Leaving Tracks

by Victoria Escobar

  “The scores for the short program.” It announced.

  I watched North’s face come up in surprise. I noted he had already started to change. It was a good sign that he assumed he’d be doing the long program and began to change.

  The cravat had already been removed and the collar opened up. Ice blue gloves covered his hands and he was in the process of knotting a scarf in the same color around his waist.

  “The skater has earned a fifty two point two six in the short program.” The scoreboard behind me split the score in technical and component scores with the deduction number and total.

  North winced and rolled his shoulders and studied the score while wiping his eyes mostly clear of the smoky makeup. I liked the look on his face. He took the low score as a challenge to do better.

  I hit the switch for a shortened warm-up. He was already loose but since I had notes I wanted to make I needed the brief time.

  “Skaters, please take the ice for your two minute warm up.”

  I used the two minutes to clip on a fresh score page, check the sharpness of my pencil and make some observation notes on the short program sheet. I didn’t watch North stretch out a second time. Instead, I watched the people in the bleachers once my notes were done.

  Morgaine was talking to Wesley who was watching North. Glory was leaned back, casually relaxed as Avala spoke to her. She was nodding to something then shrugged.

  “The two minute warm up has ended. Skaters, please clear the ice.” The automated voice informed. I reset the switch so I wouldn’t forget to do it later.

  “Skater please take your position on the ice for the free program.”

  North was nodding to himself as he took position. He stood in an almost squat with his right knee resting on the heel of left skate. And his hands crossed over his face. The moment the music started so did he.

  I couldn’t help but smile at Vivaldi’s “Winter” on piano and I couldn’t recognize the other instruments but it was beautiful. Then not quite a minute in it softened into… I hummed along recognizing the song but not quite pulling the words to mind until the bass or cello entered the melody. The song from the new Disney movie, I realized. The one that just won the recent awards. The medley of Disney and Vivaldi was beautiful and North used its fast pace to his full advantage.

  I almost forgot to score as I watched. He had certainly taken the low score to heart and was trying his damnedest to not repeat it. The quad triple combination was a surprise. Many Senior skaters couldn’t manage a quad, and even though it was only a quad loop, it had been flawless. He had touched the ice on a second triple Lutz again, but the score from quad loop-triple Salchow combination would buffer the point deduction. When Vivaldi closed out the song, I already knew what my decision would be but I’d keep it to myself for the time being.

  North bowed once more to his applause and to me before skating off and sitting heavily into the chair close to the gate. I entered my numbers into the system and let the automated voice announce as I unfolded myself from the table and walked over to North.

  “The scores for the free program,” the automated voice announced, “the skater has earned one hundred and thirty four point seven five in the free program.”

  I saw North smile and nod. He should be pleased. It was a good score that many skaters never achieved. However, if he had the skills of a Junior skater he could have added ten to twenty more points to both scores.

  Wesley and Morgaine reached North before I was halfway across the space. I frowned at what looked like an intense argument between the brothers that Morgaine was trying to mediate. Wesley wasn’t having whatever Morgaine was calmly trying to explain, and North seemed to completely ignore his brother.

  Everyone went silent when I was within hearing distance. Wesley seemed furious with me but I couldn’t fathom why. North tilted his head and watched me but said nothing. They waited on me.

  “If you don’t mind I’d like to go over North’s numbers with him,” I said to the older siblings. “I’ve not eaten yet, so after I was going to come mooch from Avala.”

  “It’s not mooching.” Morgaine retorted. “It’s your home too. I’ll let Avala know.” She grabbed Wesley’s arm and dragged him with her.

  North stood and offered me his chair. “I’ll get another one. Hold on.” He disappeared for a moment into the gym then came back with another chair. He sat next to me and waited.

  “I’ve got some score sheets here. Do you know what the abbreviations are?” I began.

  “Yeah, for the most part.” North answered and began unlacing his skates.

  I sighed. “I’d really like you to pay attention.”

  “Sorry, just want to put my boots back on since I’m done skating for today.”

  I waited patiently for him to make the switch. “As I was saying,” I began again when he was done, “I’ve got some score sheets here. There are some numbers I think you’d like to see. As an IFS or USFS judge–I’ve been both briefly–my scores are always lower than the lowest of the other judges. I expect more I suppose. So I have my score here, and what I believe, and I’m pretty good at estimating, a regular judge’s scores, their lowest and their highest. Based on that, I also calculated the running average that would probably come from the other three to seven judges.”

  “Huh,” he said as he studied my meticulously detailed sheets. “I know my Lutz is a little rough. But there are technical points removed why?”

  “Junior and Senior skaters are required to perform double or triple Axels. You did neither. I am aware, based on your lake skating, that you probably don’t know it, but if you want to be taken seriously, and judged seriously you need to know that can cost you major points.”

  “I see that.”

  “I’ve also made notes on my thoughts in the side there,” I pointed to the margin, “for you to read at your leisure and some of it is free suggestion and coaching. As I told you yesterday, I’m going to consider and deliberate for the rest of the day, and I’ll let you know some time tomorrow of my decision.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  I stood and North stood with me.

