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  The telemarking practice session with Tim had been a disaster. I’d spent more time eating snow than skiing on it. I was a total spaz on skis.

  “It’s okay, Mike,” Tim had said. “Telemarking takes a lot of getting used to. You can’t expect to learn it all in one day. Especially if you don’t already know how to downhill ski.”

  I bet I was the only Explorer who didn’t know how to ski already. Tim was a competitive ski racer and a champion mountain biker. I wanted to punch him in the mouth sometimes. He was way too sporty for his own good.

  I didn’t know how I was going to hack the ski trip. I thought about faking sick. But making an idiot out of myself on a ski hill was better than hanging out with Dad and Big Lips.

  We were close to the helicopter port. We had to stop for some road construction. I saw a row of Derbin Juvenile Facility jackets. A bunch of Derbin kids were picking up garbage on the other side of the ditch. They were a pretty rough-looking bunch.

  One of them turned around to face the bus.

  Chris. I’d almost forgotten about him.

  He spotted me right away. He lifted his right arm and raised his middle finger. He held it up with a calm look on his face. I don’t think anyone else noticed.

  The helicopter ride was just about the coolest thing ever. I was in a group with Lisa, Kayla, Jen and Maggie. We flew straight up the face of the mountain, in between the trees. It was just like in a movie, with that choppy helicopter-blade sound and everything. That helicopter had to make six trips up and down the mountain to get all of us up there.

  We landed on a helicopter pad, right next to an A-frame cabin with fancy black shutters. A “Swiss-style chalet,” everyone was saying. How hoity-toity. A sign next to the cabin said: Welcome to the Cascade Mountains Heli-Ski Area.

  We were way up, almost in the clouds. It was totally unreal.

  “Woohoo, backcountry!” Lisa squealed.

  I had never seen such deep snow. The branches of the trees hung low, with huge white marshmallows all over them. It was just us, a cabin, lots of huge trees and tons of snow.

  We hauled all our stuff inside the cabin. It had one big room downstairs with couches and a table. Upstairs there were separate boys’ and girls’ bedrooms with bunk beds. The only problem: no indoor toilets—outhouses only. We were going to freeze our butts off. Kayla, Tim and I went down the path next to the cabin to check them out.

  “Holy crap, you guys, look at this!” said Tim, looking down the toilet into the outhouse hole.

  “Pointy crap, more like it,” said Kayla. The inside of the toilet was not the usual sloppy outhouse muck. This outhouse crap was frozen into a perfect pyramid of poop. I’d never seen anything like it.

  Of course we had to call everyone else out to look at it.

  When we got back into the cabin, Maggie had a fire going. Rick cooked a big pot of pasta with artichoke hearts and goat cheese. It was fancier than I usually like, but it was really good. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to blow after all.

  But soon enough it was time to go out in the snow.

  “Okay, gang,” Maggie said once we were all suited up. “Grab your partner.”

  I looked around. Lisa and Tim were already clowning around. Lisa used to want to be my partner. But not anymore.

  Lisa had already tried to talk to me a few times that day, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. There were no more cute little nicknames. No more playful slaps on the shoulder. No more partnering up. No more magic.

  I was partners with Jill. She was a Granola, all right, but I could count on her to suck as much as I did at telemarking. She blabbed away at me as we put on our skis.

  “This is so cool!” she said. “People pay, like, thousands of dollars to go heli-skiing. And we get to do it for free!”

  At first it seemed okay. A lot of the Granolas had never been telemark skiing, either, so even they were wobbly at first. That made me feel better. Jill giggled whenever she fell down.

  I felt so good about not being the only one who didn’t get it that I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Before long, though, the Granolas started getting the hang of it. Of course they did. Even Jill started swooshing along.

  And there I was, still stuck at the all-you-can-eat snow buffet.

  I looked up as the Granolas glided down the hill past me, beautiful as birds. Birds wearing expensive ski gear. I was wearing a too-small jacket and bright orange ski pants from the poor kid closet. Thanks, Rick and Maggie.

