Skating on Thin Ice
by
Janine Yordy
1-THREES
Ever hear how bad things happen in threes?
I never used to believe in that stuff
It used to seem silly.
Superstitions
Hocus Pocus
Flakey flim flam.
But like I said
It used to.
2-NERVES
Skating is my life
Figure skating that is.
On skates I glide and float,
Graceful and strong.
Off skates?
We’ll get to that
later.
But just know
I. Love. Skating.
I practice and practice
And practice.
Every morning, every afternoon
Every day.
Well not Sunday,
but you get the picture.
But today’s competition’s got me
Nervous,
Jumpy.
Not a good combo on skinny metal blades
Spinning through the air
Hoping to land like a feather, a butterfly
Not fall like…
Like I think I’m about to.
3-FLOWERS
Flowers are supposed to bloom
in the ground
Or possibly stuck in a vase
Safely growing smiles of celebration,
Happiness,
Encouragement,
Love,
Congratulations…
Not this time.
4-THESE FLOWERS
These flowers are a ginormous.
Created by mom
and some cruel,
torturing,
florist.
A headpiece
for me to wear
on my head
while I skate!
These flowers are heavy,
Unbalancing,
Froofy,
Not me.
I want to run away from the giant flowers
But mom looks so happy
Like she’s my fairy godmother
turning me,
her only child,
into a pretty princess.
I am Rapunzel
in the skating competition tower
my flowered, bunned-up hair
will not help me escape.
Where is a prince when you need one?
5-DAD
Dad stands stiffly,
silently,
still reeking from his last smoke.
At least it wasn’t a drink
yet.
He can’t help my head trauma.
“Knock ‘em dead,” he says,
or else, is what I
hear.
He is not
my hair prince.
6-MOM
Mom attacks me,
and my dirty blonde pony tail,
with her proud smile
and her bobby pins.
When my “do”
is done,
she is hugging me safe,
loving me,
no matter what.
“Oh Sara,” she swoons,
“you look
beautiful.
Good luck!”
I soak up her sweetness,
squeezing her tight.
Cause I will need more than luck,
I’ll need a hedge trimmer for these flowers
And my nerves.
7-HEIDI
Perfect hair
Perfect dress
Perfect annoyingness.
Heidi started at the rink last fall
showing off with super speed
solid jumps
and stuck up self.
Blonde braids, whizzing by me,
sucking attention from Cathy,
My coach
My hero.
8-CATHY
It was mom’s turn to find an activity for bluebirds.
(You know, bluebirds?
Like the kindergarteny version of girl scouts?)
She picked skating,
and Cathy
was our coach.
All my little bluebird friends
bored, frozen, ready for snacks,
flew the coop.
But I was already caught .
Cathy’s quick, shiny blades
her hook,
the promise of golden medals,
her bait.
Cathy mesmerized me.
My six year old blue eyes
glued on her
flowing skirt, flying jumps
Superwoman on ice.
When she suggested more lessons,
Mom agreed ,
I did a dance of joy,
Olympic-bound!
I was sure
with Cathy, my guide
and the rest is history
9-UNTIL NOW
Ever feel like you’re losing something?
Someone?
Like you know
things have changed
something’s different
But you can’t quite
put your finger on it…
or her.
10-JUST SO YOU KNOW
All the other skaters get along.
Even though sometimes
We compete against each other,
We’re sort of a team.
Millions of days together
Zillions of falls
Through first places
Last places.
Locker room laughs.
But not with Heidi.
She doesn’t want in on
“our team”
“Our team”
isn’t good enough
for her.
11-READY
Laces: tight.
Dress: sparkled.
Coach: Good lucked.
Hair: gardened
Nerves: (normally under control)
Frenzied.
12-HERE WE GO
Silence.
As I skate to my place
Alone.
All eyes are on me.
Beady eyes, hoping I’ll fall eyes,
Don’t you have something better to do people!!
