Impulse

by Steven Gould

  “That was a good run, Cent. You still need to get out of the gate quicker,” Ricardo said. He pointed at Carl. “Guys can heave themselves out pretty quick, ’cause they have more upper-body strength, but you keep doing your turns like that last run and you can make up the difference. Still, heave yourself out of the gate.” He gestured again to Carl. “Show her how you do it. You two make the next run together.”

  The gate had two pipe-like uprights that you grab to pull yourself out. I wasn’t used to it, so I’d used them more as supports, afraid I would lose my balance, if I pulled too hard.

  Carl and I rode the lift together and he talked about meeting the gates. It was okay to brush against them with your body, but the board had to stay clear, something I hadn’t always managed on my first few runs.

  At the top, we went into the gates and he demoed his launch a couple of time. “You try it.”

  I fell over twice and he laughed at me.

  Right.

  “Let’s do the run,” I said.

  When the signal flashed, I didn’t use the uprights to launch myself. Instead, I jumped in place, adding an instant twenty miles per hour out the gate. I flew twelve feet through the air before my board hit the snow. I was through the first three gates before Carl reached the first one, and maintained that lead all the way down.

  “Nice heaving,” Ricardo said. “You sure you didn’t do slalom before?

  “Just lucky,” I said.

  Carl looked mystified.

  Ricardo sent us back up and I toned it way down, getting out of the gate under muscle power alone. I didn’t mind out-carving Carl, but the jumping thing was cheating. Carl beat me down the rest of the day, but on the last run I stayed right on his tail, crossing the line only a half a board behind him.

  I was exhausted by the time we got to the van. I dropped my bags in the growing pile and sat in the open sliding door. We were leaving a half hour before the lifts closed to try and beat the traffic, but lots of people streamed down the stairs to the parking lots, apparently with the same idea. I was watching them idly, not really paying attention, when I saw Dad go by. He was looking back at me and when he saw I’d seen him, he raised his eyebrows and jerked his head back up toward the main building, then turned around and walked back up.

  I shook my head and followed him.

  “Where you going?” asked Jade.

  “Bathroom break,” I said.

  “We just went,” she said.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  Dad was waiting just inside, between day care and one of the ski shops.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just thought I’d give you the chance to avoid another two-hour drive. I can ‘show up’ and say I’m driving you home.”

  “And how did you get here? You don’t like to drive.”

  He smiled. “No, of course not. I took the shuttle bus from town.”

  Ah. We’d driven through Durango on our way from Colorado Springs, where we’d rented the truck. Dad must’ve secured a jump site then. And now he had one at the ski area, too.

  “And what happens if Jade asks to ride with us?”

  He shrugged. “The car is full of furniture. I’ve only got room for one.”

  It was tempting. My muscles were already stiffening up. I couldn’t imagine what they’d be like after two hours in the van. So of course I said, “No. I’m in this with Jade. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

  Dad looked unhappy.

  “I’m sorry you went to all that trouble.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that. Driving isn’t … well … it isn’t safe.” He shrugged. “I worry.”

  Now that was the understatement of the year.

  “I’ll see you at the cabin.” Jade didn’t need my company—she slept the whole trip back and I got a cramp in my thigh.

  Jade’s dad met the van at the school and they dropped me off on their way home. I didn’t even walk down the hill. Once they were out of sight, I jumped directly to the Yukon, stowed my equipment, and took a long soak in the hot tub.

  * * *

  I spent the first part of Sunday in bed. Mom poked her head in a couple of times but left me to it, mostly. When I did stumble down to the kitchen, she was wearing a cotton sari over a short-sleeved blouse.

  She said, “I’m going to be in Banaripara for the rest of the day.”

  I blinked. “Uh, Bangladesh?”

  She nodded. “Right. Flooding.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “Don’t think so. Just meetings right now. If it changes I’ll let you know.”

  She vanished.

  Dad was off someplace, too, though he popped in at eleven. “Have you seen Mom’s binoculars?”

