Changes Ahoy
Wellspring: Issue 4
Well, Hello There
This edition of Wellspring is going to be brief and won't have the usual pictures. Some major and wonderful changes have occurred in my life recently, which I'll discuss in the July issue. Suffice to say I've been extremely busy the past month, and will be so in the foreseeable future.
But, this means that I will be giving you another preview from my first novel, The Weight of the Impossible, to tide you over until I can put together a more substantive offering.
A Further Excerpt From The Weight of the Impossible
The Weight of the Impossible is a contemporary YA novel about an ambitious teen figure skater, Zach, struggling to untangle himself from his ex-girlfriend. Her emotional and sexual abuse has left Zach with serious trauma -- even as he develops feelings for a male coach, a relationship which just might help him -- or hurt him.
This excerpt is from the second chapter of the book, after Zach meets Daniel, the male coach in question. Zach's immediately smitten, for better or worse. Let's see how this might play out on the ice, when Zach practices his exhibition program for the Freemont Open.
From The Weight of the Impossible
2. Dance Yrself Clean
Daniel turns to his students and that’s that. I shouldn’t sulk like some little kid but I do, kicking the carpeted floor.
“Hey Zach.”
It’s Coach, waving from further down the rink, near the boards. Sighing, I mope over to her.
“You took a little while to get that hot chocolate,” she says.
“I had to take an emergency shit.”
“Thanks for sharing,” she snorts.
I laugh.
She smiles brightly. I love her smiles so much. They’re like good weather, creasing the corners of her eyes and lips. Plus, when she smiles it kind of makes everything a little better, though I’d never say so to her face.
“So, I’ve been thinking of the quad toe,” she says.
Oh, here we go.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, so let’s make the quad toe a triple toe instead. We can save the quad toe for the free.”
I can’t help it. I glance over at Daniel, see the ripple of tattoos around his throat and shiver.
“No,” I say. “I’m doing the quad toe in the Exhibition.”
“You haven’t even landed a quad toe yet --”
“I have in the jump harness.”
She exhales.
“I shouldn’t even let you train a quad toe, you haven’t grown --”
“If I want to win, I have to learn quads now --”
She holds up her hand. Fuck. It’s not fair!
“This is final, Zach. You’re doing a triple toe. Understand?”
Fuck this shit.
“Understand?”
“I understand, ok, shit.”
“Do not talk to me that way, Zach.”
“Sorry.”
Things would be easier if I just hated her. If I could yell at her for holding me back and ruining my potential or something. But the truth is that she really loves me. And I love her right back. Since I was five years old, she’s been there for me, constant and solid as stone. She’s been a rock as my teacher, my coach, and the mom who actually stuck around. I can’t say that about anyone else in my life.
But quads are not as BIG and SCARY as she makes them out to be. It’s not like I’m going to fall and kill myself. The only way they become less dangerous is if I learn them and not just in the harness. And besides, I need to learn them to keep winning. They’re what make a guy stand out from other skaters. Plus, quads mean points.
Through the speakers overhead, a muffled voice announces the six minute warm-up. One of the officials unlatches a door onto the ice. Skaters rush to the open doorway, pulling off skate guards and handing them to their coaches before flowing forwards. I’m quick to join them, leaving Coach at the boards.
The ice is sleek, smooth and silk beneath my blades as it presses up to meet me. The muscles in my shoulders and neck finally unwind. Coasting a few laps with the other skaters, I let the ice lift me up and welcome me. Just like it has since I was four years old and first tried skating out on the frozen waters of Black Lake. I wasn’t very good at it then, but I loved skating. Loved it like nothing else in my life. It felt as though someone had carved a hole in my heart and then filled it with sunshine. Though I was only four, I knew I would always love the ice.
The only unique thing about this Ice Hall hangs above me now: dark green banners with the names of the Freemont Skating Club members who have been winners at major competitions. The names of U.S. National, Grand Prix Final, Four Continents, and World Champions wave down at me. Alex Jackson. Marge Thurston. Katie Owens. I’ll be just as good as them, if not better, when I’m a senior.
Passing Daniel, he doesn’t even notice me. He’s focusing on his students. Shit. If I start practicing my quad toe, would that get his attention? Or I could just be chill and save it for the performance. It would look really impressive to seem like a novice during the warm-up and then completely kill it during the show. If I focus, it’ll be fucking lit. Daniel will see.
So, an easy run-through. I’ll mark the more difficult elements, but I won’t practice them.
At first, the song simply plays in my head. The slow tempo tapping and low-key singing sort of waltzes around me as I take up the start position and begin moving around the rink. I do the triple toe loop because it’s fun. The music’s still taking its time as I coast into an easy spread eagle, but my heart’s pumping, waiting for the explosion. My muscles tense, remembering the soaring triple axel in time to a blast of drums and rush of synthesizers. It’s beginning to happen already, even though the music is only in my head. It doesn’t matter. Because the song, that dizzy-mournful, wild-hammering tune, throbs all around me. It’s like I’m shouldering my way through the club and the heavy beat of the music roars, making the air vibrate as I mark the triple -- well, quad -- toe double toe combination and then the triple lutz. I’m flooded by brilliant strobe lights and drums and synthesizers as I leap into the flying camel spin. By the time I roll out onto the dance floor and into the hypnotic step sequence, I’m drowning in the song, the flashing colors, the pulse of bodies all around, the smell of sweat and alcohol and all the crazy noise and confusion. The notes thump and soar as I make my final spins, gushing sonic energy like everyone else in the club. I feel glorious, bright as blazing light reflected off the disco ball. I can’t help smiling as I finish my run-through and coast back to Coach, the energy still humming in my veins.
“You ok?” she asks, offering me a water bottle.
“I’m great,” I say.
Her question should bug me, because duh, I’m freaking happy and she should be able to tell. She’s always nagging me since Laura broke up with me, always hovering and fussing as if something’s wrong.
“It’s not like you to mark so many of your elements,” she says. “Especially the jumps and spins.”
“I’m just saving something for the show.”
Coach nods and takes the water bottle back.
“That’s probably wise.”
Whatever. She’s going to have my ass for trying the quad toe, but it’s a risk worth taking in front of Daniel.
I skate off again, the disco ball feeling still glowing inside me. I work on my easiest spins until a voice over the speakers announces there’s one minute left in the warm-up. I allow myself to shut my eyes, spiraling upwards into the layback. I let the disco ball brightness burn through me, brilliant and comforting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes the six minute warm-up.”
Skaters zip ahead of me across the ice, to the open door where coaches wait with ready skate guards.
I feel calm as I near the boards. I’m not even sure what I’d been upset about earlier when I was throwing up. Perfume Girl sits in the stands with a couple friends, wrapped in fluffy purple blankets.
She doesn’t even look like Laura.
The announcer calls my name and I skate out to center.
Exhaling, I glance over at Daniel.
He’s standing right at the boards, arms crossed, watching.
Taking up my starting position, the music begins playing outside my head.
Hold onto your asses, folks.
Until Next Time
Well, I will send out the next newsletter in July, when I'll deliver an actual update on what's been happening in my life. Until then, you can find me on BlueSky and Facebook, and read past issues of Wellspring here in the archives.
Take care all!