Eternal Soul

by Amy Henwood

  “Mia, you’re my friend and always will be. The last thing I want is for some boy to come between us. You are more to me than anyone else. I do ask that you give Chase a chance to get to know him better and learn why I love him.”

  “For you, that I can do.” She linked her arm through mine.

  Chase was patiently waiting for me, leaning against the corridor wall, and he kissed me upon approach.

  “I believe we have never formally met,” he said to Mia.

  I jumped in. “Mia, this is Chase, and Chase, meet my best friend, Mia.”

  “A pleasure,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand. My distracted mind could have been deceiving again, but the shake was long and theatrical like it was rehearsed. “Now, ladies, may I offer you an escort to your next class?”

  “Actually,” Mia commented, “I was considering ditching the rest of the day and asking Scarlett to go skiing with me.”

  Did she really just suggest that we skip the rest of the day? I wanted to feel her forehead and make sure she hadn’t come down with a fever, compromising her judgment. It was unlike her to suggest such a thing, but I didn’t want to turn down the opportunity to witness Mia ditching class. I turned to Chase for approval, but without waiting, he said, “Would you like me to drive you two there?”

  “I can't ask you to do that,” I said.

  “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

  “You would have to come back and pick us up.”

  “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have offered.”

  I glanced at Mia. In pre-argument time, she would have denied the offer, taking away time she would spend with her precious little car and separate herself from Chase, but in an attempt to fulfill her promise to me, she accepted the offer.

  With a quick pit stop at home to deliver Mia’s car from campus, we changed and got our gear. We had to fold down half of the backseat to weave our skis into his Civic.

  Mia had been skiing before she could walk, and my first time on the slopes with her told me she wasn't lying. I, on the other hand, was only on winter number three. Mia tried to get me out on the snow our first winter together, but I refused at each attempt. In year two, she made a friendship ultimatum. Either try skiing once and if I hated it she would never ask again, or if I refused to give it at minimum one go, she would no longer drive me to school, forcing me to take that vomit-infused bus. I doubted she would cut me off on personal transportation services, as from the beginning, she had always warranted my safety, but my decision was made.

  With my superior lack of skiing abilities, she would always direct us to the smaller, easier runs. I would catch her peering over at the advanced hills, but never did she complain about only taking the runs I was comfortable with.

  “Hey, Mia,” I said while gearing up. “Let’s take Summit Platter today.”

  “Let’s not.” She shut down my recommendation.

  “Let’s.”

  “That is the hardest and fastest run here.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “How about we stick to our normal paths,” she said, not forming it as a question but as a statement.

  “How about no. I know you like the demanding runs and I have been keeping you back from them.”

  “It’s fine, Scarlett, really.”

  “It’s always fine but not today. I have been tagging along on the slopes with you for three years. Don’t you think I am ready and capable of handling Summit?”

  “What I want is for you not to hurt yourself.”

  “And what I want is a challenge.” Trying to win the argument was challenge number one.

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Really?” I was shocked that she gave in. Did I win another one?

  “On one condition.” Of course. There was always a but. “You have to follow me down.”

  Knowing I would not win two in a row, I agreed. She didn't want me trying anything unnecessary and stupid.

  Run one went as planned. I followed Mia as instructed, staying relatively close to her ski paths. During the lift ride for our second run, I convinced Mia to let us do a side-by-side run. I told her I would take the same path as the first, allowing her to do all the fancy tricks: ten-eighties and corkscrew seven-twenties, black flips and side flips.

  I had managed to pull off some basic stunts of tail grabs and three-sixties in the past, with the expert advisor and teacher Mia, but today I felt thirty percent professional as opposed to my regular ten percent.

  I may have only slightly strayed from Mia’s initial run path, picking up extra ramps and bumps, with the strong possibility of some larger ones as well, hitting them square instead of avoiding them. I solidly landed a nose grab followed by a shifty. Maybe I was fifty percent professional on the amateur moves. I was sure she was rolling her eyes at me under her goggles with each passing jump, twist and grab. But today was not about her watching over me, as she always did. Today, I wanted her to enjoy the longer, harder course, with me embracing our last run of the season and possibly our last run together ever.

  In a short couple of months, we would be graduating and leaving Darlington behind us, and parting separate ways on exit, resulting in the same outcome of my few high school friends that I embraced on our last day. Promising to keep in touch, but never doing so, as we all parted to different post-secondary facilities and job locations, those few summer text messages quickly turning into none.

  I would be heading home to St. Waters and my parents, while Mia would be back at her dad’s place. It was unfortunate how you could become remarkably close and care deeply for someone, building a relationship foundation over the years, only to have it disintegrate faster than that long-awaited day off work.

  I was ready for the next ramp, and wanting to make it my best jump yet, I decided to do a flat spin. It was a more advanced move then I usually did, but I had witnessed Mia pull it off numerous times, and I knew I could do it too.

  You should not be trying that jump, a male voice in my head said.

