Spinning Away

by Jake Maddox

  As Maggie went to stand up, she slid a bit. The blade of her skate slipped forward and caught the tender skin on her sister’s shin. They both watched in horror as blood quickly welled up and soaked through Beatrice’s white tights.

  “Oh no, Bea,” Maggie said, placing her own gloved hand over the cut, panicking. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tears pooled in the corner of Beatrice’s eyes, but she didn’t let them escape. She got up and skated slowly over to Coach Bennett. Years of figure skating had taught them both to be brave when injured.

  It was one thing they had in common, at least.

  Maggie felt terrible about hurting her sister. She was so exhausted. She couldn’t skate or even think straight. Something had to change.

  Maggie slipped away to the locker room and kicked off her skates. She collapsed onto the wooden bench and dropped her head into her hands. Her dad’s face popped into her mind. She needed someone on her side.

  * * *

  Maggie waited until Beatrice and her mother went to bed. Then she crept to the study and opened the door. Inside, it smelled like a mixture of wood and leather and her dad’s aftershave. It made her feel like a small child again.

  Her dad looked up from his papers. “What’s up Magnolia?” he asked. “I mean, Maggie.”

  Maggie loved him for remembering what she wanted to be called.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?” she asked. She walked over and curled up in one of his dark brown chairs.

  He got up and came to sit in the chair beside her. He grabbed both of her hands and squeezed them. “It’s about the ice skating situation, right?”

  The concern on his face caused tears to spring suddenly to Maggie’s eyes. She found herself blurting out the story of her one day of practice with Coach Stone. She talked and talked. She told him all about how she’d felt so free and alive.

  “Mom is being so unfair,” Maggie said. “She never cares about what I want.” She lowered her head, snot and tears now running down her face in a steady stream.

  Her dad reached up to wipe her face with his handkerchief.

  “I want to tell you a story, Maggie,” he said in a serious voice. “This is a story about your mom that you might not have heard before.”

  Maggie thought she knew everything about her mother.

  “When your mom was young, about your age actually,” he started, leaning back in his chair, settling into his tale, “she wanted desperately to be a figure skater.”

  “What?” said Maggie.

  “Yep,” her dad said. “She practiced and practiced.” He grinned. “You know how dedicated she can be when she sets her mind to something.”

  Maggie coughed out a laugh. She did know.

  “And then, one day,” he continued, “she was in a car accident with her parents.”

  Maggie blinked rapidly. She had never heard about any car accident.

  “She broke her leg,” her dad continued. “She broke it so badly, it turned out, that she couldn’t skate anymore.” He got up from his chair and then sat back down again like he wasn’t sure how to finish the story.

  “Couldn’t she just go to physical therapy?” Maggie said, thinking about all the times she or Beatrice had gone to PT for various injuries.

  “Therapy wasn’t like it is today, Maggie,” he said. “Her leg was never quite the same. That may be why she’s so determined to give you girls what she couldn’t have.” He stopped then, letting the words sink in. He pulled Maggie close for a hug.

  As she held onto her dad, the charmed image she’d always had of her mother wavered and floated away. In its place appeared a young girl with a long white cast on her leg. It didn’t excuse her mother’s behavior. Still, the new image made Maggie feel terrible.

  “Thanks for telling me that, Dad,” Maggie said. “It helps.”

  “Sure, Maggie,” he said. “Remember that you can talk to her, too. You can let her know how you’re feeling.”

  Maggie nodded and headed upstairs to bed.

  Before she turned out the light, she glanced over and saw a photo of Beatrice and herself from the summer before at their grandparents’ house. They were wearing matching blue shorts and white shirts. With their matching blond hair, they appeared as identical as could be.

  Studying the photo closely, Maggie noticed the strained smile on her own face and remembered how annoyed she’d been that day. She remembered not wanting to take yet another picture of them looking like the same person.

