Taking the Plunge

by J. B. Reynolds

  “Good morning,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Good,” he croaked. “You?”

  “Great. I can’t wait to get up the mountain.” She gestured to the intersection. “Did I startle you back there?”

  He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, sorry, I was on auto-pilot. Still half-asleep, I guess.”

  “Late night?”

  “Uh-huh. Didn’t sleep well.”

  “Me neither,” she said, winking. “Well, you ready to go?”

  He nodded. The muscles in his neck seemed to move of their own accord, making the decision for him.

  He watched as she turned and walked back to her car, unable to ignore how good her bum looked, swaying in the tight pink confines of her ski-suit. She set off, and he followed her the few kilometres to the carpark at the bottom of The Remarkables. The ski-field road was no highway — narrow, steep, and paved with loose and rutted gravel — it rose in a series of switchbacks more than a thousand metres from the bottom to the ski-field itself. If conditions were good, four-wheel-drive wasn’t a necessity, but it sure helped. Kate’s Santa Fe would provide a much more comfortable ascent than Evan’s aging Ford station-wagon.

  They parked and he transferred his snowboard and backpack into the gleaming Hyundai. He was about to hop in the passenger seat when Kate asked, “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

  “Umm, I don’t think so,” said Evan, shaking his head.

  Kate rolled her eyes at him. “The flowers, silly.”

  “Ahh… yeah…” he said, flushing, his stomach constricting. “I was gonna give them to you later.”

  She flashed a brilliant smile, her teeth the same shade of white as her car. “How sweet. But you can’t leave them in your car all day. I’ll wrap them in a moist towel when we get up the mountain — stop them drying out.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  He walked back to his car, stepping lightly to mask his frustration. He felt rudderless, like a piece of flotsam caught on a wave, powerless to turn against it. Unlocking his car, he paused, arms resting on the door frame. He closed his eyes, composing himself, then gathered the bouquet, locked the car and returned to Kate, handing her the flowers with a graceless smile.

  “They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. After the first gentle touch of their lips, she pushed her tongue into his mouth. He was surprised but didn’t resist, his heart beating faster, the blood stirring in his crotch.

  She pulled away and placed the bouquet on the centre console. He slowly exhaled. She put the car into gear and swung out of the carpark, pulling into the stream of traffic heading up the mountain.

  Turning to him, eyes bright and sparkling, she said, “What made you choose white?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. I just thought you’d like them.”

  “Oh, I do. I love roses, especially white ones. Do you know what they symbolise?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Loyalty.”

  “Oh.”

  EIGHTEEN

  At two-fifteen that afternoon, having dismounted from the top of the Shadow Basin lift, Kate slumped down on the snow to fasten her bindings. This was the most frustrating part of snowboarding — the uncomfortable little ritual required before every run — and she felt envious of the skiers who whizzed past her while she fumbled in the hard packed snow at the edge of the track.

  “Don’t clip in,” said Evan. “I’ve got something different in mind for this run. I think we should take a little walk.”

  “Where?”

  “Up there.” He indicated the summit of the mountain, a hundred or so metres above their heads.

  “Really?” said Kate, frowning. “That looks like hard work.”

  Evan shrugged. “It’s not that far, I promise. And look,” he said, pointing towards the ski-field road, “if we head down that face and come out on the road, there’s a shuttle bus that can take us back up to the carpark. Nothing like a powder run to end the day.”

  Kate followed his hand. A steep ridge dropped away from the summit. The snow face beneath it was only lightly traversed, a reward for those few who were prepared to make the hike. She returned her gaze to the summit. It looked a long way off and she was already sweating.

  She puffed her cheeks out, exhaling sharply. “Okay, then. I’m keen if you are,” she said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than she felt.

  A trail of footsteps led from the bank of snow above the edge of the run to the summit. Evan followed these, with Kate behind him. It made the going somewhat easier, although occasionally her foot would break through the crust and sink, and it was a struggle to pull it out again. By the time they got to the top, fifteen minutes later, Kate’s brow was glistening with sweat, and she felt uncomfortably sticky beneath her jumpsuit.

  They sat down to catch their breath and she took a long draft from her water bottle, admiring the view. Lake Wakatipu stretched westward below, bright blue and basking in the glow of a sunny afternoon. Everywhere else there were mountains, snow-covered peaks strung with cotton-ball wisps of cloud, range after range to the horizon in all directions, the lake an oasis in a desert of snow and jagged rock.

  She’d had a wonderful day. The conditions were almost perfect — there’d been a light dusting of snow overnight, and for the first few runs she’d been able to carve turns in fresh powder, before the morning’s traffic churned it up. As the day progressed and she grew in confidence, Evan had taken her down more challenging runs. She still bailed from time to time, but for the most part she had handled these with aplomb, making smooth, controlled turns off either edge, even on steep terrain.

  “You ready?” asked Evan, disturbing her reverie.

  She nodded. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

  They clipped into their bindings, with Kate cranking hers as tight as she could. Evan set off, heading along the ridge, Kate cautiously following. A little further on the ridge trail ended at a towering rockmount and dropped away down the face of the mountain. Evan waved at her and then plunged downward, carving great flowing arcs into the mountainside, snow spraying out in waves from beneath his feet.