  “The image stabilized ones?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think they’re at the house. Mom was looking at birds. By the kitchen window, I think.”

  “Ah.” He left.

  I jumped to the kitchen in time to see him vanish again, binoculars in hand. Oh well. Glad he found them but I felt a little abandoned—even more so when I checked my phone for texts and messages and there weren’t any.

  I went back to the cabin and threw my clothes in the wash, did the one bit of homework I had, then cleaned both my bedrooms. It surprised me how little time that took. Guess I didn’t mess them up as much when I was at school all week.

  I thought of taking one of my boards off to Durango or Niseko Village, but my muscles were stiff enough as it was.

  Instead, I jumped to an alley near Krakatoa.

  It was windy and cold, the sky overcast. The snow piled high from last week’s plows hadn’t had a chance to melt. Most of the sidewalks were clear but you had to watch out for patches of ice. City maintenance workers were knocking down the dangerously large icicles forming on the edges of roofs. I hurried out of the alley and into the warmth of the coffee shop.

  Sure it was colder in the Yukon, but hot springs kept the house above seventy even if it was below zero outside. And we hardly ever went outside the cabin this time of year.

  I bought a tea but didn’t see Jade or Tara. I wandered upstairs, but they weren’t on the balcony, either. I took my phone out of my pocket several times, but each time I put it back without calling or texting anyone. I didn’t want to come across as “needy.” Maybe later in the day.

  I was turning to walk back downstairs when I saw two figures outside, through the glass door. It was Dakota and Tony, two-thirds of my fan club, coming into the coffee shop. I thought about going back into the dark corner of the balcony and jumping away before they saw me, but they didn’t make it through the door.

  Caffeine, also outside, stepped in front of the door, blocking it. I recognized her by her jacket, her dark roots, and her attitude. She wasn’t alone—two guys stepped behind Dakota and Tony. Two big guys.

  Tony stepped back, closing ranks with Dakota, his eyes wide.

  I went down the stairs but as my head dropped below the railing, I jumped back outside, to my jump site in the alley. When I peered around the corner, I saw Caffeine, her arms linked with Tony’s and Dakota’s, walking down the sidewalk, the two bruisers right behind them.

  It looked all friendly until you noticed that Tony and Dakota were both leaning away from Caffeine.

  There were a few cars moving on the street, but no pedestrians. I jumped closer to Caffeine’s group, across the street to where a brownstone had an old-fashioned stoop that blocked my position from them, but I needn’t have bothered. They didn’t look around, so I followed them, careful not to scuff my feet. When they turned right at the next intersection, I ducked into a doorway, in case they looked back up the street.

  I peeked down the cross street in time to see them pulling Tony and Dakota into an alley.

  That can’t be good.

  I thought about getting Dad, but he wasn’t home—he’d come for the binoculars and left. Mom was in Bangladesh. I could call 911—I had my cell phone—but Dad was pretty clear on
that. Keep away from the authorities in general. We had pretty good ID, but you poke and pry enough and the fabric tears, the dyes fade.

  Dammit!

  I stepped into the alley, trying not to crunch in the crusty snow, and saw exactly the sort of scene I’d been imagining. One of the big guys held Tony from behind, one arm across Tony’s throat, while his other arm cranked Tony’s wrist up between Tony’s shoulder blades. The other guy had Dakota facedown in the dirty snow, straddling him, his knees on Dakota’s shoulders.

  Caffeine was talking. “You bitches don’t quit me. You’re my little butt boys, or do I have to remind you?” She swung her cupped hand up into Tony’s crotch, rubbing him through his jeans.

  Tony did not look like he was enjoying it.

  I held up my phone and said, loudly, “Uh, could you do that again, but this time smile? It’s for the yearbook.”

  All of them, even Dakota, flat on the ground, twisted to look at me.

  “Get that picture!” yelled Caffeine.