Judges sit along the side,
Ready to catch my mistakes, mis-steps, mis-misses!
No pressure though right?!
Just another program…
Picture them in their underwear…
Whose brilliant idea was that anyway?
I mean, we’re in a sub-zero ice rink
What crazed loon would be in their underwear?
Uh oh
Music
Here we go.
13-NUMBER ONE (of my
“threes”)
Unbalanced,
uneasy,
unusually unsteady.
I fall everywhere
On just about
Everything.
I fall on jumps I’ve landed
Thousands of times
In sickness
In health
You know…
A lot.
This hurts…
A lot.
(and not just on my backside)
Stinkin’ flowers
(Well, someone’s gotta take the blame!)
14-BEST WISHES
Miss “causing all my nerves” is up next.
I wish I was the kid of girl
Who could “rise above”,
and
“turn the other cheek”
spreading “good luck”
to my fellow skater..
but I’m not
and I don’t.
She’s a meany
I can’t help myself.
I am not thinking loving,
“best wishes Heidi,” thoughts.
15-FLAWLESS
Her blades flash
Through dazzling spins
Amazing combinations.
“Heidi! That was flawless!” I hear Cathy gushing.
And it was.
She wins
First place.
I end up 7th
Ouch.
16-RUBBING IT IN
She prances by
On her way to the medal ceremony.
“Better luck next time.”
“Maybe you’ll land something,” she sneers.
Sneering is so yuck
Even on perfect
First place winners.
17-I FALL FURTHER
“What happened out there?” asks Cathy.
I unlace my skates.
“Just nervous, I guess,”
“Well, you’ll get ‘em next time
I’m sure,” she smiles,
sort of.
My stomach flips.
It knows something’s up.
“You know,” she starts,
“you’ll have to get it together
if regionals
is your goal.”
“Yeah, I know,” I manage, barely.
“Listen, Sara,”
(has that line ever ended well for anyone?)
“You know things have been busier at the rink.”
“Yea,” I squeak, pulling off my heavy skate.
“Well… I’m going to have to concentrate
on a few skaters”
Oh, relief!
Fewer skaters,
More attention,
Is that all?
She doesn’t mean me.
Does she?
She can’t
She’s been my coach
Forever
Since I started
6 years ago
a bluebird.
18-NUMBER 2 (of, you
know, my three)
“I won’t be able to coach you anymore, I’m sorry”
“What?!”
A hoover vacuum’s sucks out my lungs.
Can’t breathe.
“With regionals coming up, I just have to focus on a few
other skaters.”
Others meaning sneer face.
“I am sorry,” she offers.
“Good luck.”
And then she’s gone.
19-NO TEARS
So you know that line
From that movie
“There’s no crying in baseball.”
Well, as it turns out,
There’s no crying here either.
Cathy taught me at my first competition,
“No crying at the rink.”
“Be a good sport,
save your tears for home.”
And I always have.
Today is a real test,
7th place
dumped by my coach,
nastied by Heidi…
But I think baseball would be proud.
20-DADDY DEAR-LESS
“SARA!”
“HOW COULD YOU
have FALLEN
on ALL those
jumps?!”
Heads turn.
Whispers buzz.
My cheeks burn.
My dad
steals the show.
21-SUPPORT GROUP
Mom
Always proud of me
no matter what
is whispering
peacefully in my ear
“You did just fine!”
And
“Next time you’ll be first!”
And
“We’ll find a better, nicer, smarter coach!”
I let her love me up
Heave my million pound bag over my shoulder
And head out
Flower free.
22-DISAPPOINTED
Back home I skulk around my room
Disappointed, down.
Why do I have that dad?
Frustrated, too often
angry, too much,
daddy-like teddy bear, not enough.
Why do I have that
dad?
Who drinks,
and changes, nightly,
but lives
camouflaged during the day
as a nice-ish
normal-ish guy?
Why can’t mom and I
have that guy?
