[A/N: Thanks to CNJ for
giving me inspiration. Sorry if you think I'm copying you. If you do, I will
remove it immediately. Thanks anyway. Please review!]
Kristy Taylor wandered down the stairs into the kitchen of the
log cabin. It was late December, and she was with her family at Shadow Lake.
"Morning, Mom," her oldest son Greg greeted her brightly, taking
a drink from his mug of hot chocolate.
"Hi," Kristy replied, planting a kiss on top of the
fifteen-year-old's honey blond hair. She had no idea how he had gotten it,
since both she and her husband Bart were dark-haired.
Her eldest daughter, Olivia, nine, was resting her head on the
table. A plate heaped with buttered toast was in front of her. "Olivia," Kristy
said as she began making a cup of tea. "Get up and eat."
"Are we going skiing later, Mom?" seven-year-old Allen asked as
he bit into his sandwich. Kristy nodded, stirring her tea. "As long as you guys
finish up quickly."
"Yeah, hurry up, slowpokes!" Bart
added as he came in carrying a still-sleeping three-year-old, Laura. He kissed
his wife and children.
Finally, after some rushing, they were ready. Kristy checked her
children (whose names spelled out G.O.A.L. in age order) to make sure they were
bundled up in scarves, mittens, hats, boots and sweaters.
Trudging up to the ski lodge took a long time, because Allen kept
falling behind when his laces untied. When they reached there, Bart took the
three oldest children to rent their ski equipment while Kristy signed Laura up
for the children's play activities – snowball fights, snowman-making and
sledding.
After waving goodbye to Laura, Kristy went to the counter and got
her stuff. She paid the man and after inspecting her kids, instructed them to
be careful while they were skiing, then left.
Kristy whizzed down the ski slope, with Bart hot on her heels.
She glanced down from the mountain at dozens of treetops, wishing her
stepfather Watson could be there with her. Sadly, he had died from a second,
more serious heart attack when she was in college.
Kristy zoomed on, not paying any attention to the people or
things around her. Suddenly, she was jolted out of her trance by a shout. "Mrs
Taylor! Come quick!"
Kristy skidded to a halt at the end of the slope and dug her ski
poles into the snow. "What?" she asked in alarm.
A staff of the ski lodge, a sweet young lady called Hannah, was
waving frantically at her. Kristy dashed towards her, panic rising.
"Your son, Aaron, I think, disappeared down a closed ski slope.
The sign had been hidden in the snow after a small blizzard last night so he
didn't see it. It's been closed for renovation, ma'am, and extremely
dangerous," Hannah explained as they skied to the scene.
"Aaron? Allen!" Kristy exclaimed. "Oh my god! Allen!" She sped
towards the indicated ski slope and stopped. "Where is he? What'll happen to
him?"
Hannah mounted her skis. "Follow me, ma'am. We'll probably find
him at the end. Just hope for the best." Kristy did as she was told.
Less than a minute later, Kristy gasped as her worst nightmare
came true. Allen had crashed into some renovation stuff, and was lying
unconscious in the snow.
"Allen!" Kristy's heart twisted as she dropped to her knees,
examining her son. His right leg was twisted under him in a weird angle, and
his left trouser was ripped to shreds. A ski pole had grazed his left arm,
leaving a bleeding cut. His face was deathly pale, and his light brown hair was
covered in ice.
"Ohmigod." With some help from Hannah, Kristy lifted Allen gently
into a sitting position. "Allen, wake up. Allen!" Kristy's eyes filled with
tears of worry and anxiety. Was Allen okay? Was he dead?
"Don't worry, help is here." Two strong, burly men from the ski
lodge arrived with a stretcher. They put Allen on the stretcher and carried him
up on foot. Kristy and Hannah trailed after, Kristy sobbing.
Back at the ski lodge lobby, Bart, Greg and Olivia were waiting
with hot chocolate by the fireplace. Bart jumped up from the couch when he
caught sight of her and put a comforting around her shoulders, whispering, "Is
he all right? What are they going to do?"
Kristy could only shake her head and sniffle. She buried her face
in Bart's shirt and cried.
Ten minutes later, the ski lodge medical staff told them the
results. Allen was still alive, but just barely. His heartbeat was faint and
might fade any moment. He had lost a lot of blood through the cut in his left
arm and another wound in the side of his head, which Kristy hadn't seen. Also,
his right leg was broken and the ankle was sprained, and his right wrist was
fractured.
