Mom was safe. Dad was still on the mountain. Uncle Max was missing. I stared at the breakfast foods spread across the table. Ceviche with octopus, shrimp, and scallops, guanábana juice, and a bowl of popcorn, which strangely accompanied every meal here. Uncle Max was a mastermind of popcorn concoctions. He’d introduced me to his ultimate trail mix: a blend of caramel and cheddar popcorn with peanut M&M’s. Mom had not approved. And Uncle Max would not approve of the unsalted stuff here.
The last food I’d eaten was the cardboard energy bar the morning before. It didn’t feel right to be hungry, yet saliva flooded my mouth. My stomach roiled with half hunger, half nausea.
“Eat,” Mom said.
“You too.” I slowly slurped the ceviche, the lime juice tingling my tongue, and I remembered Zach draining his bowl, lips smacking, Becky giggling. It seemed like so long ago.
Despite the food on her plate, Mom only sipped tea. She needed food even more than me after her struggle down the mountain.
She met my gaze. “Mr. S. gave me a meal last night when I got here.”
“Where’s Coach Mel?” I asked
“She left this morning for her flight home. We didn’t want to wake you. She told me to give you a big hug from her.”
I nodded. I knew she must have been more than relieved to turn me over to my mom.
I ate a few kernels of popcorn and sipped some juice, until my questions could wait no longer.
“Is Dad hurt?”
“No, not that he’ll admit, anyway, just bruised. Both of us.” Mom winced and readjusted her position. “I couldn’t get him to leave.”
“He’s looking for Uncle Max?”
Mom nodded and sipped her tea.
“What about the avalanche transceiver?” I asked.
“No signal.” Mom’s face was pained, her voice faint.
“Do you think Dad can find him?”
She set her cup on the table and shook her head. “I don’t know, but he’s not giving up. He’s determined to find him, either way.”
Either way. Dead or alive. I shoved the bowl of ceviche away from me. The liquid sloshed over the rim.
Mr. S. appeared behind me and mussed up my hair like I was a little kid. We smiled grimly at him, and he nodded back. He moved on to clear dirty dishes from the other tables.
“Mr. S. and Coach Mel told me you finished in third place,” Mom said. “I’m proud of you.”
I shrugged. The competition felt far away and insignificant now, but one moment remained raw in my mind. “I fell,” I said.
“It happens.”
“This was different.” I described my fall, how I felt like the earth had tilted.
“It was during the semifinals?”
I nodded. “It’s seems like so long ago, but it’s only been five days.” I remembered how it had felt as though the universe was speaking to me. “When was the avalanche?”
Mom placed her fingers on her temples and closed her eyes. “It’s been hard to keep track of time, it feels like much longer to me too.”
She opened her eyes and met my gaze. “It was five days ago.”
We sat in silence. I looked out the window at the mountains in the distance, blurred by tears. I didn’t say it aloud, but I knew. My dad wasn’t going to find Uncle Max alive. Max had already said good-bye.