I know he’s in there.
Please come out.
23-THE GOOD PART
But all is not lost!
School is out.
Summer training starts next week.
Summer training
with no coach…
But still,
Kansas City rinks have other coaches
other options.
And besides-
summer training always beats school
at least the social part.
23-THE SOCIAL-LESS
PART
Let’s just say,
middle school
has not been kind.
The cliques?
Worse than high heels
On a marble hallway.
My fashion sense?
Yet undiscovered.
My friends?
Ditto.
24-SEVENTH GRADE
Waaay back in sixth grade,
I still had friends,
we all hung out,
still grade-schoolish pals.
Then we entered the “Twilight” Zone
And my twilight was
totally
Rob Pattinson-less.
In middle school
everyone scattered.
Some went to Meadowbrook
Some to Trailwood
Some even to private.
I’m at Meadowbrook
and the kids who knew me before
have middle school amnesia,
act like they’ve
never
seen me before.
The ones who’ve met me here
have torture training skills.
Future CIA covert ops.
Wicked queens of middle school
strolling through their kingdom
Belittling outfits,
Makeup,
Hair,
Existence.
25-EXCEPT
Except Francine,
Francine is my friend
the middle school one
and only.
Her parents are Orthodox Jewish,
so between their rules
and my skating,
we never get to hang out
outside school.
But inside,
we’re all we’ve got.
Francine is smart,
clever,
witty,
and therefore,
completely
outcast.
26-PITY PARTY
Yesterday
after the “fall-out”
of the competition
(get it, fall-out
I lost the competition
but I haven’t lost
my sense of humor!)
my mom took my
pity shopping.
I’ve been in sort of
a fashion cave,
skating so much
and all.
But I AM TRYING
to catch up.
We pick out shorts,
tops
and my happy favorite
a jersey dress
(long shirt really,
but I’m short
and with a belt?
cute!)
27-OR SO I THOUGHT
Before school,
everyone walks.
Walks the loop
around our halls.
Walks their runway,
their social lap,
their judgment stroll.
I walk with Francine.
Today, “new dress” morning
we roam the halls
trying to blend
not succeeding..
Moving towards us
a popular pack
of girls
nasty as the day is long,
led by Danielle Sage
“Nice dress,” she
sneers.
(Really, another
sneerer?)
Her minions twitter
loving her
as she squashes us.
“Thanks,” I reply
head high
“That’s a compliment
coming from you.”
They sneer in unison
not breaking
their stylish stride.
“Nice,” says Francine
giving my hand a squeeze,
making Danielle’s sting less
but only a little.
28-BRIGHT SIDE
It could be worse.
Like I said at the beginning…
I love skating.
And my skating friends
will see me through.
Right?
24-SMALL TALK
After my dress disaster day,
coach-less skating session,
and rotten homework,
I trot downstairs
Looking for some
Mom
(and dad will be there too)
chat time.
But something feels funky.
Not good time, rock and roll funky,
Stinky, something’s up,
those parents are hiding something
Funky.
They sit
Swirling nightly cocktails
Smiling stiffish smiles
Making funky
Small talk.
25-BIG TALK
Finally the funkiness comes out
(wish we could stuff it back in)
“Listen Sara,”
(Really? Again?)
“Dad and I have something to tell you,” mom says.
“O.K.”
“Sara, I lost my job,” dad says,
(he’s slurring a bit,
not his first cocktail)
“A few weeks ago.”
Brain freeze.
Heart stops.
Regain composure.
“What?!”
“Weeks?”
“How did this happen?”
I’m trying for calm, but I’m mildly freaking out)
“The company lost a lot of money last year…
economy’s down…
had to let some people go…”
Normally fierce,
tipping toward fury,
He looks sad
And kind of embarrassed,
I know how he feels.
We both got dumped.
26-THE GOOD NEWS
(A.K.A. number three)
Mom perks up.
“The good news though,”
(Oh there’s good news?