They advised Kristy and Bart to take Allen to the nearest
hospital, in the town two and a half miles away. Kristy and Bart discussed it
quickly and decided that Kristy would take Laura and go with Allen to the hospital.
Bart, Greg and Olivia would pack up their stuff and check out, then meet up
with them later.
The medical staff put Allen into a van. The driver got into the
front and Kristy and Laura got into the back. The drive there was slower than
usual because of the blizzard. Snow up to a height of two feet blanketed the
roads.
All Kristy could do was look at Allen's poor, pitiful body. They
had bandaged up his wounds to stop the bleeding, but he still looked awful.
Kristy hugged Laura close and cried. Poor Laura could only stare, confused, at
her mother.
At the emergency room, two nurses immediately took charge. Kristy
thanked the ski lodge driver and he left in the direction they had come in.
More waiting took place. Kristy got a can of iced coffee from a
vending machine and two buns for herself and Laura. It was noon.
The doctor emerged from the operating theatre. He beckoned to
Kristy and spoke to her gravely. "Your son is in bad condition. I set his
broken bones and stitched up the cuts, but he suffered a concussion and major
blood loss. His heartbeat is slowing and still won't go back to regular speed.
Please be prepared for the worst. In the meantime, I'll keep you posted. He's
still unconscious and can't have visitors yet." The doctor shook her hand
slowly and walked off.
Kristy shook her head, more tears pooling. Be prepared for the
worst. She might as well face it – Allen was dying. It was all her fault
for being such an irresponsible parent. She should have gone skiing on the same
slopes as them.
The day wore on. Bart arrived with the two other kids, and they
waited and prayed, eating hardly anything. By night, Allen was still not in
stable condition and Bart decided to book a room at a nearby hotel.
"I'm going to stay here overnight, in case Allen wakes up,"
Kristy told Bart as he put the kids in a taxi to the hotel.
"Don't be silly," Bart said sternly. "You need sleep. I'm sure
he'll still be fine tomorrow." He told the cab driver the name of the hotel.
"Come on, Kris, let's go. All our luggage is in the taxi."
Kristy stamped her foot stubbornly. "I'm not going! I'm staying
here with Allen. You may not be concerned about him, but I am."
The driver cleared his throat impatiently. Bart sighed angrily
and snapped, "Okay, fine, if that's the way you want to be! I'll see you
tomorrow."
He got into the front passenger seat and slammed the door. The
taxi rumbled off noisily.
Kristy slept in the corridor on a hard plastic chair, shivering
in her winter jacket. By morning, Allen's heartbeat was back to normal and Bart
returned, alone.
"Hi, Kris," he said warmly with a kiss on her forehead. "I'm
sorry I was crabby last night. I was just worried about Allen. Listen, I sent
the kids back in an early morning plane. My mother will pick them up at the
airport and let them stay in her house till we get back."
"You what!" Kristy faced Bart in shock. "Are you kidding?"
"No. They've already gone. Don't
worry, Greg is responsible enough to take care of Laura and Olivia. It's better
than them hanging around here all day doing nothing." Bart got a pack of cheese
crackers from a machine and ate them.
"Okay." Kristy sat down on the chair again and prayed.
At ten-thirty, the doctor gave them the good news. Allen was well
enough to have visitors. They went in hopefully. But he was still not awake.
"Wake up, Allen," Kristy whispered. She patted his arm, very
softly. "Come on, wake up. I know you can do it."
His eyelids fluttered, and Kristy felt a shred of hope. "Come on,
Allen. Wake up. You have to go back and see your brother and sisters again.
Don't you want your Christmas presents, Allen? Come on, honey, I know you can
do it!" she urged.
His eyes opened groggily. Kristy cheered under her breath, and
she grinned at Bart. He beamed back.
"Mom?" he croaked. He had
a terrible sore throat. "Can I have some water?"
"Of course." Kristy poured some into a glass and handed it to
him.
Two days later, Allen was discharged. As they rode in the taxi to
the airport, Kristy began worrying. Allen had slight brain damage due to his
concussion, and his speech was slurred. Also, he was physically very weak and
needed a lot of time to recover. But at least he survived.
Kristy stared out of the window into the night. Snowflakes were
falling softly, against the black velvet sky. It was Christmas Eve, and they
would be back home by dawn. They would open their presents as usual on
Christmas morning. It was really a miracle Allen could be with them.
