She Floats in Dreams

It was a loud thunderous sound lingering in the air. Startling the birds, Caw, Caw, Caw traveled through woods. The old birch tree branch bellowing over the water had finally met its final resting place. It held a knotted rope for swinging and jumping in, and it was hit by lightning in the spring. Bubbling, churning, and slowly sliding down, down; where the water meets the muddy bottom, the tree lay down its balding head absent of its green glory in the white cold months. It disappeared totally under the thick ice sheet, leaving a shallow spot where the tree branch entered. It should freeze over by morning, but only a thin sheet of gray. Unnoticed really that the branch was ever there or that the pond had a new intruder.

The frozen pond had been a favorite skating place for her. She couldn’t wait until the shimmering waves lay still, hard and gray. It was her secret place; she could be anything here, away from everyone and reality. She had a rough couple of years, parents divorced, living in poverty from a big beautiful house to a dumpy tiny mobile home her grandparents rented out. Her mom fell in love with the tenant, a loner, truck driver. But here at the frozen pond, she was Dorothy Hamill, Queen still, ruler of the ice. They couldn’t afford ice skating lessons, but she would watch them, the lucky ones that did, at the rink in the town over or on tv. She had a natural talent, started skating early, at age 3. She was lucky; her grandmother bought her skates and most of her clothes. She was poor but had some nice things and always a full belly and roof over her head. But she missed her old life, her house, her things.

Daylight peaked its glorious head slowly, with colors of reds, orange, and yellows shimmering in the crisp, clean air. It was a beautiful new winter day. Oh, she couldn’t wait to get out and dance on the ice. It was like she was in a different world out there. Gliding, twirling, spinning around and around. FLOW. Nothing else even existed when she was floating over the cool wonder. She played music to skate to in her head. Humming and singing aloud sometimes; brought her to a place she could only imagine heaven would be, pure bliss. It was so cold out, though; she needed to dress warm so that she could stay out there longer. She would dress in layers, so if it warmed up, she could peel them off. She wore a complete set of long underwear, snow pants, sweater, jacket, scarf, mittens, earmuffs, and hat. A belly of hot cocoa with some cinnamon toast, and she was ready to go.

The frozen pond wasn’t too far from her trailer. It was in her grandparent’s back yard, which was next door. They lived in the country, a once-prosperous area full of development and expansion anchored by a great lake. Once the Nuclear Plants were built, the majority of workers left. Only a few stayed to run and maintain the facility. The trek was short enough, but the snow was deep, so it was not easy. It didn’t matter to her, though; she would have climbed Mount Everest to ice skate. As she made her way to the slick, smooth glory, she remembered she had asked her stepfather to PLEASE drive his 4X4 truck out to the pond this morning. She had been working on a routine and wanted to skate to real music, not just in her head but on the speakers from his truck. “I hope he remembers to come,” she says softly on her way to the pond.

It was the perfect light to dust off the frozen stage and warm up when she got to her sanctuary. It had not snowed from the day before, so she didn’t have to clear the area. The only thing she saw was a few small branches scattered on the surface, but quickly enough to remove. That was in the corner, so she didn’t have to worry about it just yet. There was plenty of surfaces to warm up on, so she would stay away from that area until she was ready to perform. Out she went. She skated slowly at first, getting her bearings on the site, feeling the space, the energy of the environment. The wind blowing in her hair, she danced to the music echoing in her head. Circling, rounding, letting the ice take her in rhythm, she soared. She was ready to perform. But her stepfather did not show up. Disappointed, she triumphed on.

Not wanting to waste any time, she had a 2 X 4 piece of wood she would use to clear freshly fallen snow to remove the debris on the outskirts where the small branches lie. She tossed it across the surface, and swift, they were swept to the edge of the pond. The frozen glory is ready for her winter ballet. Slowly she started, spinning and jumping, and landing with perfection. Keeping it tight inside, then venturing toward the outer part of the pond. The routine started picking up momentum and complexity. Skating in complete essence of her and God, the performance is perfect, every move precisely performed. A 10 if you will, if judged, she was on fire.

She moved towards the place where the small branches had once lay, then CRACK! The thin ice broke through; it felt HOT! Oh no, it was so cold her body couldn’t tell the difference between hot and cold; she thought she was burning. Panic hit; she was under the ice, fully dressed and so heavy. Her mind was racing, frantic; what to do? She was too heavy; the struggle to find the out was hard. She wouldn’t give up; she was a fighter. But it was getting hard, really hard. She slowly started to find peace, grasp her collective focus. Notes of music filled her ears. Was she delirious, was she imagining these musical notes of—Her Routine Music? It was her stepfather; he showed up! Help! She screamed in her head. “I’m down here!”

Darkness surrounded her, but the faint sound of rumbling and crunching of ice rang in her ears. The last thing she remembers is a huge TUG—and she was out of the water. He found her, he hooked her with a piece of the debris she pushed away as an obtrusion, and she was saved.

The tree branch that almost killed her saved her in the end. The lesson from this experience was____________? Fill in the blank with lessons from your own life because thin ice is everywhere, and the branch you thought might hurt you could save your life.

By: Kimberly Paulus