  The voice, that inner conscious, was so loud and focused, I could almost mistake it for a person standing next to me. A natural human reaction was to turn my head to the side the voice was coming from—like I had an idea what direction it was coming from, aware that it was all in my head—but that slight slip in concentration came with a horrific result.

  I hit the ramp square on and with a bend in my knees to assist me with extra air. I turned my body sideways, then parallel to the ground, rotated and then back upright. I’ve got this. I wanted to convince my inner conscious wrong. My feet touched down. Nicely executed. And that is when everything went dark.

  8

  Mia’s goggle-less eyes hovered over my pale complexion.

  “Oh my god! Are you alright?” she said, her face overcome by grief.

  “I think so,” I said in a daze. I struggled to sit up and fell back onto the ground. The snow melted under my ass, and a hand reached under each of my armpits, assisting me in a sitting position. They were not Mia’s arms. She was in front of me, recovering my goggles. I closed my eyes, protecting my irises from the brilliant glare of the yellow ball in the sky, and gently swayed my head from side to side. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

  My feet only contained a single ski, as the other was sitting on a pile with my poles.

  “How could you be so stupid, Scarlett?” She jabbed me in the shoulder. “I told you to stay on route. You were not ready to hit all those jumps. A steeper slope means more air and increased chance of error.”

  “Don’t really need a physics lesson right now,” I said, rubbing my face.

  “Let’s get you off the ground and out of the way of incoming skiers,” a man said.

  She removed my one remaining ski and set it to the side of the runway with hers, mine, and the equipment of the male voice talking and holding me up.

  He took me under the arms again and assisted me onto my feet and unstable legs.

  “Ouch!” I screamed, collapsing into the man suppo
rting me.

  “What’s wrong?” asked a concerned Mia.

  “My knee,” I said, trying to hold back tears.

  I was set back down on the wet snow.

  “Which one?” the man asked, coming into my line of vision for the first time.

  His aqua eyes sparkled off the reflection of the compacted afternoon glassy snow, with loose strands of blonde hair shaping out of his helmet.

  “This one,” I pointed at my right knee.

  He cradled my leg and gently felt around the knee cap. I winced when he increased pressure on the piercing spot.

  “I think you injured your meniscus,” he said, resting my leg back down. He looked at Mia. “I recommend you take her to the hospital and get it looked at.” He turned to me. “We are close to the bottom. Either we call for medical or I can carry you down.”

  Both options sounded pride-damaging, so I picked the lesser of the two.

  “Carry, please.”

  He looked back in Mia’s direction. “Grab the equipment and I will carry her to your vehicle.”

  “We don’t have one here,” Mia responded. “We were dropped off by Scarlett’s bo—.”

  “Friend,” I cut her off. “My friend drove us. If you could get us to the nearest bus stop, we can get to the hospital from there.”

  “I cannot let you do that,” he said. “Boarding a bus when you can't walk and taking all your equipment with you—it’s not going to happen. I will drive you.” He didn't leave us with any other choice. He bent down, put one arm under my legs and the other around my back to lift me with no effort. “In a situation like this, I feel obligated to introduce myself. My name is Jackson.”

  “I’m Scarlett, and my friend here is Mia.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “You were out for a few minutes on the hill. She introduced both of you.”

  “Oh, I guess that makes sense.”

  Jackson carried me down the hill and to his car, and Mia followed with all our loose ski gear.

  “It’s the blue one over to the right,” he said to Mia, directing us to the fully loaded Audi Q8. “If you could open the back door for me.”

  She did as requested, and Jackson delivered me safely from the ski hill to his vehicle. He took a blanket from the back and opened the opposite rear door. He rolled the blanket into a log and positioned it under my knee.

  “This will aid in absorbing the bumps on the road,” he stated.

  “Thank you,” I said and awkwardly did up my seat belt.

  “I will try and avoid as many bumps and potholes as possible,” he said, leaning back from the driver's seat.

  “Thanks.”

  Mia and Jackson conversed during the trip. I was mostly left out of the talks, taking up real estate in the backseat. Sitting in the front was not a practical option with my knee. Any chance of participating in a conversation would lack intelligence. As much as Jackson tried to dodge the rough patches of road, any focus I had was pulled away with sharp pain on the sudden jerks and bumps.

  The Q8 halted in the emergency entrance drop off lane. He swiftly lifted me out of the car, trying not to inflict any extra agitation on my knee. I spotted wheelchairs inside the first set of automatic sliding doors, but he walked directly past them without slowing—not having a chance to consider one as a mode of reasonable transportation—and took me directly to the emergency waiting room and set me on a plain, low-back chair that had very little bum padding.

  The lighting unevenly lit the room, being brighter around the nurse’s station and duller further away from their post. The room was lined with half-padded chairs, which became increasingly uncomfortable with each passing minute. Shifting weight from one side of my butt to the other did nothing in easing a numbing arse.

