and I drift from thinking about Nancy into a dream of falling. When I wake up its true. Theres a cracking sound and I end up on my side and theres something rong with the customs trailer. I wasnt sure befor but I am now. The floor has dropped away from the bottom of the outside wall. I can see a strip of nite and feel a cold wind.
The music on the other side of the door is loud. There is still bumping going on—the dancing. I am cold because of the open strip of wall. I put on my glove and mitt. I think about standing up and shouting for help but a voice inside me says wait. You know that voice. The corner of the floor drops again. It is angled down and I am sliding toward the crack.
Wait says the voice.
There is another crack and the floor falls out. I end up on the hill under the trailer with a sore bum from the drop. It hurts like when you go over a bump on a tobogan witch is what the floor of my room is now—a tobogan.
I slide down the hill on it. I look up and see the lites of the trailer behind me and the bridge over my head. I hit a tree root and the wood floor cracks but the plastic carpet keeps going with me on it so I go even faster than befor. Plastic is my magic carpet. I just miss a tree and then an other. The sky is clear and the moon is mostly full—like a Ritz cracker with a bite out of it—so there are clear shadows on the snow. When the moon lite hits the tree ahead of me there is a flash from a yellow sticker. Farther down I pass another flash. This is Kentons path. I gess I am going the best way down. I stick out my hands to steer but the path is pretty smooth. I only have time for 1 or 2 breaths and then the carpet flys over the bank of the river and I land on my bum witch hurts some more. The ice is flat and smooth so I skid and spin for a while befor I can roll off the plastic and stand up. I have to blink. The moon is brite and the ice and snow are white all around me and Canada is dead ahead.
A minit ago US customs had me locked in a room and in trouble. A lot can happen in a minit. Holy crap says a voice. No this is not the voice you trust. This is my voice. I am talking out loud.
I never skated away on a river befor. That song is in my head as I take off. The ice is smooth and the wind has blown off most of the snow. The skating is great. Left glide rite glide left glide. I hear a wolf howling. I gess he is howling at the moon. It sounds erie and cool.
I pass an island with a tree and nothing else—a desert island from a comic strip. There shuld be a ragged guy throwing a bottle with a note in it only that wuldnt work because it is winter. I pass an island with more trees and another island with no trees at all. I hear a booming sound come from underneath me and I stop. Is the ice splitting? Is there a hole ahead? I dont want to fall in. The ice feels strong under my skates but I watch care fully for a hole—witch is how I come to see the foot prints in a patch of snow. There is a rapper beside the foot prints—shiny paper that looks like it was on a hamburger. I remember what Kenton said about Alex and Brady crossing over to Canada to have fites when they were in school. It seems I am not the only 1 on the river tonite. I look all around but I cant see any body or any other hint of any body. The rapper is from befor. I skate and skate. I hear a train whistle a long way away and then the wolf agane. I see a shadow on a patch of snow ahead of me and look up to see an owl floating toward the US. It mite not be an owl but I dont know any other nite birds.
Left glide rite glide. Deep breath. Glide.
River skating is better than a rink. I feel this amazing sense of freedom. The open—the empty—the world—the ALL of it. Being alone in a big place takes you away—like you can float off and look at yourself from a distance. Here I am in my little life trying to deal with my troubles. Some people are worrying about me and some are helping me and some are making it hard for me and all the time theres this—this—this gigantic ALL all around me. It makes me feel small but also grate full. Maybe not grate full xactly—maybe more like you see how awe some everything is. My family only goes to church 2wice a year and I dont pay much attention xept for the singing and if there are donuts in the church basement after words so I am not talking about God here. I dont know anything about God. But as I am skating late at nite across this river that goes forever and the ice smooth and fresh and the moon shining down I am like—wow.
Until I put my foot thru the ice. Then I stop thinking big thots and go back to worrying.