About time!)
“Dad’s found a new job
in Omaha!”
(remember things happening in “three’s”?
I’m hoping this is the final blow)
“Omaha?!”
“As in… Nebraska?”
“It’s going to be
GREAT Sarah!” mom chirps,
“The rink up there?
Fabulous!
The new coach they have?
Amazing!”
“It’ll be an adventure,” dad offers.
What can I say?
They are desperado,
Eyes hopeful,
waiting for my happy-girl buy-in.
I don’t have much to leave behind.
My adoring, devoted coach?
Nope.
My cult-like following of friends,
admirers?
Negative.
“O.K.,” I moan, “Omaha here we come.”
27-GAME PLAN
“When are we going?”
“Are we going to find a new house?”
I am busting with questions.
I’m ready for a game plan.
“Well…” dad says,
“Everything happened so quickly.”
“We need to sell this house
before we find a new one.”
“I’ll stay here,” adds mom,
“sell this house,
then join you and dad
to find our new house!”
Not the game plan I was hoping for.
Mom staying?
No mom?
For who knows how long?
Can dad keep it together?
“Where will dad and I live?”
“I found us an
apartment!” dad says,
“downtown!”
This is dad
excited,
adventurous,
about downtown Omaha.
“But mom…”
“When will you be there?”
“As soon as I can honey.”
“As soon as I can.”
I hope it’s sooner.
28-“HOME”
Just like that
Dad and I are gone.
On the road
“Home”.
We only bring a couple bags.
“Home” comes furnished.
Foreign furniture,
unrelated pots and pans
never before seen knives and forks.
“Home” is filled with
the unfamiliar,
unwelcome “home”.
29-SHADY
When we pull up,
we both sit
in the car
mouths hanging,
goldfish style.
Our “home” parking lot
looks shady,
shifty.
People seem to be lurking
aimlessly, darkly
around the run down entrance.
Dad and I haul and heave
our bags
through the dingy doors,
up the ancient elevator,
and into our ready-made
adventure.
30-MAYBE I SHOULD
HAVE…
“O.K., I know it’s not ideal,” dad says.
“I probably should have come up first
seen it
inspected it
before we…”
“But it’s temporary.”
“Short term.”
“Fine.”
I’m not so sure.
I’d feel better
without the glass of alcohol
firmly in his hand.
31-CHANGE OF PLANS
That night,
We hear a fight,
boyfriend yelling at girlfriend,
breaking out in the hall.
The next night,
outside,
police cars,
neon blue strobe lights spinning
handcuffs clanking
officers arresting.
Dad and I peek
through rusted shades
he says, “we may need a change of plans.”
32-THE RINK
Dad takes me to the rink
to meet Lee
my new coach.
She’s from Czechoslovakia
“Vell Sarah,” she says,
“I am glad to be working vith you.”
She is wicked tall
short dark hair,
sharp blue eyes.
I crane my neck
Jeez I’m short
and intimidated.
“Nice to meet you,” I say,
hoping it is nice
to meet her.
Hoping she’s good.
Hoping I’m good.
Hoping.
“Your father tells me your goal
for regionals.”
“You vould like to place there?”
“Yes, more than anything,” I tell her.
“Then let us get to vork!”
33-LOCKER ROOM
I glance around.
There are three girls
One high schoolish
One 4th gradish
One my age-
ish
And one boy
One cute boy.
Everyone’s busy getting ready
But offer small smiles,
Hellos.
The boy looks up
His hair is rumpled, brown
eyes green,
face…
turns pink
(or am I imagining it)
He quickly hops up
and out the door.
The girl my age scoots
making a spot for me
inviting me in.
“Thanks,” I say.
She smiles
brown pony tail and freckles
with an edge-
black eyeliner
black outfit
she is cool.
34-INTRODUCTIONS
“I’m Andrea,” she says.
“Hey, I’m Sarah. We
just moved here.”
