“It’s a Christmas tradition here at the Rosenthal house,” he said, handing me a pair of white skates. “Try these on. They look like they’ll fit.”
A few minutes later I was outside, skates all laced up, waiting to step onto the icy surface. Ian glided onto the ice with ease and stroked around as if he was made for it, going backwards, forwards, and in all directions. My jaw dropped. “How did you get to be so good?” I asked, a smile forming upon my face.
“I used to play hockey,” he said, skidding to a stop and spraying me with snow playfully. “Being on the ice comes naturally to me. You’ll learn in time.”
If I could be half as good as Ian it would be a miracle. He held out his hands and said, “Come on. I won’t let you fall.”
I took his hands tenderly and stepped onto the ice with care. My feet instantly slid out from under me and he grabbed my arms, pulling me to my feet. “Easy! It’s not like walking. Try shuffling. That’s what gliding is like.”
I did and still slid all over the place. How did Ian do it? I tried shifting my weight from one foot to the other, struggling to retain my posture.
“This is all about balance and practice,” Ian said. “You have to keep your weight over you.”
I tried shifting instead of stomping and I found that my balance grew more steady. I skimmed across the ice, relying mostly on Ian to guide me.
“Your body should be doing most of the work. Use your momentum to move around,” Ian explained.
“I don’t know how this is possible. These blades are a few centimeters thick. How can you stay straight on these?”
“Lots of practice,” he said. “I love the ice, and maybe it loves me just as much.”
“I want to be able to go fast, like you did,” I said.
He smiled mischievously. “You do, do you?”
I knew that gleam in his eye. “No, Ian...”
“Don’t worry,” he said, skating around my back and putting two hands upon my shoulders. “Just stay still and trust me.”
He began to push. He started out slowly, and then I began gliding with a speed I had never accomplished, not even while running, the fear and exhilaration pounding through me. I let out a giddy cry as Ian pushed me faster and faster. He pulled me around a corner and it was like being in a whirlwind. I felt like I was flying. “Faster, Ian!” I cried out, letting out another laugh.
“You want to go fast? You asked for it!” Ian scooped me up in his arms and now he was carrying me across the ice, zig zagging and swirling. I could swear that I was on a roller coaster as Ian turned circles and spun me around, rocking me from one direction to another. I couldn’t help it. I began laughing harder than I ever had, throwing my arms up in the air as Ian whirled me from place to place. Annabelle couldn’t touch me here...I’d never felt so alive.
Ian was out of breath by the time he let me go. I clung to him, still unbalanced but giggling. “That was...insane!” I said, my hair everywhere, my adrenaline pumping. “How did you get to be so strong?”
“You’re lighter than a feather,” he beamed. “I’ve carried sticks heavier than you.”
“Oh shut up,” I said, punching him in the shoulder. We spent a few more minutes skating around and before we got off I made Ian promise that we would come back often so he could teach me how to fly on my own.
“You really like it, don’t you?” he said, his cheeks getting even rosier as we sat on the wooden bench outside the rink.
“Yes, yes I do,” I said, slipping my boots back on and rising to my feet. “It’s wonderful.”
Ian took me by the hand and began walking through the snow. His touch surprised me, but I didn’t pull away. He stopped at the tiny barn I had seen earlier and dragged the huge door open, stepping inside to inhale the scent of hay and....horses.
It was a nicely kept barn, with all the hay stacked neatly on the sides of the wooden stalls and the aisle way swept clean. Only two horses resided inside. There was a giant, red male in the corner stall closet to us, and a small, raggedy looking female that had its nose in the corner furthest away from the door.
Ian led me up to the red’s stall. “This here is my horse, Rebel,” he said in a corny Southern voice, and I snickered. “We call him Reb for short. I used to contest him.”
“Contest?”
“Run him in games. Cowboy like things, such as racing barrels, pole bending, that type of thing?” he said slowly.
The words made no sense to me, but I imagined in my head Ian racing around on Rebel in a cowboy hat and boots, somewhere in a dirt arena risking his neck. “Sounds dangerous.”