  Kate stopped, digging her heel-side edge into the snow. It was the steepest slope she had tackled yet. She drew a deep breath, shifted her weight, then dove down the mountain behind him. While the angle was steep, the snow was soft and she copied Evan’s stance, bending at the knees, back straight, shifting her weight from heel to toe and back again, carving a sidewinder trail through the white. She realised there was far less chance of catching an edge here than on the hard-packed snow of the main trails, and she pushed the nose of her board further down the slope between turns, increasing her speed.

  When she turned, watching the powder lift and float away in parabolic curves, the mountain came alive beneath her. She shivered with excitement, an electric spark that began at her feet and shot up through her legs to her pelvis, where it lingered, spiralling and warm, before climbing up her spine and out the top of her skull. She shrieked with glee.

  Below her, Evan turned and stopped in a plume of white. He watched her, smiling broadly as she approached. He’d seemed pre-occupied in the morning, courteous yet distant, but his manner had warmed as the day progressed, along with the weather. They’d bought filled rolls from the cafe and shared a short but intimate lunch away from the crowds at the top of the Anzac Trail, perched on a rock and chatting freely. It had taken all her self-control not to launch herself at him then and there, her thoughts returning to the previous day — to a vision of him wearing her too-small dressing gown, to the inviting tuft of chest hair sprouting from above the collar and the gentle bulge hummocked below the waist tie.

  She leaned her heel into the snow as she came near, digging deep, trying to mimic the graceful way Evan had halted and was almost successful. She slowed, delighted in the wave that flowed and spread from beneath her board, but then overbalanced, flailing wildly in an attempt to correct herself. She gave up, fell on her arse and skidded the last
few metres to stop beside Evan. He laughed and held out his hand. She giggled and shook her head.

  “No, I’m fine. I meant to do that.”

  Evan nodded, eyebrows peeking over the rim of his mirrored Oakleys. “Course you did.” He looked back up the mountain, his gaze following their trail. “Enjoy that?”

  Kate lifted her goggles and turned her head up the slope, squinting in the sunlight. “I loved it! I felt so alive!”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s the best feeling there is. Even better than sex, I reckon.”

  She giggled again. “Oh, I’m not sure about that.”

  Evan smiled at her, then turned and pointed down the slope. “See that gully there?”

  “Uh-huh.” Not far away, she could see a jagged grey scar slashed into the snow below them, running roughly perpendicular to the ridge above. “What about it?” she asked.

  “Well, it gives us a choice. If you want, we can pass above it and continue along the ridge. Or, if you’re up for the challenge we can drop into it and come out further down. It’s pretty steep, but it forms a natural half-pipe so you can practise your jumps.”

  She snorted. “I don’t think I’m ready for jumps just yet.”

  “Oh, I dunno. You’re doing great — you carved that face up like a pro. Well, all except for the last few metres.” He gave a cheeky grin and she wished he would take his glasses off so she could see his eyes.

  “I bet you’d like to do some jumps though, huh?”

  Evan shrugged. “Maybe. But if you’re too chicken…”

  She pulled down her goggles. “Nobody calls me chicken.”

  Evan held out his hand and she clutched it, allowing him to pull her up. “All right then,” he said, once she was stable. He let go her hand, pointed his board down the slope and dropped away. “Let’s catch some aaair!”

  Kate watched him go, smooth and elegant, balletic almost, dancing over the snow, then swivelled and followed him. He pulled to a halt at the top of the gully, waiting for her.

  She stopped next to him and looked into the gully. About two body lengths deep, it was steep but wide. The far side of the cleft was purple grey with shadow, the near side a bright, sparkling white. It wasn’t straight, unlike the man-made half-pipe in the jump park, but twisted and turned on its path down the mountain. She would have to be careful. Here and there rocks protruded from beneath the snow cover — if she lost control the consequences could be ugly.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  She gulped, but nodded.

  “It’s not as scary as it looks, honest. You’ll be fine.”

  He plummeted down the face of the gully and up the other side, turning, heading down again, moving faster. He hit the top of the near side, slashing across the lip. With the next pass, his momentum carried him over the rim and into clear air. At the top of the arc he arched his back, grabbed a rail with one hand and raised his arm in a kind of salute with the other, then dropped, stomping his board back onto the face. The following pass saw him fly even higher, crouching and spinning a lazy circle. At this point, the gully twisted and she lost sight of him until he popped up above the edge again, seeming to hover, bee-like, before falling away.

  She returned her gaze to the slope beneath her feet, swallowed and dropped in. The side was almost vertical and her stomach knotted in fear, but then she hit the curving floor and flicked the tail of her board out, checking her speed. She crossed and went up the other side, turning easily as friction and gravity slowed her, perhaps three-quarters of the way up the face. On the return pass, the apex of her arc came a little closer to the top. Gathering speed, she sliced through the turn where she had seen Evan disappear, passing between two black, exposed rocks, then hurtled further down the slope.