  “Thanks,” he said, “for taking the time out to watch and give me this.” He waved the paper. “I appreciate it. Every little bit helps.”

  We walked outside together, North turned towards Graton land and I took a few steps towards the house before stopping and backtracking.

  “My offer to use the rink is a standing one. If I choose not to coach you, you still have an open invitation to skate here whenever you’d like.” I told him when I reached him. “I mean, even if I don’t…I’d still like you to use the rink.”

  He studied my face a moment before leaning down and kissing my cheek as softly as he’d kissed my forehead yesterday. “For luck.” He murmured and walked away.

  My hand rose of its own volition to touch the place where his lips had been. I watched silently as he walked away.

  North

  I thought about Hadley as I walked back to my studio to complete the rest of my day. Her eyes sparkled when she was amused. I hadn’t expected that, but I had seen her amusement when she kissed my cheek for luck. The complete loss of focus her amusement had caused was of course, my own fault.

  I’d also seen her sincerity when she spoke of the rink. I wondered what she meant when she had said she’d still like me to use the rink. Since she couldn’t skate any longer, perhaps she just wanted to be close to it. And certainly if she tried that out on the circuit that she once ruled, she’d be pitied or ridiculed for her loss.

  Why did I kiss her? I shook my head disgusted. For luck? I laughed at myself. Hardly. Her eyes had been dark and measuring when I had stepped back. And her skin had been soft. I shouldn’t think about it too long or I’d go mad wanting to see if the rest of her was just as soft.

  I dumped my skating gear in an empty box next to the door before getting down to work. I’d take them into the house later, after the morning routine was finished. And the routi
ne would help settle me back into place.

  I booted up the computer and then let it go through its thing while I checked the items I had fired a couple of days ago in the kiln. I actually had three kilns, of varying sizes and type for different projects. The tunnel was for dishware usually, and had to be watched like a convict when it was loaded.

  My favorite to use was the front loading intermittent kiln. I programmed it accordingly and it did what it was supposed to do. I had left it to cool for a while because of the high temperature glazes. There had been times when one day hadn’t been enough and I had the burns on my arms to prove it. I hoped nothing had cracked as it cooled to the sixty-eight degree room temperature.

  After wheeling a cart from the packing space and through the swinging airtight door, I gently pulled the heavy kiln door open and studied my work. Best batch yet, I thought as I began systematically emptying the kiln. I sorted them as I worked separating particular pieces from others. After closing the empty kiln, I wheeled the cart over back to the packing area. After I checked the molds and refilled the oven, I’d photograph and pack all the items, and then shelf them. Wesley would take the picture upload and update the website.

  I emptied the cart onto the staging table then parked it back where it belonged in the corner next to the shelves. I began to hum along to the music the computer began to play as it finished turning on. I had set the media player to start with windows. Against the wall inside the production space, and on either side of the archway, were more carts. I grabbed one then began to systematically inspect and load the cart with items that were deemed ready for firing.

  Once the kiln was going again, I checked my molds. Some of them rested at an angle against the wall and some of them sat completely upright with the pour spout open to a bucket to catch the spill under them. There were some I knew would be very dry by now–my experiment with animal shaped pots–and some that would need turned and left to dry another day–the three foot decorative urns for a custom order.

  Once the molds were handled, turned, and what needed extracted done, I set up my glazing table with my newest experiment. Twenty-one already fired without glaze pots stood waiting for attention.

  Before I started glazing though, I had something I wanted to do. I went over to the computer and did some research. Hadley had asked if I went to college for ceramics. I wanted to see what it would take.

  I was patiently painting glaze into the carved designs of some pots when Wesley came in. I didn’t see him at first as I was completely focused on the icy layers I was carefully spotting onto a pot. There were a dozen already lining the drying shelf and nearly that many still waiting to be glazed.

  My hands were steady and competent. I knew exactly the look I wanted and was patient enough to get it. The mask I wore was a blessing against the fumes of the glaze I used. When I turned to dip my brush again, Wesley stepped into my line of vision. I nodded at him and set both pot and brush aside. Then I stood, stretched, and walked over to my brother.

  “What’s up?” I asked as I removed the mask.

  “Just wondering when you were going to come in and cleanup for dinner?” Wesley stated. “And I set your papers on the desk.”

  “Yeah? What time is it?” I walked through the arch to the desk. I studied the revenue sheets. “Ooh, I made five hundred dollars last month.”

  “Well, you did gross a little over fifteen hundred but your expenses are high.” Wesley replied. “And it’s almost six.”

  I rolled my shoulders again feeling the tightness of the muscles from hunching over the glazes all afternoon. “I want to finish these pots. Can you just make a plate and I’ll heat it up?”

  “It’s Sunday.” Wesley reminded.

  I sighed. The sacred Sunday dinner must be maintained. “Let me close up my glazes and I’ll be in.”

