AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If they’re not doing anything dangerous, what business do I have trying to get them to see the same reality as everyone else? Sometimes reality sucks.
We wouldn’t have fairytales if the idea of talking animal friends didn’t appeal to most of us. So, if Lynette wants to live in a world where squirrels are her friends, but she’s worried about aliens, why not help her worry less about the aliens being her enemies?
I’m still thinking about Lynette when I step on the ice with the hockey stick and puck. Ten seconds later, I’m flat on my back. I leave the puck where it is and use the stick to push myself back to my skates.
I take a few tentative baby glides, but my ankles already want to give out on me. They keep trying to roll to the side, but after afew more glides, I’ve got the hang of how to stay upright. As long as I move very, very, slowly.
Obviously, there’s no wall to hold on to, so I stay close to the edge of the pond. Just in case I have to crawl back to my shoes. I’d rather crawl through brush and snow than over ice.
After about ten minutes, I’m able to glide more smoothly, although the ice is bumpy. It’s frozen in wind-blown ripples, which is fascinating to me. There’s something so peaceful about water in motion suddenly being frozen. Like time is standing still right here on this pond.
By the time I’m ready to try to hit the puck, I have the tiniest sense of what Bear loves about this pond. I can picture his mom holding his hand, guiding him. Picking him up when he falls, brushing him off, and telling him to give it another try.
I tap the puck into a place where I can take a good swing at it. I face the opposite end of the pond, which feels very far away. My chest is as empty as the space between me and the fields that surround this place.
Sadness fills the space as I think of this pond—a piece of Bear’s history—being gone. For the first time, I feel like I understand him.
But I also know that time doesn’t actually stand still.
This pond will thaw. The water will move again. And, like the poem says, nothing gold can stay.
My bookstore will preserve Paradise’s history, not just Bear’s, and serve the whole city, not just his hockey team. It’s the better choice for the shop than tearing it down.
I just wish Bear could see that.
I take a good swing at the puck, nearly falling over. Despite my force, the puck doesn’t travel far, and I have to skate to the middle of the pond to take another swing.
I don’t know how long I stay out there, but by the time I go back to my studio, I get why Bear loves the pond. I still don’t getwhy he loves hockey, and I’m not giving up my fight to keep the shop, but I understand why the pond is sentimental for him.
Then my phone dings with a text from my partner, Carlos. I stare at the notification with the name of the person I used to talk to every single day, trying to make it fit in this space I’m in now, so far from LA.
I told Carlos when I got the notice about my leave that I didn’t want to hear anything about work unless it was good news. I haven’t heard from him in three weeks. Suddenly, I’ve been sucked into a time warp, pulled back into the old life I’m not sure I want to go back to, no matter what the good news is.
I peel off my coat and all my layers, make myself a cup of coffee, then settle onto the daybed to finally open the text.
I have to read half a dozen times to believe it.
Markham’s been put on leave. Word is more complaints have come in.
Chapter 30
Bear
That night, I arrive at City Hall with a fresh haircut, wearing dress slacks and a button-up shirt, and…
totally naked.
At least, that’s what it feels like to be beardless. I haven’t been this hairless since I was sixteen. I talked myself into believing the Miners could keep winning even if I was clean-shaven for my presentation to the city council. I didn’t really believe it, but I knew the members of the city council—who have a median age of seventy-five, I did the math—would listen better if they weren’t distracted by the need to tell me to get a haircut and shave.
The Miners won yesterday, even without my beard, and I’m happy about that. But once this presentation is out of the way, I’ll need to process the meaning of beards if it’s not to make sure my team wins. What are they even for?
Worse than my mini existential crisis is that every time I reach up to smooth my beard, all I feel is baby soft cheeks.
That’s exactly what I look like, too. A giant baby. Instead of making a good impression on the city council, they’ll take one look at me and think I’m even younger than I actually am. I should be ready to walk confidently into the council chambers, but I climb out of my Jeep feeling like an overgrown kid.
That all changes when I reach the doors to City Hall. My girls and a few of their parents greet me, waving signs that say things like,Hey, Hey, Let Us Play!andGreen Space & Hockey for Everyone!I break into a smile, and they shout their slogans at the top of their lungs.
My confidence lifts, then swells with each new chant; until one of them squeals about my missing beard and the rest join in