  On the next pass, she reached the lip, the ski-field buildings blipping into view, before she dropped in again. Cackling with pleasure, she darted through another bend in the cleft and up the far side, catching a glimpse of Evan waiting at the gully’s end, where it flattened out and melted into the powdered face of the mountain again. She flew down, across, and up, down, across and up, falling into a natural rhythm, feeling one with the mountain.

  Approaching Evan, she felt confident enough to attempt a jump. Flashing up the side of the gully, she gave an extra push as she hit the top and rose into the air. She saw Evan wave as she flew, reaching the peak of her parabola, then descended. Too late she realised she’d been over-eager — the angle of her board was all wrong, her weight too far forward. Her stomach rose with the ground to meet her and she shrieked as her legs collapsed and she tipped forward. Her momentum carried her legs over her head and she flipped, her face pushed into the snow as her legs traced a circle and she landed heavily on her back. The edge of her board caught, flinging her around until she was sliding head first along the floor of the gully. Oh God, she thought, please don’t let there be rocks. She dug her heels in, slowing down, finally coming to a halt. She lay there, stunned, looking up at the blue sky and threads of cloud and the hot white stab of the sun.

  “Kate!”

  Too shocked to move, she heard the crunch of snow as Evan ran up the slope towards her. He entered her field of view, sunglasses raised and brow furrowed with concern. Falling to her side, he said, “Are you hurt?”

  She considered his question, gingerly moving her arms and legs. “No… I don’t think so.” His expression was so worried that she laughed.

  The wrinkles in his brow deepened. “What’s so funny? I’m sorry, I should never—”

  “Oh, Evan. Come here.”

  Giggling, she grabbed him, pulling him down, then — aided by gravity and the slope of the terrain — rolled on top of him. She kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth, forcing his lips apart. He tensed briefly, then relaxed, allowing her tongue to play across his, thrusting his back in return.

  She slid her hand down his side and onto his crotch, where she felt him stiffen beneath the thick fabric of his snow-pants. She squeezed, gently, and he gave a low moan. She kissed him again, her hand searching for his zipper. She undid it, slipped her hand inside, beneath the waistband of his underpants, running it through the fuzz of his pubic hair.

  He moaned again, and she nibbled on his lip. He shut his eyes and arched his back, and she raised her head, studying him. “Come home with me,” she whispered.

  “Could do,” he murmured back.

  Emboldened by the spreading warmth between her legs, she moved down Evan’s body. It was awkward, with her snowboard still attached to her feet, but she lifted it up and slid her knees across the snow until her head was level with his crotch. She popped the dome on his snow-pants and parted the slit into a V, then pulled the front of his boxer briefs down, exposing him to the mountain air. He shivered, though whether it was from cold or pleasure she couldn’t say.

  “Jeez,” he breathed, “what are you doing?”

  “Can’t have you getting a chill now, can we?” she said, smiling.

  He answered with sounds, but she couldn’t make language from them. She put her smile to work, head bobbing rhythmically, like a duck on a swell.

  “Watch out!” came a shout from above her. She looked up to see a snowboarder in a bright yellow jacket bearing down on them. She braced herself but the boarder cut an arc and skimmed past, throwing up a spray of snow that flew straight into her face. She sat back on her knees, spitting out snow, the boarder giving her the fingers as he raced away.

  Another snowboarder followed, slower, sliding to a halt beside them. “I like your style, guys,” he said lightly, “but you need to pick a better spot. You’re lucky Nacho didn’t take you out.”

  “Yeah,” said Evan, sitting up, hands covering his crotch, cheeks glowing red. “Sorry. We’ll get out of the way.”

  The boarder shook his head, sniggering, then continued down the mountain.

  Kate turned to Evan, mortified, and he laughed.

  “Don’t laugh! It’s not funny.”

  “Is too.”
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  She looked down at his exposed member, now slowly sinking, and then she laughed as well. He tucked it into his pants and stood, fastening the zip and dome. Reaching down, he pulled her to her feet and they kissed again, hot and hard. She closed her eyes, mumbling through pressed lips.

  “Oh, E-en. I uv ou.”

  Evan jerked his head back. “What did you say?”

  Kate opened her eyes and saw the frown on his face. “Nothing,” she said.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You did too! You said, I love you.”

  She shrugged. “What I meant was I love spending time with you. It just came out wrong. Forget about it.”

  Evan shook his head, stepping backwards. “How can you love me? We hardly know each other.”

  “I didn’t mean it. I was concentrating on the feeling of your tongue in my mouth, not what I was saying.”

  “You can’t love me! This is only our third date, for chrissakes!”

  “There’s no need to get upset about it. It just popped out in the heat of the moment. What’s the big deal?”

  “What’s the big deal? Christ, Kate, the deal is you haven’t known me long enough to say you love me.”

  “Stop blaspheming, please.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You’re taking the name of the Lord in vain.”

  “Oh, my God! You’re the one giving out blow-jobs in public!”

  “You weren’t complaining!” Kate slumped back onto the snow, tears welling.