“Cool. You been
skating long?”
What grade are you in?
“About six years,
down in Kansas City.”
“Kansas City…I heard that’s where Heidi Miller’s training
now.”
“She used to skate here.”
(Dear Lord,
will I never escape
the evil skating sneerer?)
“Yes, she was there,
before I left,” I say.
Were they friends?
Will these girls be the same?
“Never could stand that girl,” Andrea says.
The others nod
Agreeing.
“We’re happy to have you
instead.”
Is it possible?
I’ve entered the nasty-free zone?
Heidi-haters united?
Things
are looking up.
35-POSSIBILITIES
“So, what grade are you in?”
Andrea asks,
pulling on her gloves.
“Going into eighth,” I say.
“Hey! Me too!
What school you going to?”
“Not sure yet…”
“we’re…still looking.”
I wasn’t quite ready to spill
all those beans.
“It’d be sweet
if you moved near me!”
“Tell your parents to look in Millard”
“Then we could be in the same class!”
“Wow, that’d be
awesome.”
Could this be a friend?
Could I go to school,
my first day
already friended?!
36-THE OTHERS
The other girls introduce themselves.
Good girls-
they seem like my kinda peeps.
The tall, willowy, brown haired girl,
the high school-ish one
is Libby.
She says hi, smiles.
Seems quiet,
but sweet.
The fourth grade-ish one
is Keisha,
transplanted from Mobile, AL
“Hey Sarah,” she twangs,
“Nice ta meet ya.”
“Ya’ll ready to skate?”
She’s spunky.
The boy?
I wonder.
Andrea reads my mind,
“Jeremy’s the guy.”
“Cute, huh?”
“Well… yea,” I admit.
“He’s kinda shy,
in case you hadn’t noticed,” she laughs,
but he’s nice.”
We laugh together,
Leaving the locker room,
little do I know,
on the way out to my doom.
37-TORTURE
Six hours later:
Never, in my life,
Have I been so sore,
so completely exhausted,
so battered, bruised
bushed, beat.
Lee missed her calling.
She would have been great
in the marines,
drill sergeant perhaps?
Number of times I did my program?
A million.
Number of double axels,
lutzes,
flips,
toe loops?
A zillion.
Number of full speed power laps?
A trillion
Number of angry muscle fibers?
Infinity.
Infinity.
38-A BRIGHT SPOT
It was very teeny.
I could have imagined it,
But…
Did I see
Jeremy,
A.K.A cute boy,
smile
at me?
39-BACK TO THE LOCKER
ROOM
“Is Lee always like this?”
I manage to moan to Andrea.
“Pretty much. She’s
tough as nails,
but she know what she’s doing.”
“Trying to kill young,
innocent children?” I
whimper,
only half joking.
“I know,” she laughs,
(how can she laugh?
doesn’t it hurt?)
“Lee may not be well known here yet,
but she trained the Czech champion
before she escaped.”
“What do you mean escaped?”
“Lee lived in communist Czechoslovakia.”
“She defected to the United States.”
40-SHE DID WHAT?
That night I wonder,
in between hallway fights
of course,
how does one
escape?
And if you have to
escape,
what do you leave
behind.
41-MORE PAIN
For a week
it keeps going
every day the same.
Dad drinks,
I don’t sleep
(due to dangerous,
nightly,
apartment building,
mayhem).
Wake up-
crack of dawn,
go to rink-
suffer immeasurably
as Lee skates me into the ground.
Whimper in the locker room
comforted at least
that I am surrounded
by new,
equally battered
friends.
42-BUTTERFLIES
After another muscle numbing,
butt-bruising,
not nearly good enough
run through my program,
I sit.
On the ice.
I’ve fallen
and I can’t get up.
(ha ha)
I doubt my body
can conjure the strength
to rise up
and try again.
But then,
there’s a black-gloved hand
reaching down
to pull me up.