  I was still laying there, trying to use my poles to get up when the Granolas all turned around to start hiking back up the hill.

  That’s another awesome thing about telemark skiing. When you get to the bottom of the hill, there’s no fancy chairlift to get you back up to the top. Nope, you have to be hardcore and hike all the way back up the hill you just skied down. You have to attach these things called skins to the bottom of your skis, which give you friction so that you can go uphill. The skins looked like long fruit roll-ups with a furry side and a sticky side. You stick the sticky side on the bottom of your ski. And you’re supposed to take off one ski at a time to put them on. I had no idea how that would be possible.

  I hoped that whoever invented telemark skiing died a horrible death. And if they weren’t already dead, I wanted to kill them.

  I wiggled my backpack off to get out my skins, which were rolled up in the front pouch. The Granolas could all balance on one ski, take off their other ski and stick the skin on. What a bunch of show-offs.

  After about a million years, Rick announced that we were going back to the cabin. The plan was to ski the long way back.

  “The long way back?” I moaned to no one in particular.

  My soaking wet toque dripped icy water into my jacket and down my back. My hair was plastered across my forehead. My legs and arms ached from falling down so much. I probably had frostbite. This day was never, ever, ever going to end.

  Tim, and then Kayla, skied past me. They asked if I was okay. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered.

  I stood there watching all the Granolas get way ahead of me until they became little dots. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. I looked around. What was the short way back to the cabin?

  Finally I started to move, one ski in front of the other. But every time I went two steps I’d fall. After five, six or maybe a hundred and fifty-six times, I just stayed down. I imagined myself freezing to death. I imagined Lisa finding me the next day, all blue and stiff.

  The sky was getting darker. Soon it would be black. I heard the crunch-crunch, swoosh-swoosh of skis approaching. I tried to sit up and recover at least a little dignity. But the deep snow had me trapped.

  “Mike?”

  It was Maggie. She’d been behind me the whole time. Of course, she couldn’t leave me to fend for myself.

  “I’ve been keeping a respectful distance, Mike,” she said, smiling. “But now it’s getting dark. Need a hand?”

  What Maggie really meant is that I was officially the biggest loser in the history of skiing. She towed me all the way back to the cabin. Seriously. She tied a rope around her waist and made me hang on. Like a friggin’ US army tank, this tiny little lady chugged along on her skis for a good mile, with me sliding uselessly behind her.

  I had never been more humiliated. This was even worse than the time in grade three when I laughed so hard at Shane Armstrong’s joke about horny elephants that I peed myself. I had to wear the plaid emergency pants that everyone knew were for when people had an “accident.”

  The plaid pants had been bad, but being towed back to base camp in full view of all the Granolas was worse, much worse.

  It took forever for the cabin to come into view. It was pitch-black by then. Through the steamy windows I saw twenty Granola faces pressed to the glass.

  “Uh, Maggie...could we stop for a sec? I can do it myself now!” I let go of the rope and plopped down in the snow.

  It was too late. Everyone saw stupid loser Mike getting res
cued by the teacher.

  The Granolas all crowded around as soon as we opened the door, with concerned looks on their shiny faces. Except Kayla, who was laughing so hard she was crying.

  “Oh my god, we were so worried!” Jill— my partner who let the teacher pick up the slack—said.

  “We were about to send out a search party,” said Rick, putting his arm around Maggie and winking at me. Various Granolas were tugging off my toque, drying my hair, pulling off my jacket and gloves and shoving hot chocolate in my hands. They wanted to know what had happened. They seemed to want some big story, like I fought off a bear or something. But no, it was just me being me.

  “Guys, thanks for your help, but I think Mike just needs to get himself settled,” Maggie said, giving me her kind smile.

  I didn’t want any kind smiles. I pushed past everyone and stomped to the boys’ bedroom. But my legs hurt so much that I couldn’t move all that fast.

  As I lay in my bunk on my old sleeping bag, I heard everyone downstairs laughing and having a good time.