“I lived for it. I’ve been paying my parents for his upkeep...I never could sell him after I graduated.” Ian looked wistfully at Rebel and the horse nickered, as if expecting a treat. Ian put his hand through the stall and started stroking the horse’s head, saying, “I don’t get to ride him much anymore, save for Sunday afternoons, but lately I’ve been neglecting him. I’d show you what it was like to ride him, but it’s starting to get dark.”
“Could you run him?” I asked.
“Not in this weather. He might slip and fall. Maybe this spring I’ll take you out and show you what he can do. You’ll be impressed, I guarantee it.”
His confidence was immense as always. Nothing ever shook Ian. He had an incapability to be knocked down by whatever happened to him. I had gotten used to his insane positivity by now. I moved to the far stall in the corner, looking at the poor mare within. Her ribs were showing, and her black coat had clumps of hair missing. “Who’s this?” I asked, tilting my head.
Ian’s smile fell. “Her name’s Miracle. My mom named her that because it’s a miracle she’s even alive. She’s a rescue case. We adopted her a few weeks ago after a shelter rescued her from the slaughterhouse. She’s only five and she’s a mess. She was born to an abusive owner, and she never saw grass until she was sent to the slaughterhouse. He never let her out of the stall and he hardly ever fed her. All the other horses she was with died. She was the only survivor. If I ever meet that guy, I swear I’ll...” His fists clenched with rage and I tried to envision a violent Ian. I couldn’t do it, but I had no doubt that if the situation presented itself, Ian would have no trouble hurting the monster who had done this.
“Why is she in here, instead of being outside? Nobody should be locked up on Christmas,” I said sadly. Her eyes looked dead...they had no emotion in them, as if all the hope and love had been beaten out of her.
“She won’t leave her stall unless we force her out, and personally, I don’t want to get injured today.”
“Injured?”
“She’s dangerous. Vicious. She cornered my dad in the stall and tried pawing at him. We’d have gotten rid of any other horse that did that, but we decided to give her a second chance. If she doesn’t get better soon we’ll have to put her down.”
My heart ached for the poor thing. She was the way she was because of people, and ultimately she would have to pay the price. I moved a little closer and Ian jumped, saying, “Christie, don’t!”
The black mare whirled around in her stall and lashed out with her teeth. Even though there were bars separating us I still leapt back, with Miracle gnashing at the bars and throwing her weight up against the stall door, creating a loud bang, the hinges creaking.
Miracle reared up in her stall, lashing out with her hooves. My breath caught as we waited for her to come down but the halter she wore got caught on a rusty piece of metal that was hanging from the ceiling. We watched in horror as the mare tried to escape but she was caught, up in the air and standing on two legs. Her eyes rolled back and her panting got heavy as the halter cut into her neck, choking her.
“Christie, don’t do anything, we can’t help!” Ian said, grabbing my shoulders.
“She’s going to strangle herself!” I cried. I wrenched myself away from Ian and ran into the stall without thinking, ducking to avoid the thrashing of the mare’s legs.
I always carried a knife with me
after the cult had ambushed me in the streets. Unleashing it from my pocket I ran to Miracle’s side, hoping that she wouldn’t kill me in the midst of what I was about to do.
I was barely tall enough, and stretching out to reach the halter took everything I had, but I somehow managed it. Using the jagged edge of my knife I hacked through the nylon, not caring if my hands went numb or ached. After a ridiculously long time it gave way and Miracle came crashing down to all four legs, gasping for air, but free.
It wasn’t long before the mare turned on me. Cornering me in the back of the stall with no way to reach the door, the mare looked at me head on. “Christie!” Ian shouted and he made way to come in but I quickly barked out, “Don’t move!”