  “I am going to park the car and be right back,” he said.

  “Jackson, you have already done more than enough just by bringing me here. I don’t want to inconvenience you any further. Mia and I will be able to find a way home from here,” I said.

  “I brought you here, and it is my responsibility to get you home safely.” He left us before either Mia or I could argue the fact.

  “He’s cute,” Mia said seated beside me.

  I nodded my head with a smirk and concurred.

  “I’m curious to know,” she said, “why you cut me off when I was about to say ‘boyfriend’. You do remember that you have one, right?”

  “I am not exactly sure,” I said, pausing to think it over. “I love Chase and have a difficult time being separated from him, but the second I looked at Jackson, some other aura overcame me.”

  “Love aura?” she taunted.

  “No,” I shook my head. “Something other than that. It’s like I know him from someplace, like we have crossed paths before.” I shook my head again. “I think I might be going insane.”

  “I could have told you that a long time ago, darling.”

  “Geez, thanks.” I had an injured knee and a possible brain injury, but luckily for Mia, I could still spot sarcasm. “Do me a favour, Mia.”

  “Of course.”

  “I rather not have Jackson know about Chase right now. Can you not mention him, please?”

  “That’s my girl,” she said, and I twisted around to look at her. “You two-timer.”

  “I learned from the best,” I responded, referring to her phases with multiple bed partners.

  “Glad you finally learned something useful from me.”

  I can’t even insult the girl.

  Jackson returned to the E.R. and sat in the unoccupied chair next to me.

  I had a deep dislike for hospitals, not because of an underlying phobia of needles or blood, but due to the simple fact that lots of people died in hospitals, building the perfect breeding ground for an unimaginable amount of spirits.

  Barrier up – check. Holes sealed – check.

  “Where is your health card?” Mia asked me. “I will register you.”

  I unzipped my jacket, pulling out a sleeve of cards in a hidden pocket, and passed the health card to her. Jackson took the opportunity of the open jacket and pulled it over my shoulders prudently, folding it onto the chair next to him.

  Like the expectation of any hospital, no trip to the E.R. was ever quick, and we would be sitting around for a while.

  “So, Scarlett—” my name rolled through his lips like he had said it a thousand times before “—what brought you to the hills that ended in such a disaster and unexpected trip here.”

  “Mia had this idea in her head that was completely out of her normal behaviour. She convinced me to ditch class and go skiing for a final run of the season. I guess karma paid a visit to me for skipping.”

  “It appears it did. What's your story? School, work?”

  “Darlington.”

  “What year?”

  “Fourth and final.”

  “What course? Wait, I’m rude for asking all this. You don't need to answer.”

  “I don't mind. I have a feeling we are going to be here awhile, so we might as well get to know each other,” I said. “Accounting and financial management.”

  “Sounds intellectual.”

  “The course name is big, but it’s pretty straightforward and simple. Working for my parents’ business over the years gave me a huge jump start. The course is more so refining my job skills that I already have.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “Construction. What about you? What’s your story?”

  “I work.”

  “Doing?” I asked.

  “Investments.”

  “Sounds intellectual.”

  Mia returned from the registration desk. “Here, Scarlett. You need to fill these out.”

  She presented me with a clipboard holding two pieces of paper and a pen. Page one was personal information and page two was for medical history. I concentrated on the blanks and scribbled away. Jackson and Mia talked across my bowed head.

  “If you w
ould excuse me,” said Mia, “I have to make a quick phone call.”

  My brain scattered on who she would possibly be calling and informing of my ill fate. It wouldn't be my parents. She also didn’t have Chase’s number, nor would she tell him so as to have him show up while Jackson was here. Then I remembered.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Mia. You have plans with Ryan tonight, and my stupidity has ruined them for you.”

  “Don’t be,” she said, searching her pockets in her ski jacket for her phone. “You are and always will be more important than him.”

  From tearing a strip off me to loving me overnight. She was a true friend.

  “I don't want to overstep my boundaries,” Jackson interrupted, “but if you still want to go out, I have absolutely no problem staying here with Scarlett. As long as you don’t mind, of course,” he said to me.

  “Not at all.” I didn’t hesitate to peek up from the forms. A free opportunity to spend time with the new guy—I wasn’t going to turn that down.

  “You have been more than helpful to us; please don't feel obligated to entertain Scarlett so I can go on a date,” said Mia.

  “Really, I don’t mind. Honestly. Go enjoy your night. Mine was going to consist of a microwavable dinner and whatever random show I could find on television.”

  “So, it’s settled. I will go and catch the next bus home. Call me if you need anything,” she said to me, not hesitating.

  “Bye,” I said.

  She bent over and gave me a hug before deserting me with a complete stranger. The thought struck me forcefully. What was she thinking? Leaving me in the mercy of someone I haven't known for more than several minutes. What happened to overprotective Mia? Skipping class and now leaving me behind. She doesn't know him any better than I do.