  “Ten minutes. I’m sending Thierry out if you take more than that.” Wesley replied, “And leave the inventory. I’ll deal with it later.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  Hadley

  I restarted the free program video again. I had lost count how many times I’d watched it already. That wasn’t the point. Knowing what steps should be taken was. The knock on the doorframe drew my eyes away from the video. Glory smiled and came in to plop in a chair.

  “What do you think?” I asked and turned to shut the video off.

  “It’s different than Georgia.” Glory smiled mischievously. She knew what I was really asking just as she knew I wouldn’t mind the tangent.

  “Colder, certainly.” I replied and leaned back in my seat.

  “Hands down. I’m nervous about school tomorrow. Rhett just called over to the house and told me he’d be leaving at quarter till eight if I wanted a ride to school.”

  “You agreed?”

  “With Avala staring at me I didn’t have much of a choice.” Glory shrugged. “Avala insists it’ll be good for me.”

  “Well, at least you’ll know a face.”

  Glory shrugged again. “I guess. Not that I’ll have any classes with him. He’s a grade up but I’m a grade ahead? The school was weird about my tests. I can’t help that I’m smart and I’m not going to act stupid for anyone.”

  “It’s still good you know someone.” I told her, “And you shouldn’t change who you are for anyone. School included.”

  “Yeah, whatever. It’s nice though, being here. Instead of in Georgia. I like the kennels and spending time with Morgaine in the greenhouses as well. I’m learning more here.”

  “It’s quieter,” I commented. “Slower paced.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, there’s a lot going on.” Glory gestured to my screens. “You gonna coach him? You watched both programs.”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “They weren’t really clean skates. A little reckless in spots.”

  “Would you?”

  “Would I what?”

  “Would you coach him?”

  Glory pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t know. I’ve seen you work with some confidence troubled skaters and it looks like miracle work but he’s missing some skills. Even I noticed that.”

  “Yes. I’m debating whether that’s worth it or not.”

  “Can you debate over dinner?” Glory popped up from her chair, “Avala and Morgaine came back a few hours ago with a nice size chunk of ham. It smells up the house and I think Avala’s going to kill me if I steal another taste.”

  “Dinner?” I frowned and looked at the clock. It ticked merrily and announced with its merry bells even as I looked at it that it was six o’clock. I’d been at the desk all afternoon.

  Glory shook her head, “I would worry if I didn’t understand you better.”

  “Come on.” I stood. “Let’s go eat.”

  I snuck, as best I could in the creaky house, into Glory’s room. We had a tradition when it came to the first day of school. And like any good big sister, I wasn’t about to ruin good tradition.

  Glory wasn’t a morning person and as such, slept until the last possible minute. In this case, that would have been until seven thirty, even with Rhett coming at quarter till. Would have been if I hadn’t decided to uphold tradition.

  “First day of school! First day of school!” I shouted at the top of my lungs and bounced onto Glory. “First day of school! First day of school!”

  “Don’t you grow up?” Glory growled and shoved at me and tried desperately to cocoon deeper into her quilts.

  “Up! Up! Time to get up! It’s the first day of school!” I let my sister have the blanket and substituted the bouncing with shaking violently. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

  “This is not,” Glory began irritated from under the blankets, “the first day of school. If you could read a damn calendar you’d know this was the forty second day of school.”

  “First day at this school!” I continued in my best cheerleader voice. I had never been a cheerleader, no time with skating practices, but I had seen enough to c
omplete a decent mocking interpretation. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Or no crepes for you!”

  “Crepes?” Glory sat up suddenly knocking me over and nearly sending me off the other side of the bed. “Who’s making crepes?”

  I smiled smugly at Glory and resisted, barely, the urge to buff my nails on my sweater. “I might have mentioned to Avala that your favorite first day of school meal consisted of crepes with peaches, and vanilla cream. There is of course coffee to go with it. That is if you get down there before I do.” I climbed over Glory and ran for the door.

  I had a head start but Glory was faster. She shoulder bumped me in the doorframe and pushed passed.

  “My crepes.”

  I laughed the whole way to the kitchen.

  After Glory had eaten and ran upstairs to change for school, I stepped out onto the front porch to watch the slow rising sun. North would be just starting his morning chores. I had to figure out the right words to use when I went to see him.

  The truck pulling up the drive drew my eyes away from the red orb in the sky. It was a fairly new truck and looked safe enough. It was difficult to tell exact year under the mud but I was certain it was fairly new. It didn’t look rusty, and it didn’t squeak or make any noise that would alert to “old” or “broken and patched”. Not that I knew much about trucks or vehicles in general. I could drive, that was about it, but still. I wanted Glory to be safe.

  Rhett parked and stepped out nervously. “Ah, morning Ms. Becke.”

  I instantly winced. “It’s Hadley. I’m not much older than you, I imagine. Glory was throwing on some clothes when I came out. She’ll be along. You’ll drive respectably? And no recklessness?”