  Maggie decided that maybe it was time to give her mother a break. Her mother deserved it. She had never gotten the chance to follow her own skating dreams. As she drifted off to sleep, Maggie caressed the fading blue spikes on her head. Maybe someday she could be who she wanted. But maybe not yet.

  CHAPTER 7

  SURRENDER

  Each day, Maggie and Beatrice drove with their mother to the ice skating rink and went to school. That was it. Between that and the long drive to practice with Coach Bennett, they didn’t have time for other outside activities. The pile of snacks and homework in the back of their minivan began to feel like a symbol for Maggie’s jumbled-up life.

  Beatrice was happier. She had fallen into her all-too-familiar role of being Coach Bennett’s star. Maggie watched every morning as they went through the details of Beatrice’s routine.

  Beatrice had the amazing ability to mimic each new move she was taught without any fear or hesitation. Coach Bennett praised Beatrice’s accomplishments. They were an ideal team.

  Maggie, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to make Coach Bennett proud of anything she did. She continued to skate technically okay, but she just didn’t care that much, despite her resolve to try harder for her mother. Her lack of fire showed with each half-hearted leap and turn. Even worse, when spinning, Maggie had occasional flashbacks to the one practice with Coach Stone when she felt like she had magic in her skates. In those moments, when she folded her body into the tiniest ball and spun faster and faster, her heart tripped in her chest like it was getting ready to come alive again.

  But then Coach Bennett’s voice would growl, “Point your toe, Magnolia! Tuck tighter!” and the spell would break. Maggie would slow her spin, and her heart would continue on with its normal, sleepy rhythm in time with the uninspiring music.

  When she felt frustrated, Maggie forced herself to think of her mother as a girl, her leg ruined, heartbroken knowing that she couldn’t skate anymore. She owed it to her mother to try and squish herself into that mold that was expected of her. Besides, she just didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Her hair was growing out, and the blue was almost completely washed away. She had even stopped insisting that everyone call her Maggie. She was back to Magnolia.

  * * *

  “Does your sister want to come sit with us?” Zoe asked one day at lunch. She pointed to Beatrice, who was sitting all alone at the next table over.

  “She’s not really talking to me right now,” Maggie said, opening up her lunch bag from home with a sense of dread.

  She reached in and pulled out a strange-looking sandwich. Was that a carrot in there? With peanut butter?

  Since they’d begun their early morning drives, the girls had been finding odd combinations in their lunch boxes. Their mother was usually half-asleep herself when she packed them. One day, Beatrice had gone to school with just a can of beans and an empty yogurt container.

  Maggie slid the carrot out of her sandwich and licked off the peanut butter. Huh, not bad. She peered over at Beatrice who had her new headphones on and was doodling in a notebook. I suppose that she’s probably mapping out her new routine or designing another ugly, frilly skating outfit, Maggie thought.

  Beatrice had a one-track mind when it came to ice skating.

  “Beatrice is so strange,” said Frankie, another girl at the table.

  Maggie was caught off-guard by the sudden flash of anger that swooped in. “Just leave her alone, Frankie,” she snapped. She smoothed her hair. “She’s just a really
good skater. If she focuses, our coach said she could maybe make it to Junior Worlds next year.”

  “Okay. Well, whatever,” Frankie said. Her face turned into the color of an overripe eggplant. She turned and started whispering to the girl on the other side of her.

  When their giggles erupted a second later, Maggie nearly lost it. She wanted desperately to throw her weird peanut butter sandwich at them. Finally, the girls left the table.

  As Maggie calmed down, she realized that she didn’t know what had just come over her. She, herself, could think Beatrice was an oddball. Sometimes she even said so. But she decided that she didn’t want anyone else talking poorly about her sister.

  That night, after begging their mother again to let them get hot lunch at school, Maggie, Beatrice, and their mother stopped at the grocery store to pick up some supplies.

  Maggie headed off to the chip aisle right away, hoping that she could sneak some salty contraband into her mother’s cart. Turning the corner, she barreled right into the torso of a very large person wearing a black T-shirt.