  Someone knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I didn’t answer.

  I rolled over and finally fell asleep.

  I woke up a few hours later. The cabin was dead quiet. I had to pee. I hate going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, especially when it’s minus-thirty outside. Maybe I could just use an old bottle or something.

  I looked out the kitchen window. The snow made the world outside so bright and sparkly. Next thing I knew, I was outside wearing someone’s old boots and ski jacket, freezing in my pajama pants.

  The moon was like a huge spotlight on the snowy trees. That was the only light. It was the stillest, clearest night I had ever seen. The stars were amazing. There were trillions of them up there. It was like I could see the entire Milky Way.

  Despite the cold, I stood there for a long time. It was just me and the stars.

  chapter nine

  I had no idea how I would face the world after my telemarking disaster. So I faked a headache. I’m really good at pretending to be sick. Rick gave me two aspirins and said they’d be back around noon.

  I wandered around in the cabin for a while. I picked up a book, Guinness Book of Records 1994—a little out of date. All those records would be broken by now. I put it down. There was no TV or video games or anything. I sat on the couch and drummed on the table for a bit. I think it would be awesome to be a drummer in a punk band. I can imagine myself all sweaty, banging away on a drum kit and then partying with all the hot groupies after. That would rule. But I have no rhythm.

  I stopped drumming and looked around.

  It was only nine in the morning, and I was bored, bored, bored. They’d be gone for a while yet. I paced around. I looked out the window. The sun glinted off the snow on the roof of the outhouses. I glanced at my backpack and skis, neatly stacked by the door. Maggie’s work, probably. I looked outside again.

  Ten minutes later I was outside with all my telemarking gear on. I’m not sure why.

  I took a few sliding steps out in the snow. I bailed. I took a few more steps and bailed again. My arms were killing me from falling so many times the day before. Why bother?

  I clumped back to the front steps of the cabin, popped my boots out of the bindings and looked around.

  What the heck. What else was I going to do? Except maybe go back inside and snoop around for Lisa’s diary.

  That was tempting, but no. She’d catch me and then I’d be even more of an idiot.

  Maybe I could just try skiing to that tree over there. I clicked my boots into the bindings again. I slipped and slid to the tree. I made it! Okay, now to the next tree. I kept going, tree to tree.

  After a while, I realized that I had skied quite a way and hadn’t wiped out. My legs were moving without me thinking about them. My arms worked the ski poles as though I was some sort of Granola.

  I turned around to see how far back the cabin was. As soon as I did that, I tipped over and got a faceful of powder.

  No sweat. It was easier to get up now. My skis made that swoosh-swoosh sound. I thought if I followed the tracks, maybe I could even catch up to everyone else.

  I could hear Maggie’s voice: Eventually you just catch your rhythm, and then you can sail.

  I think I was sailing. No, I was sure I was sailing.

  I went along like that for a while. I felt pretty good.

  And then I saw something.

  Why was a ski sticking out from that tree? I skied up closer to check it out. It was hard to tell what was going on under the snow and all those mangled branches.

  I shoved some of the branches aside. Big blobs of powdery snow slid off the tree and onto my head.

  It was a tree well. Rick and Maggie had warned us about them. How did they put it? The low-hanging branches of the tree create a sheltered area around the base of the tree where a well of loose snow can form. It was like a big air donut around the base of a tree. If a skier accidentally falls into one of those he’s pretty much dead meat.

  I knelt down and cleared some of the snow away from around the ski, which was wedged in a tree branch. That ski was attached to a leg. For some reason I grabbed the leg.

  “Ahhh! Oh my god!” Someone screamed. There was so much snow. I tried to clear more away. The branches scratched my face.

  Kayla was stuck upside-down in the tree well. She was covered in snow. No way could she reach up to undo her bindings. She was totally trapped. I wondered how she got in there.

  Okay, Mike. Think fast. Someone’s hurt.

  Now I know how I react in an emergency situation: with sheer panic. I had never felt my heart pounding so fast in my chest before. I stood up and whipped my head around, desperate to spot someone. I hollered for help. I shouted and yelled.

