Dec. 10, 1996
Rejoice! School was out for a snow day, the second one straight. A strong storm had come through Sunday and dumped two feet of snow over the past couple days. The first day, I was snowed in at home and experienced some serious cabin fever, especially with Dean and Mom also stuck at the house since the whole town practically shut down.
But by Tuesday afternoon, the storm was gone, the sky blue, and although the temperature didn’t reach freezing, the day was fine by Colorado mountain standards. Crews would be working through tomorrow to clear streets and sidewalks, but this extra day off was perfect for hanging out with Mike and Laura. Finals were coming up the next week, so this was a nice breather. School wasn’t the only thing weighing heavily on my mind. I’d also been stressing over my upcoming accident, which was only a couple days away.
Our street dead-ended at open space, the same land that wrapped around behind Laura’s house. That spot provided a steep yet smooth slope, with good spacing between the trees before they got too dense. It formed a sweet incline down to the street below. With as much snow as had fallen, we could hop onto our pair of inner tubes and, with enough speed, sled all the way down to the intersection, a journey of a full block. It was awesome.
Mike gave an excited whoop the moment Laura dropped her arm, the signal to start our race down to her at the bottom of the hill, right at the end of the street. We both pushed off to gather speed and accelerated down the slope on our tubes, the snow already packed by a number of trips up and down over the past hour. A mischievous thought came to mind, and right when we were picking up some serious speed, I abruptly nudged my tube sideways, grinning like a fiend, and bounced into Mike’s as though we were playing bumper cars. He skidded off the snow-packed section and into the slower powder.
“Hey, you prick!” He gave me the finger.
I laughed and saluted as I cruised down alone, leaving Mike far behind. Laura was grinning below as she watched our antics. The blast of cold air turned my face numb, and I gave a yell of sheer joy. I was coming up quickly on Laura and didn’t know if she was planning on trying to stop me or what, but she froze in my path for an instant too long before trying to get out of the way.
“Watch ou—”
My shout was cut off when I crashed into her. Laura fell on top of me with a squeal. We both bounced right out of the tube and slid a few yards through the snow, the empty tube rocketing off down the street. The two of us ended up in a tangle, laughing and grinning like idiots.
“You okay?” I asked when I could finally get my breath.
“Yeah, but you’re awfully bony, man. Not a very good cushion.” She gave me a scowl that she couldn’t maintain for more than a couple seconds before we were laughing again.
Mike shot by on his tube, only a foot or two away from hitting me, dousing me with a spray of snow to the face. I spat it out and wiped my eyes while Laura giggled. Mike roared with laughter as he kept going, eventually retrieving my abandoned tube down by the intersection at the end of the block.
That was a great day, and I was determined to make the most of it with my accident looming, terrifying and unavoidable. Perhaps it wasn’t actually unavoidable, but I was hesitant to do anything dramatic to change the course of events at this point without any do-overs, knowing Mom would pay the price.
We rode the tubes down the hill countless times, getting our workout in by trudging up the slope through the snow each time. Races were won and lost, collisions frequent, and laughter and joy plentiful. By the time darkness fell and we headed back home, all of us had a few bumps and bruises, but we wouldn’t have wanted it any different.
We went inside and kicked back in Laura’s basement to drink some hot cocoa and shoot the breeze. Laura showed us Zelda, which her dad liked playing. The game was cool but was only single player, so after a while, we gravitated back to Street Fighter II. Mike suggested we all chip in and buy Mortal Kombat II sometime, which was an awesome idea. I was up for it since I had a little money coming in from my job at the store, more after that much-appreciated fifty-cent raise.
When Mike and I were leaving, I paused on the porch. I hadn’t planned on saying anything, but my mouth overrode my better instincts. Autopilot urged me to just go home, but I wasn’t having it.
“Hey, guys…” I cleared my throat nervously, not sure what I meant to say.
They both looked at me, sensing my earlier levity gone and some heavy thoughts about to be articulated.
“Um, just wanted to say today was great, and I want you guys to know how much I appreciate everything… uh, being friends and all. Means more to me than you could know.” I managed to rein in my tongue before I could say more, such as “If anything should go wrong in a couple days and you don’t see me again…”
They both looked at me funny a moment, and I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Luckily, the porch light was dim in the darkness outside, so they didn’t notice.
Laura was the first to react. “Yeah, today was awesome. You guys are the best of friends.”
“Yeah, same,” Mike said, obviously reluctant but sensing a response was required. “Nice having people to hang with on days like this, you know?”
We all nodded then mutually decided that was enough awkwardness and called it a night. Mike and I waved bye to Laura and walked home. Safer subjects quickly took over on our brief walk, such as our newfound mission to acquire Mortal Kombat II.