  I waited there until all three of them were in motion. The quickest was the guy who’d been holding Tony, but Caffeine and the guy on top of Dakota were right behind. When they were still ten feet away, I stepped around the corner then jumped half a block to Main Street. They came out of the alley and slowed, not seeing me at first.

  I held up my phone with both hands, like I was composing another photograph.

  Caffeine said, “There!” and sprinted toward me.

  When they were uncomfortably close, I stepped around the corner, intending this time to jump to the alley behind Krakatoa, but a man and woman were walking toward me, ten feet away, with three dalmatians on long leads.

  “Excuse me!” I yelled, and dashed around them, barely avoiding the dogs, straining at the full length of their leashes. I concentrated all my effort on running, looking straight ahead, but the eruption of barking and yelling that followed immediately told me that Caffeine and her peeps had not been as successful in avoiding the dogs or their leashes.

  I reached the spot where the old stone stoop came down off the brownstone, ducked behind it, and jumped back to the alley behind the coffee shop. It was really the same alley they’d been threatening Dakota and Tony in, only a block over. I started back up it, but froze at the sound of feet crunching through the snow. My view was blocked by a parked delivery truck. I stepped behind a Dumpster and peered over it.

  Dakota and Tony came pounding around the truck. I stepped out into the alley proper and struck a pose. “’Sup?”

  They stumbled to a stop.

  “You’re all right!” Tony swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat.

  “Sure. Are you?”

  Dakota rubbed at a scrape on his chin. He looked like he wanted to be nonchalant and cool, but his voice shook. “F-fine.”

  Tony wasn’t even trying to look calm. “Where are they?”

  I gestured north, toward Main Street. “They got tangled up with a couple walking their dogs. I lost them.”

  Dakota looked up and down the alley. “Are you sure?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Reasonably sure.”

  Tony stepped past me to the other side of the Dumpster, huddling up against the wall. “Did you really take a picture of them?”

  I shook my head. “No. Just wanted to get their attention.”

  “Damn,” said Dakota. “We could’ve used it.”

  I scratched my head. “Is the yearbook really that hard up for material?”

  Dakota looked at me, confused, then shook his head. “Uh, no. We might have been able to trade it.”

  “Trade it? For what?”

  He looked at Tony and they both dropped their eyes.

  I heard a familiar voice from the street and pulled Dakota over to join me and Tony behind the Dumpster. We ducked as Caffeine and her two peeps jogged by, looking back over their shoulders toward Main Street but not down the alley.

  Softly, I said, “Wonder what happened with the nice doggies?” I straightened. “Anyway, you ladies were about to go into the coffee shop?”

  Tony said, “Don’t call us ladies.” It wasn’t quite a shout but he was angry. I took a step back.

  Dakota put his hand on Tony’s arm.

  “Calm down. She’s not Caffeine.”

  I licked my lips. “Sorry. Let me rephrase it. Would you guys like to join me back at Krakatoa?”

  They didn’t come out of the alley until they’d both peered around the corner and made sure Caffeine was gone. When we went over to the coffee shop entrance, there was a police car pulled over in the next block. I thought about going over there to see what had happened, but the couple with the dogs might recognize me.

  “Dakota, go see what happened.”

  “You go see what happened!”

  “They’ll recognize me. Go on—I’ll buy you a drink.”

  He looked down the cross street again, to see if Caffeine was coming back. “All right, but make it a large.”

  “A large what?”

  “Mocha. Extra whipped cream.”

  “Right.”

  Dakota came back about the time the drinks were ready. When we were seated at the back of the balcony, he said, “They knocked the man down and he hit his head. His wife called 911. They asked me if I’d witnessed it.”

  I felt bad. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. A little blood. A goose egg. They’re going to the ER just in case.”

  Crap. “Wish I’d run the other way.”

  “You didn’t knock him down, did you?” Tony asked

  I shook my head.

  “How’d you find us?” asked Dakota.

