I gazed down at the powdery, white snow. “Well, I’m not laughing today.”
“Stevie, bend your knees and drag your poles. Do your wedge to slow yourself down, if you need to. And just sit down if you get scared.”
I took another breath and headed downhill.
I bent my knees. I dragged my poles. I did my wedge. It was thrilling. There was no denying it. It reminded me of riding a roller coaster.
Grandma had always said, “You can’t keep a good woman down.”
I wished she could see me now, sailing through the snow, maneuvering through this cold, white world.
When I reached the bottom, I looked back with wonder.
I’d already prayed and called the airlines when I saw Cynthia. I could get a red-eye flight out tonight.
Cynthia hugged me. “I’m sorry about your Grandma. That’s a real bummer.”
“Yeah, I just hope she pulls through. If we leave after we finish eating, I’ll have plenty of time. I’m already pretty much packed for cold weather. I can just take what I have here. Besides, I’ve still got clothes back in Chicago.”
“Wait, a minute. You’re not expecting me to give up this weekend and drive you back to San Francisco today, are you?”
“Cynthia, time is of the essence.”
“There’s no guarantee that you can get there in time, no matter when you leave.”
“I know, but I have to find out. It’s a chance that I have to take. Otherwise, I might never see her alive again.”
“Is your grandmother even able to communicate?”
“Yeah, she’s not in a coma.”
“OK, let’s say she pulls through. I mean pneumonia isn’t always fatal, even in old people.”
“I have faith. She’s a fighter.”
“If she does pull through, then you would have gone through a lot of changes for nothing. I mean can you really afford to go back there now? What about your rent next month? Didn’t you put down a fifty-dollar deposit?”
“Yeah, but I just might have to lose my deposit. I can’t afford not to go. Sometimes you just have to step out on faith and take your chances.”
Cynthia sighed. “Is that being fair to Sterling?”
“I might be able to borrow the rent from my parents. Besides, that’s between me and Sterling.”
“Well, leaving today is between me and you.”
“Look, I need you to be there for me right now.”
“Sorry, but I’m not available to be there for anyone in the first six months.”
“That’s cold. I mean, what about emergencies?”
“I don’t consider this an emergency.”
“You don’t?” I bristled.
“No, and for me to drop everything to rescue you wouldn’t be fair to me. You’re not the only one with needs, Stevie.”
“You’ve already skied. It’s not like you haven’t skied at all. And even if you went back out there for a while and we left in a few hours, I could still make my flight.”
“You are sure manipulative.”
“I’m just trying to compromise.”
“Look, I just can’t be this emotionally involved this soon. You’re requiring too much energy.”
I couldn’t believe that Cynthia was being so unfeeling. I thought she had more heart. “Is it my fault that my grandmother might be on her deathbed?”
“No, but is it my responsibility? I came up here to ski. I work hard and I need to play hard. And Stevie, playing with you turns me on. But rescuing you doesn’t.”
“I feel like you’re kicking me when I’m down. I’m sorry that something ‘real’ intruded upon your playground.”
“Skiing is a passion of mine.”
“Look, I can understand why you love skiing. But skiing will always be here. My grandmother may not. Believe me, it’s hard to feel at somebody’s else’s mercy. If it weren’t someone I loved, I wouldn’t put myself in this position. I wouldn’t swallow my pride.”
“I feel like I’m being mind-fucked.”
“Just forget it then. I’m not gonna kiss your ass. I’ll get back to the Bay Area some other way. Explaining myself to you is just like throwing pearls to swine!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s face it, the quality just ain’t there.”
“You know what I think? I think you’re too self-absorbed to see anybody else’s needs but Stevie’s. Maybe you’d be better off alone.”
“I think you’re right. I would be better off being alone than being with someone and feeling alone,” I answered quietly and headed for the phone.
“I’m having trouble with my car. I think it’s just the starter. I’m gonna run it over to Grand Auto. Maybe I can borrow Derrick’s ride.”
“Whatever you can do, Sterling, I’d appreciate it. The bus won’t get me back in time to make my flight.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you down here by hook or by crook.”
“I hate to ask this of you. You’ve already done so much.”
“Look, baby girl, don’t trip. Sometimes it’s actually easier to give than to receive. I might need you before it’s all said and done. People need people. Cynthia must not be part of the women’s community. They’re usually known for being there for folks.”
“She’s into looking out for number one.”
“And let’s not forget, she’s bisexual,” Sterling added.
I lay on my bunk reading in our cubicle, in an effort to distract my mind from my worries while I waited to hear from Sterling. I presumed Cynthia was out on the snow. We hadn’t crossed paths since our big argument.
I’d spoken to Mama again on the phone. She said that Grandma was hanging tough, but she still wasn’t out of the woods yet. I’d succeeded in getting so absorbed in Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye that at first I hadn’t heard the knock at the door.
I tensed up; maybe it was Cynthia. But I wasn’t sure she’d knock. Maybe she wanted to apologize. I hoped it was Sterling coming to pick me up. Maybe it was a staffer telling me I had a phone call. What if Grandma had died?
I held my breath. “Come in.”
Traci, Jawea, and another woman stepped inside the door.
“What are you doing here?
” I asked with astonishment.
Traci gave me an exaggerated scared look. “Sterling told me about your grandmother,” she said.
Jawea hugged me. “I’ve missed you, woman. Sorry about your grandma.”
“Thanks.”
Traci cleared her throat, “Stevie, this is Kate. Kate, this is Stevie.”
I nodded at the small, hippie-looking woman with long, straight, dark hair. She smiled hesitantly.
“I called to invite you to our Annual Bah Humbug Party. And to tell you that Brenda sent us a flier about a Black Women’s Support Group she’s starting. I work on Saturdays.”
“Brenda from the Berkeley Women’s Center?” I asked, remembering the sistah with dreadlocks.
Traci nodded and handed me a rolled-up piece of paper.
“What happened to Sterling?” I asked, confused.
“He couldn’t make it,” Traci explained. “We’re here to take you to the airport.”
“You are? You came all the way up here to give me a ride?”
They nodded.
“Sterling said he’d been trying to get his car started when he ran in to answer the phone. He wasn’t sure if he could even get it to Grand Auto. Hey, that’s when I said, I owe her one.”
“We remembered how close you were to your grandma,” Jawea added.
“Thanks,” I said as tears welled up in my eyes.
“Can I get a hug now?” Traci asked. I held my arms out to her, and when we connected I felt like I’d finally let go of the past. Kate even put her hand on my shoulder.
“Sweetie, I brought you a rescue remedy.” Jawea produced a small bottle.
“Thanks, I really feel supported.”
“That’s what community is all about.” Jawea smiled.
“Kate, it’s strange meeting you under these circumstances.”
She shrugged. “When Traci asked to borrow my van, I just wanted to be a part of the effort.”
“The bug needs a tune-up. I didn’t want to chance it through these mountains,” Traci explained.
“I really appreciate your help. I mean, it’s not like you even know me,” I said to Kate.
“I know your energy,” she replied. “You lived in my room last summer. And you were lovers with Traci. We’ve shared some important karma.”
“Look,” I blushed, “I didn’t know you all were still together when Traci and I got involved.”
“Is that book good?” Traci pointed.
Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice Page 26