  But it was just me.

  “Help!” Kayla screamed.

  “Um, Kayla?” I started to lean into the well and slid a bit. Crap, I didn’t want both of us trapped. I scrambled up and out.

  Kayla craned her neck to look up at me. “Mike! Oh god...I’ve been here so long—I was calling for help...” She trailed off. Maybe she had hit her head. Maybe she was losing consciousness. This wasn’t good.

  I tried to remember everything Maggie and Rick told us about tree wells. I never thought I’d have to deal with something like this alone. Then I heard Rick’s voice in my head.

  Keep talking to the trapped skier. Ask if she can move or if she is injured.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you! Stay with me, Kayla!” What was I, some character in a lame Mount Everest movie? “Uh, did you hurt yourself?”

  “My arm! Help, my arm...,” she moaned.

  Shout for help and light a flare.

  I had already shouted and didn’t have a flare.

  Undo the victim’s bindings so that she can climb out of the tree well if possible.

  That should be easy. I clenched my teeth and pressed down on the toe clip to release the binding. My hands shook. Agh, it was jammed. This was worse than trying to open a pickle jar. I clamped Kayla’s leg under my armpit and tried to pry open the binding. I pulled her boot right off and smacked myself in the jaw while I was at it. I tried to stuff her boot back on, still attached to the ski. I had no idea what I was doing.

  There was an avalanche shovel in my backpack. Was I supposed to use that?

  Kayla had stopped struggling. Holy cow, Mike, just yank her out of there. I grabbed on to both legs. I huffed and puffed and hauled her out of the tree well, knocking myself over.

  Kayla looked pretty rough and was shivering a lot, but she was still conscious. I put my first aid blanket on her. We could thank Maggie for our backpacks full of all that gear. But what was I supposed to do now?

  “I’m freezing!” Kayla kept saying.

  I tucked and re-tucked the blanket around her. I felt useless.

  After five, ten or maybe twenty minutes, I heard swooshing sounds in the snow. My head snapped up. I don’t know how long we’d been out there, but i
t felt like my entire body had frostbite. Maggie and Lisa were skiing toward us. I’d never been so happy to see them.

  “Oh my god, it’s Mike and Kayla!” Lisa cried. “We’ve been looking for Kayla for over half an hour!”

  Kayla’s arm wasn’t broken, but she had a bad sprain. She was going to be okay. They still decided to call the medivac helicopter to come and take her to the hospital, just to be sure. It was all very dramatic.

  While she was taking care of Kayla, Maggie kept talking about how brave I was.

  “You really showed your true colors today. Amazing job, Mike. You saved our girl.” She gave me a lot of big hugs. I’ve never been much of a hugger.

  Back in the cabin, Rick made everyone hot chocolate with little marshmallows.

  “Oh my god, Mike. I didn’t see her go down. If you hadn’t been there, I...I...” Lisa couldn’t finish her sentence. She was crying. Big, beautiful tears slid down her cheeks. “I can’t believe I let that happen. I’m so stupid. Jen and I were too busy talking to realize that Kayla wasn’t with us anymore. Maggie already gave us a huge lecture about never letting your partner out of your sight. You saved Kayla’s life.”

  Me, saving someone’s life? All I did was find Kayla. I didn’t really do much of anything.

  Rick stood in front of the group.

  “What happened today was very serious. We need to remember to look out for our partners at all times.” I looked over at Lisa and Jen. They looked like little kids who had just gotten in big trouble.

  “Mike showed a remarkable degree of resourcefulness and quick-thinking today,” Rick continued. “He exemplifies what the Explore program is all about.”

  Me? I was the Explore poster child now?

  Rick raised his mug. “To Mike.”

  Everyone else raised their chipped cabin mugs.

  “To Mike,” the Granola voices chorused.

  Rick started singing, “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” and all the Granolas chimed in. I couldn’t believe it. What was this, some sort of hippie musical?