He froze. Miracle didn’t sway, only looked at me with those black eyes full of rage and confusion. I could see that she wasn’t all black...there was a tiny white marking on her forehead, a white spot that was in the shape of a miniature cross. Trembling, I lifted my right hand slowly to cover the cross upon her head, rubbing the area up and down gently, all while cooing to her, “It’s alright Miracle, it’s alright...you’re safe now, settle down...”
She froze in place. I kept petting her, glancing to Ian’s panicked eyes. Finally she relaxed, dropping her head and putting her ears up as I continued to talk to her.
Ian was speechless. He looked at me, dumbstruck, while I continued to tame the beast. Slowly I inched to the door of the stall and the mare followed me, turning on her hindquarters until we were both facing the door. I slipped out of the stall and she continued to watch me, her ears attentive, eyes now with a little bit of light in them.
Once I was outside the doorway Ian quickly locked it and sucked me into his arms, squeezing all the life out of me. “Are. You. Crazy?” he hissed, his head buried into my hair.
“No,” I wheezed out. “I’m insane. That’s a lot worse.” Ian continued squeezing me until I lost my balance and we both fell over backwards into a pile of hay. He let me go, shaking his head at my actions.
“That was stupid Christie,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “That was really, really dumb.”
“She didn’t deserve to die,” I said in protest, lying next to him. “She’s never gotten a chance. I had to give her that.”
“No horse is worth your life,” Ian said. “You have no idea how scared I was just now.”
“I’ve been in a lot worse situations,” I said.
“Not with me there!” He turned to look at me. “Christie, if that horse had hurt you do you have any idea how horrible I would feel?”
Guilt would’ve crept in if I’d had let it, but I pushed it away. “I had to save her. All my life I’ve had this feeling of helplessness and in there...I actually did something that made me feel like I had control. I could help determine if that mare lived or died. You don’t know what that means to me.”
“Can’t you find a safer way of being in control?” he growled. “Honestly Christie, you’re always putting yourself in the most compromising situations. Every time you’re in danger I feel like I have...I want...to save you, and now I could do nothing but watch. That made me feel helpless.”
I snapped a piece of hay in half. “Well I guess I’m going to have to do dangerous stuff when you’re not around, then.”
Ian started laughing, a nervous type of laughter, but at least it eased the tension. “Come here you,” he said, and he started tickling me so hard that I squealed, rolling in the hay to try and get away from him but failing miserably.
“Okay, stop,” I said, pushing him away from me. “You’re going to make me bust a gut.”
“Just be lucky that Miracle didn’t break your ribs,” he said, lying back down.
“You still on that?”
“I will remind you of it as much as I can, so you avoid endangering yourself in future endeavors.”
“Reverse psychology. That just makes me want to be more reckless,” I said.
He sighed. I turned on my side and asked, “Why did you leave this house? It’s obvious you loved it here. Why not stay?”
“I would still be living here, but given my age I felt that I was required to move away,” Ian scowled. “I’m twenty four and I have a good job. I can’t live with my parents forever. I’ve to make my own way in the world.”
“I haven’t lived with my mother since I was sixteen,” I said, observing the old barn. “Been living on my own since then.”
“Well I hope this place can become a home for you,” he said. “My mother would like you to know you’re welcome here anytime you wish, day or night.”
“Tell her thank you for that, though hopefully I won’t need to take her up on that offer.”
“Keep doing stuff like what you did with the horse, and you will.”
“Okay! I get it!”
He chuckled before a unhappy frown settled on his face, and it lingered there. “Even if I wasn’t expected to move out, I don’t think I could stay here anyway, not after she left,” he whispered.
“She?” I sat up. There was a girl in the picture?
“My sister,” Ian said with a sad smile. “Ophelia.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” I said, surprised.
“You wore her skates this afternoon,” he said, sitting down. “She was just your size.”
“Where is she?”
“She ran away.” Ian looked away from me, towards Rebel. “It was about six years ago. She was dating this one...creep,” he spat out the word. “And the next thing we knew she wasn’t the same. She stopped going to church and we never saw her because she was gone all the time. We came home one day to find a note on the table. We looked everywhere but it was useless. She had run off with him. We haven’t heard from her since.”
