Tightrope

Prologue

Walking through the new, thick layer of snow, her legs hurt from the effort of lifting every boot-covered foot from below the snow every time she took a step. Her arms hurt from carrying two pairs of skates all the way from her home to the old, dry, snow-covered tree two miles down the road from her house.

Still, she kept going.

Adjusting both pairs of skates, laced together and balancing over her shoulders, she picked up the pace. She knew she had to get to the tree soon if she wanted to fix this. She had heard the screams and bangs against the apartment walls, and if that wasn't enough indication of what was happening, she heard the door slam and hurried footsteps down the hall. It was the fifth time in two weeks. It was getting worse. Nevertheless, her nine-year-old self knew that this was all she could do. It was everything she could offer in an attempt to fix this, so she kept going.

Her arms and legs and shoulders were burning once she reached the tree, but she didn't care. She dropped the skates by the tree trunk and started climbing. It wasn't long until she reached the particularly long branch, still heavily coated in snow, except for a spot. Except for the place where he was sitting.

"Hey," she said, clearing the snow off the branch and sitting down next to him.

He sniffed once and wiped his gloved hand over his eyes to dry his tears but didn't answer.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He dropped his head and his shoulders shook, answering her question.

She frowned as she put an arm around his shaking shoulders, trying to come up with a solution. She had been trying to come up with something for years now, but she was still working on it. He turned to face her and buried his face in her shoulder, leaning all of his weight on her as he sobbed, leaving the quiet tears behind.

She wrapped both arms around him, holding him tightly, her heart squishing in that now familiar way she had felt now five times in the past two weeks. The same feeling she had been getting ever since she was 6, old enough to understand that something was very wrong.

"I will fix this. I promise I will keep trying." She whispered, making this promise to herself, just as much as it was a promise to him.

Minutes went by until the cold from the snow started being too much, and her fingers started aching from exposure.

"Now come on, I brought the skates." She said, breaking the embrace and climbing down the tree. "Are you coming?" She yelled back up at him.

A moment later, he wiped his tears again and followed her down back to the ground. He took both pairs of skates and balanced them on his shoulders, just like she had done on her way there. He still wasn't speaking, and she had been through this enough times that she knew it would be a while before he spoke again.

She walked up to him and took back her skates, deciding to carry them herself, despite her still aching arms. She towered over him, as women tend to do over men before they hit their growth spurt later on, so it was easy when she rested an arm across his shoulders as she led him towards the frozen lake.

"Let's go make you the best hockey player the NHL has ever seen."