  “Sorry!” Maggie blurted.

  When she looked up, she saw Coach Stone. He smiled at her like they were some sort of long lost friends.

  “Maggie!” he said.

  “Hi, Coach Stone,” Maggie mumbled. She glanced around to make sure her mother or Beatrice weren’t anywhere near. That would have been even more embarrassing.

  “How’s skating practice going?” Coach Stone said, his face friendly and open.

  “Oh,” Maggie said, “okay.”

  She studied the chip labels on the shelf. She acted like they were the most interesting things in the world. She knew that she wasn’t being very convincing.

  Seeing Coach Stone made Maggie feel sad. The ache of wanting to have him as a coach almost felt like a wiggly tooth that she couldn’t reach.

  “Coach Bennett is just . . . really great,” Maggie said. She felt like her tongue had forgotten how to function.

  “Maggie,” Coach Stone said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

  Maggie jerked her eyes up to meet his. “Yeah?” she squeaked. She sounded just like mousy Beatrice, which bothered her.

  “You’ve got something really special in you, Maggie,” Coach Stone said. “Don’t let anyone take that away.” He smiled a sad little smile and patted her shoulder one last time.

  All Maggie could do was stare.

  Coach Stone turned and walked away, humming a tuneless song.

  Maggie stood stunned in the chip aisle. A river of tears ran down her face.

  CHAPTER 8

  ROCK-N-ROLL

  Maggie crept downstairs at midnight to get a glass of water.

  A light shone beneath the kitchen door. She paused when she realized that her parents were behind the door, talking in hushed voices. She distinctly heard her mother say “Magnolia.”

  Maggie automatically crouched down before she realized that crouching wasn’t going to exactly hide her if her parents left the kitchen. Feeling silly, she stood up again and pressed her ear against the door.

  “The driving back and forth is making our lives more complicated than it needs to be,” her dad said.

  “I know,” her mother said, her voice calm. “And you should have seen Magnolia’s face. She looked absolutely crushed.”

  Maggie realized that her mother was talking about that afternoon. After her encounter with Coach Stone, Maggie had run to the grocery store bathroom and splashed her face with cold water to cover up the tearstains. She’d hoped her mother hadn’t noticed, but clearly her mother had.

  “I think we should let her practice with Coach Stone again,” her dad said. “I don’t think we gave him enough of a chance.”

  Maggie crossed her fingers and her toes and squeezed her eyes shut. She wished with every part of her body that her mother would agree.

  After a long pause her mother exhaled and said, “I’m still not sure.”

  Without thinking, Maggie pushed open the door to the kitchen. Her parents both turned toward her in surprise.

  “Magnolia, what are you doing out of bed?” her mother asked.

  Maggie blushed and said, “I was thirsty, and then I heard you guys talking about me, and . . . ” She wasn’t sure how to continue.

  Caught off-guard, neither of her parents seemed to know what to say, either.

  Feelings of hope, fear, and courage swirled in Maggie. She decided in a flash that she had nothing to lose. “Mom, I’m your daughter, but I’m not like exactly you,” she said. “I’m never going to be exactly like you. I love crazy music and having blue hair and breaking the rules while skating.” Maggie took in a deep breath and continued. “I am the exact opposite of Beatrice, and I love her and you, but I can’t be her or you.”

  Her parents stood stock-still.

  Maggie felt the weight of her words float throughout the room. She searched desperately for a glimpse of understanding from her mother. “Please understand,” Maggie said. “Please.”

  Her father looked at her mother. Her mother looked at her father.

  Finally, her mother came over to her daughter. She took Maggie’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “Okay,” she said.

  * * *

  Maggie hugged her mother when she dropped her off at Coach Stone’s rink the next morning. “Thank you so much,” she said.

  Her mother drew her in tight like she’d done when Maggie was a little girl. Her mother smelled like perfume and gum and something else that was just uniquely her.