“Do you know where she is?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nobody does, and even if we did find her we can’t force her to come home. She’s over eighteen now and can legally make her own decisions.”
“Do you think she’ll ever come back?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would leave this place...couldn’t understand why anyone would want to.
Ian shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s probably changed in the years that have passed. She probably doesn’t even remember me.”
“How could she forget you?” I said. I was unable to imagine anyone ever forgetting Ian.
“I don’t know. I never forgot her. After I got out of high school, things were okay for a couple months. Boring, but okay. Then when Lia...that was what we used to call my sister...went missing, everything just...stopped. Life ceased to exist for me, even though the world kept moving.”
He looked like he was about to cry. Putting my hand on his, I clenched it tightly and said, “I’m so sorry Ian.”
“I miss her everyday,” he said wistfully. “Part of me just wants to know what happened to her, even just to know if she’s dead or not. I know it sounds terrible, but I just need to know. When she left, I couldn’t stand it. That’s when the drinking and the partying started.”
“But you’re over that now, right?” I said. “You’re better?”
He turned to look at me and smiled. “Yes. Because of you.”
We got to our feet and he said, “The moon’s out. We’d better get in and gather round for another Rosenthal tradition.”
“Oh? What’s that?” I asked in amusement.
“Drinking hot chocolate by the fire while telling stories. They get better every year. I can’t wait to tell my parents the new one about you and Miracle,” he beamed. “And we’d better brush off the hay. They’re liable to think we were doing something we shouldn’t,” he said, winking.
I blushed and he laughed, turning towards the door. As he opened it the moonlight sparkled down on Miracle’s stall. She hadn’t stopped watching me since I had slipped away from her.
Ian
The drive home was really quiet that Christmas night. Not an uncomfortable quiet, but a quiet between Christie and I that hinted we enjoyed
each other’s company. Her eyes were starting to droop in the passenger’s seat, and I turned the radio down. This had been the best Christmas yet, ever since Lia...
I sighed. I can’t believe I had told her about my sister. I never told anyone about that. And what had happened with Miracle was nothing short of crazy. I wasn’t sure if Christine was brave or dumb.
Or maybe she just had a big heart. A compassionate heart, one bigger than I’d realized.
My love for her only grew, but I tried to ignore the tender feelings. Christie had made her intentions clear weeks ago. She liked me only as a friend, and it was going to stay that way.
That didn’t stop anything. The staring too long, the dire need to protect her, and the stupid dreams I had of her every night. I wish I could cut my heart out and throw it away. It was pure torture, living with her and spending every free moment of my life with her, knowing she’d never love me back. But it was the sweetest torture I’d ever known.
A small snore sounded from Christie and I suppressed a laugh. Lia, Christie...why did I love more than anything the two girls who were insistent on breaking my heart?
Chapter Seven
Christine
When the New Year began all hope to find the boy was lost. There was a memorial service for him, and after that his name was then lost on the lips of the townspeople. “They have nothing to go on, Christie,” Ian told me. “Unless the cops find something, and it’s doubtful they will, we all need to try and move on.”
“Will you?” I asked, knowing the answer. “Would you, if that was your child?”
“I would never give up. If my word’s not good enough, take Lia. I never stopped searching for her, not until my dad took me aside and told me that it wasn’t healthy, that I was going to lose my mind if I kept looking for her. But he was right...I can’t stop living. Unless there’s a new development for either of them we have to go on as if...” Ian turned away from me.
Life continued on as normal as humanely possible, crossing into the paths of boredom. I did my best to save up my money until I finally had enough cash in March to buy my own car. It was a junker, and it sucked gas like no tomorrow, but having my own vehicle was well worth the pain at the repair shop and at the pump. I avoided driving it unless I absolutely had to, focusing my next goal on one thing...moving out. The apartments down the street had rent for six hundred a month, and I wasn’t there yet but sooner or later, I was going to be.
These Starcrossed Lives of Ours Page 8