  “I saw them intercept you on the sidewalk.” I pointed downstairs. “I was up here. You didn’t look happy.”

  They looked at each other, then back at me, without saying anything.

  “Was I wrong? Would it have been better if I hadn’t stuck my big nose in?”

  They spoke at the same time. Dakota said, “Yes.” Tony said, “No.” They looked away from me and each other.

  “Really?” I said.

  Dakota said, “It’s not that we don’t appreciate it, but you may have made it worse.”

  “How much worse?” said Tony. “From my viewpoint, it’s about as bad as it can get!”

  “Oh, yeah! And when the video is all over school?” said Dakota.

  Tony clamped his mouth shut.

  “What video?” I asked.

  Dakota looked away. “None of your business.”

  I looked at Tony. He was looking down at the table. He shook his head without saying anything. I took a napkin and tore it in half. I wrote my phone number on each piece, set them on the table, and walked away.

  * * *

  I wasn’t very happy with Tony and Dakota. They were being stupid and I wondered what kind of stupidity they’d been involved in earlier. I didn’t have a lot of personal experience with them, but everything I’d read and everything I’d seen, showed me that teenage boys didn’t always make wise decisions.

  And, apparently, they’d managed to get the results of one decision recorded on video.

  I walked back around to the alley. I didn’t know what Tony and Dakota would do. It wasn’t really my business, even if Caffeine was involved. It was cold outside, too.

  Dammit.

  I’d need some warmer clothes.

  I returned to the alley thirty seconds later, the extra clothes clutched under one arm. I’d left my usual snowboarding coat behind and was shivering, but I hadn’t wanted the boys to leave before I got back.

  There were no windows opening on the alley where I stood but you couldn’t see the front door of Krakatoa and somebody could walk or drive up the alley at any time and see me.

  I jumped in place, adding enough velocity to rise fifty feet up. When I could clearly see the roof behind the balustrade, I jumped to the center, near the A/C unit.

  I kneeled on the gravel-covered tar and looked around. Most of this roof was clear of snow, probably m
elted by the building’s heat, though snow still drifted against the west and south balustrades. One building in the immediate vicinity rose to six stories, higher than the coffee shop, but that was the Wells Fargo Bank and it was Sunday, so I doubted anyone was in there. Even if they were, they would’ve had to be looking at this building at exactly the right time to see anything odd.

  I shivered. The wind was brisker up here. I pulled on a fleece and then my sheepskin-lined gray hoodie. Before I pulled the hood up, I put on my helmet liner, a black balaclava that came down over my forehead and up over my nose. Good as a ninja mask, any day.

  Now I was warm enough and I could do stuff without necessarily being recognized.

  The boys left a few minutes later—slowly, tentatively. I had no idea where they lived or even if they were going home. After deciding the immediate vicinity was clear, they headed east up Main. I thought about jumping down to the sidewalk and following them but I just watched instead. When they got to the next block, I jumped to the roof of the building on that corner. This building either had better insulation or they hadn’t been running the heat as much ’cause I found myself standing in two feet of snow.

  On the sidewalk below, Tony and Dakota peered around the corner, then went south on Fourth Street.

  A few more blocks later, the commercial downtown changed to residential, and I couldn’t jump from pitched roof to pitched roof in broad daylight without attracting attention. I jumped home and got my binoculars. They weren’t image stabilized like Mom’s, but they were good enough to stay well behind Tony and Dakota while keeping an eye on them. Walking was better, anyway. The wind wasn’t quite as sharp at ground level and I’d been getting cold sitting motionless on the roofs.

  They stopped, finally, in front of a split-level ranch, its front yard dominated by a huge blue spruce. Tony, his back to the house, gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. Dakota looked down at the crusted snow for a moment, then shook his head. Tony shrugged and went to the house, unlocking the door with a key.

  Dakota continued on down the sidewalk, his head swiveling to check the street. I was a full block away, watching him through binoculars across the hood of an SUV. When he reached the corner, he cut left on Maple.