  They locked eyes, and her mother said, “I really just want you to be happy, Magnolia.”

  Beatrice pouted in the back seat.

  She was still going to train with Coach Bennett, at least until the next competition. After that, they would figure out if they wanted to continue on. Beatrice was used to getting her way, and she didn’t understand why Maggie was getting special treatment.

  “Bye, Beatrice,” Maggie taunted before she closed the door. “Have a fun drive!”

  Beatrice stared straight ahead.

  Maggie wiggled her fingers in a wave and then tried to push down the voice inside that told her she was being a brat. She went inside the arena, dressed, and made her way out to the rink.

  Coach Stone shook Maggie’s hand like she was a grownup. “Great to have you back,” he said.

  “It’s great to be back, Coach,” said Maggie. She skated out onto the ice to start her warm-ups.

  Bass pounded from the loudspeaker. Other girls were already warmed up and practicing jumps.

  Colorful skirts flew in a frenzy. Maggie, however, saw beauty and order in the frenzy. She’d never been so excited to be at practice.

  Coach Stone stopped Maggie while she was practicing her sit spin. She was breathless from the effort of trying to maintain a perfect position. She’d always felt, somehow, that spinning was her secret weapon. Practicing in front of Coach Stone had made her want to try even harder.

  “What’s up, Coach?” Maggie said.

  “We’re going to work on putting a harder spin combination into your routine,” Coach Stone said. He began to skate, showing off his fancy footwork. Coach Stone was always on the ice with his students, always skating. He seemed to love figure skating more than anyone Maggie had ever known, even Beatrice.

  “I’m thinking a camel to a Biellman,” said Coach Stone. “You have the flexibility, and I think you should try.”

  Maggie felt needles of doubt in her chest. The Biellman spin was an upright spin where the skater grabbed the foot behind their head. When Maggie thought about trying that, she felt unsure but tried not to let it show in her face. “Do you think I’m ready for that?” Maggie asked.

  “I know you’re ready,” Coach Stone said. He hit the top of the wall hard with his hand, jolting her out of her daydream. “But we better get to work if we want it ready for the competition.”

  Maggie had seen that spin combination done a thousand times by more experienced skaters. At that moment, for th
e first time, she couldn’t help but begin to imagine exactly how it would feel. The move seemed to be calling to her in a way that she couldn’t ignore. She practiced it with Coach Stone for a good portion of the practice.

  The next days passed in a blur of happiness for Maggie.

  Training with Coach Stone was everything she’d dreamt of. He listened to her ideas and didn’t think they were crazy at all. He called her creative and inventive instead of stubborn.

  But Coach Stone was also tough — tougher even than Coach Bennett. Maggie had to take ice baths every night to soothe her sore and aching muscles from all the extra work. She was having so much fun on the ice, though, that she didn’t seem to mind.

  CHAPTER 9

  MAGGIE ON STAGE

  Maggie had been working relentlessly on her brand new routine. She knew her mother wasn’t going to be thrilled with all of the details. If she pulled it off, though, her mother would finally see that different could be great, too.

  Maggie was going to skate to a rock-n-roll song, and she was going to be doing some footwork and spins that she’d created herself. But she had been spending most of her time practicing her new difficult spin combination.

  Her back and arms were sore and tired from falling over and over onto the hard ice, but she had never felt more alive. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together.

  The night before the competition, Maggie was scooting her peas around her plate. Her knees couldn’t seem to stop bouncing up and down under the table. She hoped that she was ready, but she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d become unbalanced during the Biellman spin earlier that day, and she was scared of the same thing happening when she was in front of hundreds of people. The nerves were beginning to peck their way under her skin and make a nasty little nest.

  “Are you girls excited for tomorrow?” their dad boomed suddenly, and the girls both startled.

  The tension between the sisters seemed to be escalating the closer it came to the competition. Never before did it seem so much like they were competing against each other.