I look up.
expecting Libby,
or Keisha
but see a smiling
Jeremy.
Butterflies.
43-NIGHT OWL-NOT
“Sarah, what’s up?”
“You look like you got run over
by the zamboni!” Andrea says Friday
as we stretch,
warming our sad,
slightly angry muscles.
“I’m just a little tired.”
(“A little tired” meaning,
I’m sleep waking,
miss the 18th amendment- {might help dad}
miss my mom,
miss having a home
all together.)
“You sure?” she squints,
concerned,
like a friend,
through her cat-eyed
eyeliner.
I must look horrendous
to be causing such
concern.
“Well… things at our
apartment are…
(drink-filled?
sketchy? shady?
punishable by 4-5 years
in prison?)
“Difficult.”
I looked over to see Lee
hearing everything
even what I didn’t say.
44-MORE MOVING
When Andrea and I
hobble out of the locker room
Dad and Lee are talking,
conspiring?
Dad sees me,
shoots me his daytime,
dad-I-love,
dad smile.
Definitely conspiring.
They wave me over.
“Sarah! Great news!”
dad says.
Oh dear.
“Your father has been telling me
of the loudness
the troubles
vith your apartment,” says Lee.
Where are we going with this?
“I know you can’t sleep,
and
it’s not that safe,
and
I’d just feel better
if you had somewhere
else
to stay,” dad smiles
then says,
“So Lee has offered
to let you live
with her!”
Head spinning.
Dizzy.
Do you see blackness
before you faint?
“Sarah,” says Lee.
“It vill be much better
for you
for your father.
You vill have good sleep
and then
good practice.”
“Besides, Lee lives closer to the rink.
And I have to stay
close to work
downtown
for now,” says my dad.
What can I say?
I’m not being given
a choice.
44-WISHES
All I can think is…
if she’s killing me
at the rink,
Lord knows
she could finish me off at home!
In one month
I have gone from great coach,
to no coach,
to wishing for a new coach
to getting a new coach
(communism escapee, perfectionist coach)
to living with perfectionist,
communist escapee coach.
Be careful what you wish for,
you just might
get it.
45-CHATEAU LEE
When I walk in
I see no signs.
no signs of torture,
no living room practice rink.
No sign of a creepy,
training dungeon
where skaters might be forced
to lift weights
stretch unendingly
until they
snap.
Lee’s house is
normal.
It looks comfy
and cheery
and definitely someplace I could
sleep
without fear of being
in an episode of “COPS”.
“Vell, here we are,” she says,
showing me a sunny, yellow room
my room.
“Thanks, it looks great!” I say,
meaning it.
“You vill like zee neighborhood too.”
“Two of my skaters live here also.”
I am crossing my fingers and toes.
“Andrea is down zee street,”
(YIPPEE!)
“and Jeremy,”
(heart stopping)
“is just two doors down.”
(smile, sigh)
46-THE OTHER ROOMMATE
Lee neglected to tell me
she doesn’t live alone.
As I re-schlepp my clothes
into their third home of the month,
I feel eyes
watching,
inspecting,
me.
I whirl around
and find
their source,
on my bed.
47-AFTON
My mouth hangs open,
dumbstruck.
Crystal-blue eyes
stare me down
calmly,
calculatingly,
from my new quilt.
“Ahhh, I see you met Afton,”
says Lee, entering the room
scooping up the starer.
Long, white strands of hair
trail behind,
floating in the still air.
And the icy eyes,
watch me.
“She is my pretty, Persian princess!”
“Aren’t you wittle girl?” Lee coos-
to her cat.
(Pretty Persian Princess?
Lee has melted into mush
before my very eyes!
Where is the wicked skating witch?
And why do I feel
like “Afton”
is looking so…
smug?)
“See you for dinner in a bit,”
Lee says, walking out,
Afton gazing over her shoulder
giving me
her most superior look yet.
Lee may rule the rink,
but Afton
definitely
rules the roost.
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